Chapter 12 : Chapter 12
Chapter 12. She Is the Hero! (Part 2)
Lorinna did not dwell on it for long. She was not particularly interested in the identity of the hero. Once the Pontiff began speaking with her, her gaze returned to Fia’s direction.
She was not the only one. The other spectators also turned their attention there.
Although the barrier still existed and the people outside could not see the precise situation inside, the magical phenomenon of the array was impossible to conceal. The massive tri-colored vortex gradually shrank, transforming into a small golden vortex. For a brief instant, an even more terrifying pressure descended. Before shock could fully appear on the faces of the crowd, the pressure melted away like ice and snow dissolving.
The magic circle had completed its task. Its light dimmed.
When the Pontiff and the other two figures reappeared clearly—along with the beings they had summoned—the entire hall erupted in an uproar.
Lorinna’s summoning position stood empty, and she herself looked utterly exhausted. Many people had already expected this outcome. A candidate was only a candidate after all—unfit for the stage.
In front of the Pontiff stood a woman dressed like a farmer. The eyes of an ambassador seated on the second floor flickered. He immediately recognized the style of clothing as belonging to his own kingdom. It was the kind of attire worn by peasants—people so common that if one threw a stone into a rural village, it would hit several of them.
This was the hero the Pontiff had summoned?
For some reason, the ambassador’s lips curved into a faint smile.
However, the most eye-catching sight was still the place where Fia stood.
Not only had she finished last, but the creature she had summoned was far too legendary.
Snow-white fur. A swaying tail that scattered faint particles of light. Sacred flames burned around its four hooves, and a single horn on its forehead crackled with lightning.
Fia opened her eyes and looked toward the creature standing beside her. It responded with an affectionate snort.
A unicorn—also called a heavenly horse. In the records of the Church, it was described as a messenger of the gods.
「Horse, Divine Beast LV1」
The simple description hovering above its head made one thing clear: the creature did not even possess its own name yet.
When Fia had seen it inside that space earlier, she had been shocked. A legendary creature like this had never even appeared in the game’s settings. The only reason she knew about it was because she had closely followed the developers’ announcements. In a later update plan, the unicorn had been mentioned briefly.
Tap. Tap.
The horse spread its wings and gently enclosed Fia beneath them, drawing close. It was a sign of friendliness, conveying goodwill in a very direct way.
Fia raised her hand and stroked its soft fur before finally looking around at her surroundings.
As expected, Lorinna had failed to summon anything. After all, Fia had taken away her fragment and had even dragged her around inside the space until the energy ran out.
Thinking about it now, she felt slightly guilty. Perhaps she should treat Lorinna to a meal later.
But what about the hero?
She had gone to such lengths—night raids, renovations, all kinds of preparations. Was it not all meant to change the template of that green-haired hero? Had she taken too much energy and accidentally caused the poor girl to evaporate?
Fia turned her gaze toward the Pontiff.
A flash of green entered her sight.
Following it upward, she saw a timid, shy face.
Whose little sister did someone bring here?
The unicorn let out a perfectly timed neigh and gently tapped Fia on the head, snapping her slightly hazy thoughts back into focus as her energy stabilized.
「Aurora, Hero LV1」
The information window revealed the girl’s identity. It took Fia considerable effort to suppress the grin forming at the corner of her mouth.
Not a single moment was spent mourning the departure of the green-haired hero.
Now entering the battlefield—the girl with green pants!
Sound gradually returned to her ears. Amid the noisy crowd, Fia showed the most sincere and gentle smile she had worn since arriving in this world.
***
“Ara, go buy an orange for Grandma.”
That was the last sentence Aurora heard from her grandmother before she was mysteriously transported away.
She was just an ordinary girl.
Her father had died in the chaos of war. Her mother had remarried. She and her grandmother relied only on each other, living in a small and unremarkable village in the southern kingdom of the Eastern Continent.
From the day she was born until she turned eighteen, the only stories she had ever heard about heroes were the bedtime tales her grandmother told.
In those stories, the hero was a great champion praised by the world.
He could defeat the ferocious monsters lurking in the mountains.
He could drive away tyrants who oppressed entire regions.
He could split apart the raging waves that threatened sailing ships.
He could accomplish things she did not even dare to imagine.
However, her grandmother preferred telling stories about the hero’s life instead—how he married his twelfth wife, and how his children once burned off his beard.
Aurora did not understand history, so she believed everything her grandmother said.
She had only learned how to read because the priest who guarded the village church had taught her. The church was the most beautiful building in the entire village. Although it was somewhat old, the children loved playing there.
They would steal candy placed before the statue of the god, pat the statue’s freshly polished head, and then run everywhere while the priest chased them. The cycle repeated again and again.
Aurora had always believed life would remain like that.
Until a burst of blue light swept her away.
After a dizzying moment of turbulence, she arrived in a palace that had never appeared in her dreams, not even once in her past life.
“Is this the afterlife?”
That was the first sentence she spoke when she saw the white-bearded old man.
In her grandmother’s stories, the afterlife was the most luxurious and happiest place in existence.
“No, this is the Church.” The kindly looking old man shook his head. “You are the hero chosen by the gods.”
The hero? Her?
Aurora did not understand.
She looked around the unfamiliar place, as cautiously as a child who had lost her way.
Floating specks of light drifted through the air like fireflies on a summer night. Golden and white walls surrounded her. Colorful windows rose high above, reminding her of the old church back in her village—except this one was far taller and far grander.
And there were so many people.
They stood above her, staring down, whispering and pointing.
Their clothing was far more magnificent than that of the noble tax collectors who occasionally visited her village. Everything glittered with gold.
Not far away stood a red-haired girl who looked about the same age as Aurora.
She was extremely beautiful. Her skin was whiter than the cheese Aurora’s family could only afford to eat once a year.
If she lived in the village, the boys would definitely be chasing after her.
However, the girl did not seem interested in Aurora. After glancing at her twice, she looked away.
What had caught her attention?
Aurora followed her gaze.
There it was—a golden vortex.
Aurora had never seen magic before, but she instinctively knew this was magic.
The white-bearded old man was still talking endlessly beside her, yet Aurora could not hear a single word. She felt as if her very breath had been stolen away.
The light pulsed once more.
A sacred figure stepped out from the vortex.
And beside her stood a tall, winged…
Mule?
A strange sense of familiarity welled up inside Aurora.
She wanted to ask the girl’s name, but the noise of the crowd drowned out her voice before it could leave her lips.
Aurora looked at her.
The girl looked back.
She was truly beautiful.
“So, you should stay in the Church for now and study some knowledge.”
The old man spoke again, summoning several armored figures who approached as if to escort Aurora somewhere.
Aurora still did not turn around.
She saw a smile.
It soothed all her panic and helplessness.
And hidden within it was a trace of cunning she could not understand.
“My name is Fia.”
Since when had she learned how to read lips?