Hero Complex

"What...?"

That was all Daion could say. His gaze locked onto Jack, but the man remained impassive—stern as always.

Haruka glanced at Jack. Two years with them, and she still hadn't gotten used to those words. She bit her lip, eyes lowered.

Finn's mouth hung open, but he said nothing. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

Minjae, on the other hand, didn't react. His eyes stayed fixed on the night sky, the orange glow of the burning town reflecting in his pupils.

Jack turned back to Daion. The faint tremor in his hands, the nervous twitch in his leg, the way his fingers curled into a fist—he wasn't as unaffected as he wanted to seem.

"Do I need to repeat myself? We're leaving."

Daion ran through the forest, dodging roots and undergrowth. His breath came in short bursts—not from exhaustion, but from sheer frustration.

SteelWall loomed ahead, growing closer with each desperate stride.

"What the hell am I doing?"

Sixty meters.

"What am I even planning? Am I really trying to play the hero? Yeah, right."

His boot caught on something, sending him face-first into the mud. Groaning, he pushed himself up and turned back.

No one was following.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he was alone at night.

He had been lucky until now.

Now, he was about to die for being an idiot.

He gritted his teeth, Jack's voice echoing in his head.

"It's not ideal to travel at night…"

The memory came unbidden—Jack's hands shaking as he packed up camp, Minjae idly flipping his knife between his fingers.

"But if we move now, we can reach a town before midnight."

Daion had stepped forward, seething.

"Quit talking nonsense."

Jack hadn't flinched.

"If that village is still under attack even after the Hellseeker's death, then it's a horde. We don't stand a chance."

"You don't know that. It could be anything."

Jack scoffed.

"Oh really? And where did you get that idea? From the bedtime stories your mother told you? Oh, wait…" His voice dipped. "You don't remember, do you?"

Daion's fist crashed into Jack's face.

Jack barely moved, only blinking in irritation. His voice remained level.

"How can you just leave them to die? It makes no sense."

"It's survival."

"It's cowardice!"

Daion trembled with fury. His gemstone pulsed, his arm burned, but he ignored it. He just wanted to see how far Jack's cynicism would go.

"If we go, we die."

"Is that all you people do? Run? Is that why you lost the war?"

Jack exhaled through his nose.

"We're not soldiers. And this isn't our war—it's theirs." He gestured toward the rising smoke in the distance. "We're just a bunch of nobodies who happened to die in front of the wrong god."

Silence.

And Daion understood.

He wasn't the first to think it.

They were all just kids. Thrown into a war they never asked for.

But still… something burned inside him.

The screams of the man he left behind pounded in his skull.

Jack sighed.

"We only have one goal: survive as long as we can in this shitty world."

Daion clenched his fists.

"You're not surviving." His voice was low. "Surviving is fighting to see another day. You're just running until there's no tomorrow left."

Minjae clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"And what's the difference?"

Daion ignored him. His eyes searched Haruka and Finn.

"You're really not going to say anything? Just accept this and run away with your tails between your legs?"

Haruka lowered her head.

"It's not like we have many choices… If we're not together, we'll die."

Finn hesitated, then stepped closer to Jack.

"It's a village, Jack. Are we really just walking away?"

His voice was quiet, but firm.

Jack didn't answer.

Finn didn't press further.

This wasn't the first time.

Not even his first time.

And yet, he still accepted it.

Daion turned away from them.

"Do whatever you want. I'm going to try something."

His legs shook. His body felt sluggish.

Haruka reached out, grabbing his hand.

"You don't have to do this… You can come with us."

She turned to Jack.

"He can, right? It's better to have help… it's better to fight together…"

Minjae scoffed and turned away.

Jack studied her for a moment, then exhaled.

"Summoned ones have to look out for each other, right?"

Daion chuckled bitterly.

"Even if it means abandoning everyone else?"

Haruka squeezed his hand. She was trembling.

Gently, Daion pulled away.

"Sorry. I can still hear that man screaming. I don't know if I can live with it… but if I run now, I know I'll let the next monster kill me."

Jack's eyes darkened.

"So you'll die out of guilt? Out of some stupid remorse for a guy you didn't even know?"

Daion shrugged.

"What can I say? Being human sucks."

Daion had hoped—just for a second—that one of those idiots would change their mind and follow him. But no. He was still running alone.

Thirty meters.

The city gates were in sight now. He was about to leave the forest when an annoyingly familiar voice made him frown.

"Stop right there, 'hero.'"

Daion spun around.

He recognized the voice instantly. But what surprised him wasn't hearing it inside his head. It was seeing its owner, sitting casually on a rock.

There he was.

The god.

No towering figure. No swirling black holes orbiting his body. Just a regular-looking guy, sipping wine from a glass.

"You know, I had a meeting with my boss," the god scoffed, taking a sip. "But it seems my so-called champion has decided he wants to die. What happened? Did you suddenly remember your dad abandoned you or something?"

