Chapter 7: The Hero Who Broke His Family’s Record
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
Everything has a first time.
—by the last Hero, who set a record in choosing a partner and still holds that record to this day.
Faced with this undeniable truth, the Hero lay on the bed, lost in thought. When the ancestral teachings had been passed down, they came with a list of examples—thirteen instances of missed connections, twenty-seven lifelong unions, fifty-eight cases of never meeting one’s soulmate—and one simple line distilled from generations of blood and tears:
“Follow your instincts. A Hero’s heart never lies.”
All experience reinforced the truth of that statement. And the Hero had always believed it without question. But…
The Hero glanced at His Majesty the Demon King and felt his very soul leave his body. Because all of that experience… had only ever applied to girls!
His ancestors—whether they had ended up together with their soulmates or married suitable partners when they never met them—had never once dealt with a change in their soulmate’s gender. And now… he was different.
He was about to break family history. The Hero’s expression turned weary at the thought. He hadn’t even gotten to experience the sweetness of love yet; instead, he was stuck reeling in stunned disbelief, staring down a future that left him both shocked and utterly lost. This was nothing like what he had imagined.
The Demon King, noticing the Hero’s dramatic reaction, glared at him inexplicably, gave him a sharp tug, and clearly intended to settle the matter of being asked about his gender earlier. The Hero was so startled by the interruption that it snapped him out of his thoughts.
He looked at the Demon King once. Then, bang—he smacked his forehead against the wall. The Demon King froze.
…
When the village chief returned from mediating a quarrel among some village girls, he heard a strange thudding sound. Opening the door, he was greeted by a baffling scene—
The amnesiac survivor stood beside the bed, watching with a complicated expression while, on the bed, the Hero—who had previously promised to look after both himself and the other man—was rhythmically banging his head against the wall. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Alarmed, the village chief rushed over to pull the Hero away. Meanwhile, His Majesty the Demon King, standing off to the side, felt as though he had somehow been blamed for all this.
“It’s not my fault,” the Demon King said immediately, washing his hands of the matter.
“Yes. It’s not his fault,” the Hero replied from where he’d been pinned back onto the bed by the village chief, his voice full of the weariness of a man burdened by life itself. And after a brief pause, the Hero repeated himself, making it clear that he truly meant it. The village chief only grunted an “Oh,” as if that settled it.
Then, following that bizarre development, he checked in on both of them, offering words of care and concern, and even asked a few questions to make sure neither had any complaints about the other.
Hearing from both the Hero and the Demon King that there was “no issue,” the village chief nodded, said a few more words, and finally left to arrange dinner.
The room was once again left with only the two injured men. The Demon King, who had just lied through his teeth about having “no issue” with the Hero, turned to him. “Suddenly asking me if I’m a man or a woman—that’s your idea of having no issue with me?”
The one who had killed his pets, weakened him, and carried an aura that grated against him on a fundamental level… If the Demon King was being honest, he had a lot of issues with this so-called Hero. In fact, given their current situation, his philosophy was simple: if he found a chance to pick a fight, he would take it.
The Hero: …“Uh… Nice to meet you. Let’s at least exchange names. I’m Owen.”
Caught off guard by the crucial question, the Hero, who was nowhere near ready to accept everything happening, hurriedly changed the subject. After learning from the countless predecessors who had missed their soulmates, he settled for a compromise and extended a small hand of friendship toward His Majesty, the Demon King. Even though he had already mentioned this fact during his conversation with the village chief. “Nice to meet you. I lost my memory, so I don’t know my name.”
His Majesty, the Demon King, who hadn’t been able to settle his score, simply brushed away the offered hand of friendship. After verbally sparring with the Hero, he returned to his usual cold and ruthless demeanor, pointedly reinforcing his supposed amnesia.
***
After resting and having dinner, His Majesty, the Demon King, left the house determined to avoid seeing the Hero. Along the way, he borrowed some grooming tools from a passing young woman and, even with his “memory loss,” asked her to help him tidy up. Once he completely concealed the shorter length of his hair—thanks to the Hero’s earlier swing of a sword—he returned.
