"I want to possess you."

—She never said it outright, but that’s the impression she gave me.

It wasn’t *me* she wanted—just my identity as the Hero.

There was no doubt she’d already recognized me, yet she pretended ignorance while striking up conversation…

What was her goal? Why did she crave the Hero?

"Heroes are useless."

In this bizarre world—even in Egramote Village, a remote newbie settlement on the human-inhabited Eastern Continent—every rookie adventurer knew this truth. A noblewoman like her, with violet hair and an air of authority, couldn’t possibly be unaware.

She’d recognized Euphysis, a forgotten Hero-exclusive healing weapon. So why would she willingly involve herself with a Hero like me?

…But why? Why approach me? Why greet me?

Only one answer fit.

—My identity as the "Hero" held value for her.

A chill ran down my spine. Though she wore a harmless smile, dread coiled in my chest—I felt my carefree days crumbling beneath her mysterious hands.

"May I leave…? I have things to do…"

"By all means."

The violet-haired woman agreed effortlessly.

I fled. Didn’t look back. Ran like my life depended on it.

…

After I vanished, she remained where I’d left her, watching my retreating figure. Beneath her veil, her smile widened.

"Herathel."

After a long pause, she spoke a name. The female knight standing by the carriage stepped forward.

"Your Highness Princess Qiana, your command?"

"Two hours. I want that boy in my residence. You know what to do."

"Yes, Your Highness…" Herathel replied dutifully, though confusion gnawed at her. After hesitating, she voiced it.

"Your Highness… I don’t understand. He’s merely a weak swordsman. Why would you—"

"A weak swordsman?" Princess Qiana’s lips curled. "Two mistakes, Herathel…" She turned, fixing her loyal knight with an enigmatic gaze. "First: ‘weak’ describes his present, not his future. Second: he isn’t a swordsman at all. He’s… unique. Now, let’s move. We mustn’t keep Mayor Laor waiting. That old fox might demand new concessions."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Herathel bowed deeply, then glanced toward where the boy had disappeared.

*Weak now? Not a swordsman?*

What did it mean?

As Qiana’s personal guard, Herathel knew her mistress never coveted ordinary things. Yet this…

It made no sense.

Shaking her head, Herathel returned to the carriage and barked:

"Forward!"

…

I ran. Ran until my lungs burned.

Earlier excitement over kissing ViniVini had vanished, replaced by cold dread.

Who was that woman? How did she know Euphysis? How did she see through my Hero disguise?

I’d always believed Heroes were irrelevant here—but her reaction suggested otherwise…

Could Heroes truly be the legendary "strongest class"? Not just a joke?

A flicker of pride sparked—then I shook my head hard. *Impossible.*

Between the intellect-draining Word Spirit skill, a useless slime Battle Buddy, and Euphysis—the gentle blade that refused to harm—Heroes were clearly support roles. More like backline clerics than frontline fighters.

—I’d concluded long ago: Heroes had no combat value.

"Ugh! Strength doesn’t matter now—I need to find ViniVini and get out of Goinbair!"

Annoyed at my own daydreaming, I focused. That woman was in this city. Powerful. And she wanted me. One hundred percent certain she’d send hunters.

Escape now—or never escape at all.

I had zero combat skills. ViniVini was just a Lv. 26 Hunter. Even the violet-haired woman’s two knight-guards looked like elites. One could crush us effortlessly.

Run. *Now.*

The thought sharpened my steps. Speed surged.

"Where’s the arena tournament held?"

"At Goinbair’s Adventurer Guild branch—"

"Thanks!"

I bowed hastily to the adventurer who answered, then sprinted onward. Soon, the guild loomed ahead.

As a major city’s hub, it dwarfed anything I’d seen—a bustling complex the size of a football field.

I flinched at its grandeur but pushed inside, weaving through crowds to the reception counter.

All guild clerks looked identical. I picked one at random.

"Is the arena tournament here?"

"Yes. Are you participating or spectating?"

"I’m looking for someone. ViniVini Vini. A ditzy female Hunter, around Lv. 26."

"One moment…" She tapped a ledger. "Found her. Registered contestant. Spectator entry is five silver coins. Competitor entry is one silver coin—with prize money and items for winners."

Her professional smile never wavered. My eye twitched.

Competing was impossible. But five silver just to *watch*? That was insane!

Five silver—not copper!

*5 silver = 500 copper = 500 slimes = 500 Pikaballs!*

"Any discount…? I’m broke…" I asked hopefully, knowing the answer.

"Sorry. No discounts." She shook her head.

"Fine. Here’s one gold coin… and please count my change *very* carefully: ninety-five silvers."

"Silver coins, sir."

"Haha…"

Her sharp eyes caught my trick. I laughed it off, cheeks burning.