---

The Villainous Noble Who Kept Rewinding After Death: The Story Somehow Changed When I Committed Suicide

Chapter 262: You’ve Become Strong

After wrapping up the explanation about the labyrinth world and the selection of the hero, I finally gathered Iris and the others to head through the forest towards the temple in the center.

“But really, heroes do exist, huh?”

“I thought they were just fairy tale characters.”

“But according to Eir’s earlier story, it’s something that happens every few decades to a few hundred years, right? So, it wouldn’t be odd if a hero were born during that time.”

“That’s true. However, like Iris said, I also thought it was just a fairy tale, so if that’s the case, the story starts to fall apart.”

Just as Iris and the others mentioned, heroes are currently regarded as fictional beings that only appear in fairy tales, and there’s no record or talk of their actual existence.

Thus, if this selection of heroes takes place every few decades to a few hundred years, there should be some rumors or records of heroes during that time; otherwise, it becomes nonsensical.

“The four of you have valid questions, but it’s not all that mysterious.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I explained earlier, the selection of heroes can conclude without a hero ever being chosen. In other words, if there’s no worthy candidate, the trials end with no hero being born. And if this happens once every few hundred years, the people from back then would have long since died, so any rumors would easily fade away.”

“I see. In the past, hero selections happened too, but during those times, if a worthy candidate didn’t appear, no hero was born. Hence, heroes only remained as fairy tales.”

“Exactly.”

“So, that means there’s never actually been someone chosen as a hero in the past?”

“Yep. I’ve searched through all the historical records available, right back to the founding of the empire 2000 years ago, and while there are records of trials being held, there hasn’t been any documentation of an actual hero existing.”

Naturally, during the repeated lives I’ve had, I’ve researched the existence of heroes.

I thought knowing about them might lead to my death or even a clue to end this repetitive life.

But what I found out was that a hero has never been born, and that the trials for selecting heroes were conducted very rarely.

“Is that so? Then, there might be other conditions for being chosen as a hero.”

“Indeed. Like Shuvina said, if no hero has been born over such a long period, there might be some very special conditions at play.”

As Shuvina and Iris theorized, I too believe that aside from the trials, there must be special conditions for a hero to be born.

And the most likely possibilities involve the unique magic power that Shudo possesses, and the resurrection of the Demon King.

It’s abnormal for a person’s magic color or wavelength to change, but if someone with potential as a hero can transform their magic to fit the sacred sword, it seems plausible.

Additionally, in the past, Shudo became a hero in a world where the Demon King, who was also thought to be a fictional character, was resurrected, suggesting that the resurrection of the Demon King could be the key to the birth of heroes.

“Now then. It’s nice to think about all this, but it’s time to get moving. After all, the monsters have graciously decided to join us.”

As I said this, a giant white raven appeared above us, flapping its massive wings, its ruby-red eyes gazing down at us.

“What is that…?”

“That’s a White Raven. It’s similar to the Black Raven but is a C Rank monster.”

“Just a color difference, but it feels almost divine.”

“Rick, your intuition isn’t completely off. In other countries, ravens are said to be messengers of the gods, so maybe that’s why it feels that way due to the color.”

“But why is it white?”

“That’s something only the dungeon we’re in knows. But perhaps it’s an image aligned with the sacred sword?”

“The way you say it makes it sound like the dungeon has a mind of its own.”

“I’d say it does.”

“Huh?”

Upon hearing me say the dungeon has a will, Shuvina, who had been readying her bow aimed at the White Raven, turned to me with a surprised expression.

And perhaps feeling affronted at being ignored, the White Raven let out a huge screech before diving down aggressively, trying to slash us with its sharp talons.

“Hey, don’t look away!”

“Ah, right, I’m sorry!”

Shuvina quickly returned her gaze and released the arrow she had aimed, striking the creature right in the eye, making the White Raven screech in pain.

