I Wish to Pursue the Goddess, but The World Begs to be Saved

What is the epitome of heroism?

What does it mean to be the one who upholds righteousness and justice?

And why is such being imposed to enveloped everyone in their act of righteousness, as should it was not for everyone, many would consider it selfish and eccentric?

Is righteousness could not be centered on someone, and instead was required to be the tool to protect everyone to be considered as 'righteous'?

He did not understand. He was a hero. He upholds justice. So why? Why can he direct this searing righteousness that kept his heart hot towards his comrades?

Why do they consider him despicable when he let the enemies kill thousands of civilians to save his precious comrade? 

And why would that very comrade turn her back on him, the one who gives his all for his sense of righteousness to save her?

As he sat on a huge stage before the millions of disdainful crowd, he contemplated. 

Is this the fate of a hero? To be trampled by the people behind him and be disdained for eternity for the righteousness he wanted to direct toward his comrades?

The sun is especially sharp today...

"Hero of Dawn, Urapus. You have been accused of mass murder, letting thousands of people be killed by the enemies, and were detained for defaming your comrade by accusing her of being a part of your disgusting, villainous act. For the greater good of our world, and to prevent you from falling to the wrong path, we have decided to execute you."

The menacing figure of the Head of the Association of Guardians, an old yet robust man with a mane-like white beard, turned his piercing gaze to him. However, Uropus could see a bit of sadness in the depths of those eyes.

He merely chuckled dryly. 

Do they think the standing of supernatural humans like heroes and those worthless civilians are the same? Beings who could overturn an island with just a flick of their fingers and upheaval the earth in a blink of an eye?

Yes, the old moral compass is no longer relevant in such a situation. It was supposed to change, for heroes are the guardians of humanity. They could no longer be regarded as the same species. 

But alas, Urapus knew he was too soft. He could be pushed by anyone with just a few hurtful words. Once he sees criticism from the internet, he will bend like an obedient dog, trying his best to do what the public wants.

It's pathetic. He is a Hero, the one who protects mankind with his life.

As the hand of the reaper neared his neck, Urapus's ideology took a major turn.

His charcoal hair covered his eyes, and then he lifted his head. The civilians flinched.

The brightest hero, Urapus, who seemed to be the embodiment of the warm dawn, with his assuring smile and his kind and warm eyes, has turned dim. 

His bright eyes have no essence. His eyes are empty, like a soulless body.

The dawn has passed by, replaced by the night. 

Urapus concluded his life,

I was a fool.

As the Head raises his hand as a gesture for the executioner to proceed, Urapus remembers a villainous woman he came across.

The woman burns a whole city, all for the sake of appeasing the revenge of her deceased mother. Many considered her end as disgraceful, etching her name on the annal of history as a sinner. 

But when she laid her life down, Urapus saw a happy smile on her face. Her flawless face, with her black lips from lipstick, forms a happy smile as the city burns down along with her defeated figure.

He thought of her as a fool. 

There's no point in seeking revenge for a dead person, not to mention the massive loss worth billions of currency, with millions of lives lost in the flame of her revenge.

Back then, he didn't even think of her end, considering it as an act of a madwoman. But now, Urapus felt envious. 

He wants to die happy too.

"If I survive..."

The Head of the Association of Guardians looked at him silently.

Urapus knew it was a meaningless act, it was a tantrum of a wronged man who had given up his life for mankind.

An attempt to make these fools feel regret for pushing a good man to his disgraceful death.

"I'll make sure these worthless ones won't live."

Urapus did not hate mankind. How could he? He's a part of it, after all.

What he hates is these cancerous parts, that destroyed the whole part of mankind. The inflated, worthless part that needs to be decisively cut off from mankind.

He will exterminate them.

...If he has a chance.

Urapus inwardly laughed. Even he, the Hero, has such a moment. A moment to throw a tantrum.

"Execute him!"

"Die you piece of sh*t!"

"You let my son get killed! You deserve something worse than death!!!"

The crowd grew restless, demanding his execution to be done swiftly.

Urapus smiled, he looked at them eerily as if he was looking at a bunch of maggots.

The stout old man hesitated. But in the end, under the pressure of the hollering crowd and the hidden forces under the commotion overseeing the execution, he gritted his teeth and shouted out raspily,

"Begin the execution!"

Amongst the crowd, as the guillotine fell, Urapus could see the faces of his comrades. Tyrone the Destroyer, is a brash yet amicable hero. The man looked at him complicatedly. The boisterous black man clenched his fists, having an impulse to destroy the crowd to save his leader.

The Hero of Dawn, Urapus, was recognized as the head figure among them, the World-class heroes. Tyrone couldn't accept this outcome. It's fine if Urapus died heroically on the battlefield, but he was executed for mere treason of killing thousands of civilians. 