He still wore the clothes generously provided by the village chief, but when he came back, he noticed his own clothes hanging beside the chief’s house.
And in front of those clothes stood someone who, in his opinion, absolutely shouldn’t have been there. The Hero.
The Hero stood in front of the garments, staring directly at the Demon King’s shirt—while holding its sleeve. His Majesty’s expression darkened instantly. Seeing his enemy touching his belongings without permission, he strode over in several sharp steps. But before he could speak, he heard the Hero’s curious voice.
“Jos… hu…” The Hero squinted, painstakingly deciphering the faded letters on the sleeve. “…a?”
After piecing the letters together and taking a wild guess based on common names, the Hero’s heart skipped a beat. He turned, looking at the Demon King, who was walking toward him. “Your name might be Joshua? That’s a good name.”
Even though the Demon King’s face darkened further at the comment, the Hero smiled and went on, “When I was picking up my own clothes, I noticed this. I thought maybe something in your personal belongings could help you remember your past. So… I just checked. It was impulsive. Sorry for not waiting until you got back.”
His Majesty froze, his anger slamming to a halt. His voice came out strained, the words pushed through clenched teeth. “Oh… well… thanks?”
The Hero had explained everything before the Demon King could even lash out. All that pent-up fury suddenly had nowhere to go, leaving him awkwardly stuck. So, in the end, all he could offer was a half-hearted “thanks.”
The Hero nodded, set down the sleeve, and stepped back with his own clothes in hand. He tilted his head slightly, hiding whatever odd feeling came from being caught red-handed.
Even though he kept telling himself this was no different from helping anyone else, his instincts wouldn’t stop screaming, and his heart wouldn’t stop racing. Probably because he wasn’t ready—not ready to accept what fate might be shoving in his face. Forcing his heartbeat to calm, the Hero hugged his clothes and looked up.
The Demon King, meanwhile, had to choke down his emotions for several long seconds before he finally managed a stiff, reluctant smile. Fine. You’re just helping me find my past.
He smiled again, this time a little more genuine. “Thank you for trying to help me find my past. But I hope… this won’t happen again. I’m going to rest.”
With that, he tossed out the words, found an excuse, and left quickly. The Hero simply shrugged, nodded, and turned his attention back to the sleeve. The letters were so faded they were almost gone. “So it really is Joshua?”
“Or… I’ll just call you Joshua for now.”
As for His Majesty, the Demon King— What a humiliating display of anger! Especially after brewing it for so long, only to end up blurting out a pitiful threat at the end! Better not see the enemy at all. With that thought, the Demon King turned and strode away. But just moments later, as he returned to his room, his eyes landed on the Hero. The Demon King: …
He stood by the bed, checking the mattress in the light, when he saw the Hero walking in with the village chief. His jaw tightened. The village chief stopped a few steps away and explained the limitations of their living arrangements. Then, with a reassuring smile, he added, “You can both stay until you’ve healed from all your injuries… or until someone comes for you.”
“As long as you don’t mind the conditions here,” the chief finished. The Hero, nursing his wounds, spoke up first. “Thank you, Chief.”
After waiting a long while, the Demon King, who had lost his magic and temporarily became an ordinary man with a few minor injuries, looked around the room and added, “Thank you.”
The village chief glanced between the two and explained, “Our village rarely has outsiders, so no one’s really prepared guest rooms. This is the only room we could clean up for you both. So, you’ll probably have to share it. Would you prefer to sleep together like before, or put some things aside and set up a small bed next to it?”
He waited for their answer, curious whether they’d pick the first or second option. But the two stared at the question in shock.
The Demon King: I don’t want to share a room with my mortal enemy while I’m sober!
The Hero: Fate, why do you torment me!
Both changed expressions simultaneously—clearly visible on the Demon King’s face and more subtle on the Hero’s—each instantly revealing their true feelings about the situation. The village chief continued, “Honestly, putting guests in the storage room or the main hall isn’t a good idea.”
So, under that premise, the Demon King and the Hero exchanged a glance—one reluctantly agreeing, the other not wanting to trouble the host—and silently settled on their choice.
The Demon King: …Fine.
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