Then, taking advantage of the opening, Iris pierced its wing with magic, rendering it incapable of flight, while Rick and I simultaneously severed its legs. Finally, Mail smashed the downed White Raven’s head with her mace.

“Rick, you’ve really improved. I’m a bit surprised you could sync your movements with mine like that.”

“Haha! It feels great to be praised by Eir. I’m glad I aimed to keep up with you guys.”

Though he wasn’t going full power, Rick had clearly leveled up his skills quite a bit, and Mail was also adept at striking precisely where it mattered—seems like she knows how to finish off enemies well.

“Oh, right, Eir! Once this dungeon practice is done, wanna go grab a drink? Remember when we parted ways in Adonia? We promised to drink when we met again. Fall is looking forward to it too!”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Once this is resolved, let’s go for drinks. The imperial city has plenty of fine dining options, and they surely have some rare alcohol too.”

“That sounds great! I’m looking forward to it!”

I’m not one to drink much, but I don’t dislike it either—I’d say I actually enjoy it.

Still, I don’t drink often because I find it not very enjoyable to drink alone, and no matter how much I drink, I can’t get drunk.

Apparently, I take after my mother; while my father gets tipsy at the drop of a hat, my mother is a total drinking champion, and I’ve never been drunk like her.

In reality, unbeknownst to her, my mother is referred to as a ‘drunkard’ among drinkers, as she appears like an Ogre who can drink endlessly without getting tipsy.

“Men really seem to enjoy talking about alcohol, don’t they? My father and uncle had strange quirks about drinking too.”

“That’s right. My father loves his drink and often enjoys it with friends who visit our mansion. I didn’t expect you, Lewis, to be fond of alcohol; that’s a new discovery for me!”

“I apologize for my Rick and the others inviting you. But I genuinely look forward to it, so I’d appreciate your understanding.”

Shuvina said this with an exasperated tone, but I know the truth.

I remember when she got so tipsy just from the smell of alcohol that she stumbled around as if she had actually been drinking.

Does she even remember how she ended up that day when Olga invited her to a party?

“Speaking of which, Lewis, I’m curious about what you said earlier—do you really believe the dungeon has a will?”

“Ah, that conversation. I’d say it’s a hypothetical, but I really believe it does.”

“Why’s that?”

“There are several reasons, but the main one is this dungeon itself. It’s unclear what criteria are used to conduct the hero trials and select a hero, but I feel like there’s a kind of will from the dungeon involved. Especially considering one of the criteria includes an ambiguous qualification of being worthy of being a hero, I think it’s safe to say there’s some will behind the dungeon.”

“Now that you mention it, that does make sense.”

In the selection of heroes, one of the judged criteria is whether one qualifies as a hero, an abstract concept.

This judgment touches on everything from concrete actions to more abstract mental states, making it reasonable to conclude that the dungeon possesses a semblance of will in executing such abstract judgments.

“Thinking of it like that, what exactly is a dungeon?”

“Who knows? That’s something I’m curious about as well, but while there are hypotheses, there’s no solid answer, so I can’t say for sure.”

It seems that since ancient times, there have been people who attempted to document and theorize about dungeons, but in the end, all hypotheses remained just that—hypotheses—with no clear, definitive answer ever found.

“Well, that’s not important right now. We should get moving deeper in. I’ve heard that as you approach the center of this space, stronger monsters appear, so I’d prefer to fight before Fiera comes this way.”

“Knowing Fiera, she just might do that. Alright, let’s hurry.”

“Hehe. You’re so lively, Lord Lewis; it looks cute like a child.”

“I’ll do my best not to drag you down.”

“I’ll support you with all my might!”

While everyone spoke words filled with determination, Iris seemed to be saying something different, but I ignored her because it felt like it might lead to trouble.

After that, we efficiently took down the pure white monsters that emerged, thoroughly enjoying ourselves, and finally made it to the temple located in the center.

 

---