Not to mention thousands, even millions of them couldn't be compared in terms of worth to Urapus.

Besides him, the Sage, Merlin, looked downcast. For a man of his caliber, figuring out the situation is an easy feat. How could he not see how the world elites felt anxious and threatened by the ever-growing influence and power of Urapus, the leader of World-class heroes?

The man has proven himself multiple times that he has no funny business, he just wants to protect mankind from the outer forces. Merlin felt this bubble of rage and resentment. 

"Even the aloof me felt this heart-wrenching rage. Oh Urapus, I wonder how potent your current resentment towards them..."

Merlin muttered. Yet, what could he do? Even a hero like him, who could overturn the forest with just a spell, can't go against the whole world.

In the end, he could only look at the last member of their group, the very woman Urapus saved, who sacrificed everything he had, yet she easily turned his back on him just for the sake of reputation.

However, Merlin could see much more than that. She did that for the sake of preserving their reputation. He was sure Urapus could see it too. Of course, it was a very swallow reason on the surface.

But without a reputation, a hero could easily be accused and even arrested by a group of unscrupulous people on the internet. And with the stance of those world elites, reputation is not just a mundane thing. It's for preserving what's left. To keep their own lives.

For they are heroes, the protector of mankind. Even when the world is corrupted by the fool's greed, they must protect it. 

No matter what, this is their birthplace.

The last member is the Goddess of Medic, Raphael.

True to her name, she's like an angel every time she descends on a battlefield. Her wide-range healing skills are indispensable in subduing the outer forces. 

"Raphael..."

Seeing the dimmed look in her blue eyes, Merlin sighed sadly. When that guillotine fell...

Everything will fall apart.

Yet, Merlin has no intention to stop it. He wanted to see what could those so-called world elites do when the outer forces invaded them. Without Urapus, without Tyrone, and definitely without him.

As for Raphael...

"Raphael."

The cold woman stiffened, and she turned to him. Merlin saw the bright, golden hair had turned black a bit. But he showed no concern and instead warned the angelic woman.

"When you fall... In any circumstance, please do not unleash anything drastic. No matter what, we are still a part of humanity. A continent would do, but certainly not the globe."

The woman does not respond. She just looked at Urapus, with her dimmed eyes staring at the crowd with unrelenting rage.

"Even Urapus has fallen. Merlin, do you think I, Raphael, cannot do it? To witness my world being tormented by these lowly, worthless beings? If so, then you severely overestimated me!"

Merlin remained indifferent, "He fell. But he has no intention to destroy mankind."

"Oh? And do tell, how do you know what he thinks?"

Raphael tried to conceal her venomous tone, but Merlin could easily detect it. 

"Because Urapus is a Hero. He is the Hero of Heroes."

Raphael fell silent. She noticed how Merlin still regarded him as a hero.

"Even if he will die without honor in the eyes of these things, at least we could serve as his assurance that he will remembered as the man who single-handedly brought hope and led the world to fight back against the outer force."

The woman froze. Her beautiful face looked at Merlin in surprise. 

"Merlin, you...?"

"Yes. If even Urapus couldn't do it, what makes you think I could? Besides, didn't I tell you to do it only on this continent?"

Raphael saw Merlin's hands under his robe. The intricate signs and the flow of his hands, along with the fluctuation of energy ready to be unleashed right below the crowd.

After numerous stressful nights, the genius of the millennium, Merlin, figured out the best way to solve this predicament. Creating a perfect scenario to counter everything while also appeasing his unrelenting rage towards these people.

As for Urapus... Merlin grimaced. It was an irreversible mistake. He admitted, he's too indecisive. And it cost him the Brightest Hero.

He does not wish to describe his feelings with superfluous words, for he knows that he is not worthy of them!

"Forgive me."

"Now, shall we unleash a massacre?"

Merlin's voice turned dark, and Tyrone, not far from them, glanced at them with a darkened gaze. Raphael saw how the falling blade of the guillotine seemed to slow down, creating this growing feeling of unprecedented grief and despair. 

She grew desperate as she anxiously looked at Merlin.

"Merlin, why can't we save him?"

"Do you want to witness the brightest Hero, the Hero of Dawn, turned into a monster who wouldn't hesitate to cut down everything he saw?"

"But—"

"We can't let his name be tarnished any longer. Let him rest, Raphael. Let the future generation know that the strongest Hero of our generation, who protects mankind with his life, died because he saved his comrades. Accused of mass murder, defamation and was granted the punishment of death."

Finally, the guillotine fell, and the head of Urapus, the brightest Hero, fell to the ground, severed from its body. The crowd cheered. The parents who lost their children wept. The wives who lost their husbands wept. The elders who have lost their descendants wept.

Born as nothing, grew as a hero, and died as a villain. 

