The effect of the title change was imdiate.
Whenever the elves looked at Ian, they felt an overwhelming pressure weighing down on them. Even while receiving his help, they had found his presence oppressive, almost tyrannical in its force. His assistance itself felt overbearing, and the sight of him commanding a dragon so majestically filled them with instinctive fear, as though he were silently ordering them to follow him.
Their interpretation was not entirely wrong.
But the mont Ian declared that he would personally hunt down the one responsible for destroying their village, that suffocating fear vanished.
Naturally, the elves had no way of knowing that this shift coincided with the disappearance of the ‘Tyrant’ title.
To them, the fear they once felt simply transford into reverence.
Why should they fear the man who had saved them?
The weight of his existence had rely been too imnse.
And the effects of the ‘Hero’ title only deepened that impression.
[Title: Hero]
Your very presence inspires courage and hope.
The elves had already abandoned hope the mont the swamp of the demon realm swallowed them whole.
Their struggles afterward had been nothing more than instinctive resistance. In truth, their hearts had already surrendered to despair.
Their fate had seed certain.
A miserable death.
Not embraced by Mother Nature, but left to rot as feed inside the nest of so grotesque monster, their corpses dissolving into the filth of the swamp.
For elves, the most horrifying death was one that prevented them from returning to nature.
They were beings born as part of nature itself, proud children of the elentals.
When they died, they believed their bodies should nourish the land, becoming soil from which new life could bloom.
But a death consud by demons was different.
Demons created nothing.
They were beings of destruction and corruption, not life.
Even their corpses poisoned the earth, transforming fertile lands into places where no living thing could survive.
To the proud elves, becoming part of a demon was a fate more horrifying than death itself.
And yet—
The human Hero had saved them from that end.
“We misunderstood you... and even tried to curse and attack you. You have already saved our lives and restored the World Tree to us. The debt we owe you is already imasurable. We cannot ask even more of you.”
Hiikan barely managed to force out the words.
With Ian’s strength, they could undoubtedly track down the culprit. Even if so monstrous force from the demon tribe lurked behind the incident, Ian would never back down.
But the proud elves could not bring themselves to ask their benefactor to risk his life for them once again.
Ian frowned.
“What burden? I already told you—we share the sa enemy. Even if this had nothing to do with your village, I’d still have to deal with them eventually.”
“......!”
Hiikan’s knees nearly gave out beneath him.
‘A human hero...’
No.
Calling Ian rely a “human hero” almost felt insulting.
Everyone there understood the aning behind Ian’s words.
“All demons are my enemies.”
He truly lived according to that conviction.
Once upon a ti, their village had possessed elves like that too.
After the Middle Lands fell beneath the grasp of demons, had there not been warriors who rose up for their suffering brethren?
The village’s greatest warrior—a ranger—had once rallied companions and marched off to defeat the Demon King.
None of them ever returned.
The village that remained behind had lost nearly all of its capable fighters.
Only Moiken inherited the warrior’s fiery temper and peerless archery, while Genea inherited the talent for elental magic.
The younger elves who remained needed ti.
Ti to recover.
Ti to beco a village again.
So among the younger generation followed Moiken, insisting they should continue fighting the demons, but the voices of the moderates ultimately prevailed.
After all, everyone who followed the great warrior had died.
The village population had been cut in half in the blink of an eye, and their fighting force had suffered even greater losses.
How could those who had lost family, lovers, and friends continue advocating for war?
Hiikan belonged to the moderate faction.
From an early age, he had understood the village’s desperation.
Avoid danger.
Do not interfere in outside affairs.
Protect only the village.
What was wrong with protecting only what they could?
Hiikan’s world had always been small.
It began and ended with the elves of this village.
But Ian did not think that way.
He didn’t care whether they were elves or humans.
They were suffering, so he helped them.
It was that simple.
Hiikan stared blankly at him before finally speaking.
“Then we rangers will accompany you. This is our village’s problem. We should resolve it ourselves.”
“No need. If all of you leave, who’s going to protect the villagers? You need to focus on rebuilding the village. That’s why I ca here.”
Ian shrugged and glanced behind him at the companions standing guard around him.
Genea, who rarely interacted with others and almost never opened her heart to anyone, stood beside a tall knight with brilliant blond hair and striking blue eyes.
A rosary wrapped around one wrist, while his other hand rested naturally on the hilt of a sword whose sheath and grip were both pure white.
Only then did Hiikan realize who the knight was.
‘The Agent of God... Keith!’
He was famous as the escort knight of the ‘Hero’ Ian.
Beside him stood a mage with pale, water-colored hair.
