CHAPTER 49: 49. THE WEIGHT OF A HERO’S RETURN

Marina couldn’t stop crying. As she knelt next to the Guardian’s giant hand, where Greg lay still and pale as death, they fell without making a sound. His chest barely moved up and down, and each breath was so shallow that she had to lean in close to make sure he was still breathing.

"Please," she said, her voice shaking. "Don’t go, please."

"Don’t go...!!!"

She had seen death before. As an adventurer and someone who had seen her brother die, she knew what it looked like when someone was dead. Greg looked too much like that now with his skin cold and clammy and his lips blue.

"Marina." Ryn’s voice was soft as she knelt next to Marina with one hand on her shoulder. "Let me give it a shot."

"He used everything," Marina said, her throat tight. "Everything about him, starting with his mana and his life force..."

"How do you heal someone who gave away all of their life energy?"

"I don’t know if I can," Ryn said, sounding worried instead of her usual confident self. "But I have to give it a shot."

She put both of her hands on Greg’s chest and frowned as she focused, a soft green light started to come from her hands. This was the first healing spell that every mage learned, but the light flickered weakly and barely reached Greg’s body before going out.

"It’s not working," Ryn said, her voice getting more and more frustrated. "It’s like trying to fill a completely empty vessel."

"The healing magic can’t do anything about it...!"

"Someone! Anyone! Please help!" Marina yelled to the villagers who were celebrating, and her voice cut through the noise. "Does anyone here know how to perform healing magic?"

"Please, we need help as soon as you get the chance...!"

The party quieted down as people heard the desperation in her voice. An old woman stepped forward. Her movements were slow but purposeful, and she looked like someone who had been through many winters, and her eyes were still sharp even though she was old.

"I know how to heal," she said. "I don’t have much, but I’ll give what I do have."

"Me too," said a younger man as he stepped forward. "My mother taught me before she died. It’s simple, but..."

"And me," said another voice, then another, until a small group of people had gathered around Greg’s unconscious body.

They made a circle, and everyone put their hands on the person in front of them, making a chain that led to Ryn, who kept her hands on Greg. The old woman started to chant in an old language. Her voice was shaky but strong while the others joined in, and together their magic made a web of green light that completely covered Greg.

Marina held her breath as the light got brighter and warmer. Greg’s color started to get better until the deathly pale color faded to something closer to his normal skin tone, and his breathing got deeper and more regular.

"It’s working," Ryn said, her voice full of surprise. "Keep going, everyone!"

They chanted for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only minutes. The villagers fell over one by one from exhaustion as they poured their mana into the spell, but others stepped in to take their place, determined to save the man who had given everything to protect them.

The green light went out when the last villager had given all they could. Greg’s breathing was now steady and strong, and his skin color was almost back to normal. He still wasn’t awake, but he looked like he was sleeping instead of dying.

"Thank the gods... he’s stable now," Ryn said, leaning back in exhaustion. "He’s going to be fine."

Marina let out a sob of relief and put her forehead against Greg’s hand. "Thank you..."

"Thank you so much for the hard work to save Greg, everyone..." Marina showed a genuine smile.

"He saved us," the old woman said plainly. "We had to do it."

The Guardian moved, and everyone looked. It carefully moved Greg from its hand to a bed made of cushions and blankets that someone had put together. Marina thought of a parent putting a child to sleep when she saw how slowly and carefully the construct moved.

Then the Guardian stood up and took its place in the middle of the village square again. It didn’t go away or turn off, but it just stood there waiting for its creator to wake up.

...

It took about an hour. The villagers had started their quiet celebration again, picking up trash and helping the injured. Marina wouldn’t leave Greg’s side while she held his hand tightly, as if she were afraid he would slip away again.

Then his fingers moved. Not the involuntary movement from before, but a real squeeze of her hand.

"Greg?" Marina leaned forward, her heart racing. "Greg, can you hear me?"

His eyes slowly opened, but they were unfocused and confused. He blinked a few times to try to figure out what he was seeing.

"Agh... my body is fucking killing me..." As always, when there’s a swear out of his mouth, he’s alive and well.

"Did I die?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because if this is the afterlife, it’s too much like where I just was."

Marina laughed, and the sound was half a sob and half real laughter. "You complete idiot. No, you didn’t die. Even though you did your best."

"Is that the Guardian?" Greg asked as he tried to sit up. Marina gently pushed him back down.

"Right over there," she said, pointing. "You really did it, Greg. You made something more amazing than any creation you’ve made!"

Greg looked over and saw the Guardian Reborn standing guard. His eyes got bigger as he took in the change from the pile of junk he remembered to the beautiful protector it had become.

"Holy shit," he said. "Did I make that?"

Kael came with a waterskin and said, "Yeah, you really made that."

"Drink this, please. And do it slowly."

Greg took a few careful sips, and the water seemed to help him feel better. He looked at the damaged village, the survivors who were celebrating, and the Crimson Falcons who were all around him.

"Why are you all looking at me like someone who just died...?

"What the fuck happened?" he asked. "After I passed out, I mean. The Titans, the shadow figure..."

"Do you really not remember any of that?" Denna asked, not believing it. "Your Guardian took on three Berserk Titans that were about to blow up, and it was nothing."

Marina explained, "The shadow figure put us to the test."

"Or more precisely, tested you. It said you were worthy because you had shown something important by choosing to protect instead of destroy, just like you always did when you first came to Ferndale."

"Then it just went away," Ryn said. "But it warned us."

"It said that the real fight is coming and that the gods who brought those reincarnators here won’t like your choice."

Greg said, "Of course they won’t."

"I gave them a shield maker and daily life tools instead of a weapon maker. Gods are known for not being able to accept when people don’t do what they want."

Someone in the crowd yelled, "HE’S AWAKE!" And suddenly villagers were running over, cheering and crying.

"The legendary blacksmith is still alive!"

"He’s fine!"

"Thank the gods!"

In a matter of seconds, Greg was surrounded by thankful villagers who all wanted to shake his hand and say thank you. He looked like he was about to run away because he didn’t want any of this attention, it’s far more excessive than the ones he got in Ferndale.

"Please, I just did what anyone would do," he began to say.

"No," the old woman who had led the healing spell said firmly. "You did something that almost no one else would do."

"You gave everything, even your life, to save people you didn’t know very well. That’s not how things are, boy."

"That’s what makes a man brave right there, making him the true hero."

Greg weakly said, "I’m not a hero."

A little girl said, "You’re our hero," peeking out from behind her mother’s legs. "You made the big metal man to keep us safe."

That made Greg’s face soften, and he was able to smile a little. "Okay, I guess I can deal with that if a giant metal man makes me a hero."

"But still... that thing isn’t a weapon... I refuse to call it that."

People were starting to celebrate again when someone saw something moving where Elias had fallen. The Rank S adventurer was waking up and slowly getting up on his hands and knees. His silver hair was matted with dirt and blood, his expensive clothes were ripped and ruined, and his face was covered in bruises.

The joyful mood died right away, and a tense silence took its place. Elias was able to stand on legs that were shaking and look around at the damage his "heroic" actions had caused.

His golden eyes took in the fallen buildings and the scared faces of the villagers before finally landing on Greg, whom Marina was helping to sit up. "It’s all over, huh...?"

Elias said, "So," his voice rough and bitter. "The blacksmith who doesn’t believe in violence saves the day."

"How... unexpected."

Greg said, "You tried to help."

"That means something."