“Th-the Hero’s radiance…” the oracle stammered. “It rests within her .”

(She draws her cracked sword. It glows weakly, then flickers.)

“Because joy doesn’t stop your kind from burning villages. This mark is a curse you gave us. So here’s my offer — step aside, or I’ll show you exactly how ‘unheroic’ I can be.”

“Your light is dying.”

Milia chewed slowly. Then she turned to the small boy beside her — the one she’d saved from a slime an hour ago. His hopeful eyes were already watering.

Damn it.

She swallowed the bun. “Yeah. That’s me. Yuusha Milia. Let’s go kill a demon king or whatever.” General: “You bear the holy mark. Why do you fight without joy, Hero?”