That must be Sema, the ‘Master of Water.’
And the ranger standing nearby, his face hidden beneath a hood, was undoubtedly the archer whose extraordinary skill they had witnessed earlier in the village.
“These people are enough to expose the mastermind. In the anti, focus on building a proper village.”
“A proper village...?”
“You saw the villages I built, didn’t you? Make sothing like that. Hidden from sight, with only one entrance. Once soone gets inside, the important areas should still be difficult to reach. Fill it with traps. Build a real dungeon.”
“We... do not know how to create sothing like that.”
One of the elders interrupted in a trembling voice.
“I’ll teach you. Genea.”
“Yes, Lord Ian.”
“Say, ‘Dungeon Designation.’”
“...?”
Genea stood frozen for a mont before awkwardly repeating,
“Dungeon Designation.”
“......”
Nothing happened.
‘Ah. So it really doesn’t work.’
Ian abandoned the convenient shortcut he had secretly hoped for.
Dungeon creation was a privilege unique to the player.
Not that he’d truly intended to slack off completely.
Maybe only by fifty percent.
At the sa ti, part of him felt strangely relieved.
He was the player.
They were NPCs.
He already knew that.
Still, hearing the world itself confirm it made the distinction feel uncomfortably real.
Ian let out a long sigh as he brushed his bangs back.
Fine. Better this way.
...Though he wasn’t entirely sure what exactly was “better” about it.
He quickly pushed aside the pointless thoughts.
‘Whatever. The elves can just make a forest dungeon using elental magic.’
A forest dungeon relied on enchanted trees twisting pathways into endless mazes while sealing off unwanted routes.
Originally, the starting mbers in Genea’s route were a group of useless elves weighed down by endless debuffs.
But things were different now.
Ian gathered the elves capable of using elental magic and began issuing orders.
“Yeah, this should at least keep the demons from noticing.”
“As long as we don’t pull too much aggro. Probably.”
Then Ian jabbed Keith in the ribs with his elbow.
“...?”
Ian gestured toward the wounded elves.
Keith glanced in their direction before calmly eting Ian’s eyes.
“Lord Ian. I do not possess the ability to read minds.”
“Oh, shut up. Don’t pretend otherwise. Back then, weren’t you checking my pulse and doing all kinds of weird things to figure out whether I was lying or telling the truth?”
Was this not the kind of situation where you healed the people after beating them up?
“That was not strange behavior. At the ti, I was rely observing your body’s physical reactions. I do not possess any supernatural ability to read thoughts.”
“So you strangled for that?!”
“Human beings reveal their truest reactions only under extre stress... although, yes. I admit I went too far. I sincerely apologize. It was excessive treatnt for soone as physically frail as you.”
Keith spoke [N O V E L I G H T] smoothly before lowering his head in apology.
Sohow, the apology only made Ian more incredulous.
“Who the hell are you calling frail?! Weren’t you with during all those hunts?”
“Indeed. Watching soone with such a weak constitution constantly overexert himself places trendous strain upon my heart. No... that phrasing is incorrect. The fault lies entirely with .”
“...Who are you? You’re not actually Keith, are you? Did so demon disguise itself as you?”
Keith silently laughed.
For soone who normally answered everything with dead-serious sincerity, the expression looked almost hysterical.
Ian’s heart nearly stopped before suddenly pounding violently against his chest.
“...Was that supposed to be a joke?”
“Did you not find it amusing?”
‘Is there a separate skill for cody?’
And was his level zero because the joke was that awful?
People always said acting out of character could kill a person.
Now Ian understood why.
“Don’t joke again... or if you really want to, go enroll in a cody school sowhere.”
“A school? You an an academy? There does appear to be an academy for such things. Once Lord Ian restores the continent, I shall consider attending it.”
Only then did Ian realize his mistake.
‘Right... there are no schools here.’
Of course.
This was the world inside the ga.
Soday, Ian intended to leave this place.
Definitely.
Surely.
...Maybe after seeing the ending first.
‘Sothing feels strange.’
He pressed a hand against his chest.
Normally, thinking that way helped calm him down.
But this ti, it didn’t.
Sothing felt wrong.
Why was he so bothered by Keith’s terrible joke?
Keith was a character fundantally incapable of being funny.
The ga itself was extrely well-made. A terrible ga, yes, but character consistency was one thing it handled flawlessly.
Keith was still a religious fanatic.
Ian was still exploiting him by pretending to be an agent of God.
Nothing had changed.
And yet—
For so reason, Ian felt strangely suffocated.
His fingers unconsciously tapped against his ribs.
He still couldn’t understand why.
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