Merlin felt a pang in his heart, one he hadn't felt since the day his wife left him. But there were no tears, only inextinguishable hatred that threatened to burst out anytime. 

He frankly declared,

"At ease, will of Urapus. History shall be written by the winner."

"Subjugate the rest of the group!"

The hidden forces sprung out of the shadows, targeting the comrades of Urapus. But before they could unleash their attack, Tyrone furiously lifted his sword, showing unprecedented strength. The sheer force of his swing could create enough pressure to cause the wind to violently throw them far.

As the men in black got thrashed by Tyrone, Raphael blankly looked at the headless Urapus, and finally, her wings showed themselves, coloring the crowd with surprise.

"It's Raphael...!"

"Thank you for upholding justice!"

"We owe you our lives!"

The crowd surrounded her with excitement and reverence. However, before they could do anything, the white, angelic wings swiftly transformed, turning into a pair of dark, ebony wings, with sharp feathers. The halo above her head has ceased into a pair of unholy horns and her golden hair turned black.

Her warm blue eyes were no more, overlapped by the ferocious, vengeful crimson pupils. Raphael flew to the sky, and she looked down with rage and disdain.

Her compassionate being has turned into a vengeful woman.

"Do not touch me with your dirty words, disgusting ants!"

Raphael unleashed a black beam toward the crowd, uncaring for whatever consequences it held. Her once warm spell has turned into destructive, overbearing power, with the sole purpose of eradication.

As the chaos ensued, the indifferent Merlin lifted his staff.

"We will be the ones writing history. The era of fools is over. It's time to start a Renaissance era again."

"[Cease]."

Once one delves into a field deep enough, one will come across the degree of extremity, where all complexity will be simplified.

Usually, the spell's power is in correspondence with the length of the chant.

But in this case...

With a word, the world was overturned.

On the stage, the defeated, stout old man pretends as if nothing happened. He merely wrapped Urapus's head in a regal, intricate red fabric along with his body. He lays them on the highest level of the stage carefully, as if he is handling something fragile.

The old man took a couple of steps, and then he kowtowed, with tears coming out of his eyes.

"I, Servech, has failed you. Let your old man pay the price!!!"

Thus, along with the upheaval, a sea of fire covered the land, with the horizon where one's eyes could not see. All were on fire, except for the highest level of the stage where Urapus's corpse had been laid down.

That day, a continent was engulfed in the flames of vengeance by the Hero of Dawn's comrades. It was the day people realized how utterly meaningless they were in the face of their guardians.

How foolish it was to chained their guardian with numerous limitations.

The beings they should revere were forced into a corner. 

Even an ant would fight with all its might in such a circumstance, not to mention heroes.

It's a remembrance, a day of disgrace in the history of humanity, where they forced a Hero to his death. It was a day condemned by every generation, present and future. And if such a fabled thing as Pure Land exists...

Even the past counted.

"Hero of Dawn, the Symbol of Peace, Humanity's Guardian, the God of Heroes."

"Name: Urapus. Birth day: 12th December, year 2 of Phoenix Calender, a year after the outer forces have descended and the day the earliest Awakener self-destructed along with the Sovereign of the Alliance of the Outer Forces. You were born just right after that."

"You are a mediocre born. Yet you rise. Your will is frightening. If not for that irregular inborn will, perhaps mankind would perish after year 15, when the Alliance of Outer Forces decided to wage a war. But it's already been 30 years since then, and yet mankind is still preserved. Flourish, even. All because of your sole presence."

"The strength to enveloped the enemies within the radiance of the manifestation of your will, and overwhelm them physically and mentally is a groundbreaking ability."

"Very impressive. Even demigods have no means to be on the same footing as you. Who knows that in a post-apocalypse planet, exists a dazzling existence like you?"

Urapus slowly opened his eyes. He felt numb. He could feel a thin layer of puddle, yet they did not bring any cold, only this sense of elevation. The sky is pure black, and the surrounding is decorated with glamorous stars and galaxies.

As for the voice of the lady, he did not mind it. It's just recollecting his life. Besides, what could threaten him when he's already dead? Let it iterate, for he wanted to rest peacefully. 

Being cornered by the people he wanted to protect... It hurts him deeply. He feared that in this lifetime, such a wound could not be healed.

"Savior of the World, I found your death unsatisfactory, wrath-inducing, even. So, would you please open your eyes and looked at me, the Goddess who oversees this supposedly damned world?"

Goddess?

Overseeing?

Urapus, intrigued and shocked, snapped his eyes open. His eyes caught the sight of a veiled face, outlined perfectly by the starry sky.

Her purple eyes contain galaxies, while her black hair reflects even the slightest bit of light. 

"Hello, my beloved Hero. Do you wish to live again?"