Daion didn't even bother answering.

"Gods have bosses?"

The god raised an eyebrow, ready to explain celestial hierarchy, but Daion cut him off.

"You know what? I don't have time for your bullshit."

"'I want to survive.'"

Daion froze.

"That's what you said when you got here." The god studied him, swirling his drink. "And now your grand survival plan is to run headfirst into a hurricane."

Daion hesitated. He hadn't really thought this through.

What the hell am I doing?

"Why do you care?"

"Because finding new heroes all the time is a pain in the ass."

"Oh, so now you care what happens to me? You threw me into this world without a damn explanation."

The god clicked his tongue. "Pff, I figured it was better that way. If I had told you what your abilities were or who I am, you would've gotten cocky and died in two days. At least this way, I know you're still alive on your own merit."

"Has that actually happened before?"

Without hesitation, the god nodded.

"And here I thought you were just lazy and didn't want to talk to mortals."

"You're dead. Technically, you're not a mortal anymore." The god grinned smugly. "So I can still say it."

He took another sip, then glanced toward the column of smoke rising in the distance. "Summoned ones with hero complexes don't last long against the Corrupt. Didn't think you'd be one of them."

Daion clenched his fists. "I'm not playing hero. I just can't stand by and let those people die."

The god smirked. "You let that man die back there for survival… and now you're willing to die for strangers. That's not bravery. That's hypocrisy. You're still just a human playing pretend."

Daion's jaw tightened.

The god leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into something almost… softer. "So tell me—what's different this time? Those people in the city… they're nobodies to you. You don't know them."

A pause.

"So why do you care?"

Silence.

For the first time, Daion hesitated.

Why?

He had no reason to risk his life.

The god was right.

Maybe Jack was right too.

Maybe running was the smart choice.

But…

He had already died once. He had nothing in this world.

The people here… their families… their lives… Could he really keep running, knowing others would die just so he could live another day?

No.

He couldn't live with that.

"I'm doing it anyway."

The god tilted his head, curious. "Then I was wrong. You don't have a hero complex… you have a savior complex."

"Call it whatever you want."

Daion turned away, but before he moved, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Thanks for the pep talk, I guess."

The god shrugged. "If you die, I'll be right."

Daion didn't stop.

"But if you live…" The god's voice took on a playful edge. "Well, maybe you really are a hero."

No response.

The god sighed and took another sip of wine.

"Alright, I'll give you a tip."

The air crackled with energy.

"Corrupt underestimate rookies. Win with the first strike. And don't fight like an honorable knight—survive at all costs."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The god smirked. "See you later… or never, hero."

His form began to fade into the air.

"Oh, and if you die, make sure to leave your sword in my dimension before you reincarnate."

A small chuckle escaped Daion's lips.

Maybe the last one he'd ever make.

"Deal."

Daion moved forward, step by step.

His hands were slick with sweat.His legs trembled.But he kept going.

He crossed the gates.

Screams hit him like a crashing wave—desperate voices tangled with the roar of collapsing buildings and the crackling of flames devouring everything.

The stench of blood and burnt flesh was so thick he had to cover his nose with his sleeve. Bodies littered the streets, torn apart, some unrecognizable.

Smoke filled the air, heavy and suffocating.

Daion climbed onto the ruins of a half-destroyed building for a better view.

The first thing he heard—clashing steel.

The next—a scream, cut short.

He turned just in time to see half of a soldier hit the ground.

And then he saw them.

Two monstrous beings. Humanoid in shape, but twisted into something straight out of a nightmare.

The first resembled a grotesque wolf. Its body was covered in patchy gray fur, but its head—its head—was a dog-like snout that split in two directions, revealing rows upon rows of needle-like teeth. Small, gleaming eyes covered the sides of its face, shifting and darting like a spider's. It wore light armor, but in its hand, it gripped a massive battle-axe, chipped and dripping with fresh blood.

The second was even worse. A towering brute with thick, violet-hued skin, like a pig's hide, but with goat-like legs and a grotesquely muscular torso. Two pairs of massive tusks jutted from its boar-like snout, while another set curled from its back, wrapping around its bloated belly.

A belly that opened into a second mouth.

It had four arms. Two huge ones, wielding a rusted greatsword.

The other two—smaller.

Holding a still-living soldier.

Daion watched as the beast lifted the man.

Watched as it brought him toward the gaping maw in its stomach.

And then—he heard the soldier's final scream before he was swallowed whole.

Daion's entire body tensed. A deep, primal terror clawed at his insides.

But he gritted his teeth.

Forced himself forward.

He stepped into the street and drew his sword.

With one leap, he landed right in front of them.

The remaining soldiers didn't cheer.

They didn't look relieved.

But they didn't stop him either.

The Corrupt turned their heads toward him.

And then—they smiled.

End of Chapter 9.