Dark. 　The forest night was completely different from the darkness of the city. The moonlight barely reached the ground, blocked by the canopy of leaves. 　Iwatani Naofumi held his shield at the ready and kicked off the earth. "[angry]Come on" 　He spoke partly to steel himself. 　Ten days had passed since Naofumi arrived in Ernust Forest—a thicket nearly 40 kilometers southeast of the royal capital. The bustle of Castle Town and the lavish feasts of the palace felt like stories from another world now. 　Three Usapils crept closer, inch by inch. 　Low-rank monsters shaped like rabbits, about the size of medium dogs. A single one posed no threat. The problem was that there were nine of them tonight. 　The shield in his left hand glowed faintly. 　This was the "Shield of the Holy Weapon"—one of the powers granted to the Four Holy Heroes. The Sword Hero wielded a sword, the Spear Hero a spear. And Naofumi had been given a shield. Defense-specialized. Attack power was nearly zero. （Laughable, right） 　One of the charging beasts, Naofumi deflected straight-on with his shield. With a dull thud, the monster slammed against a tree trunk. 　It wasn't defeated. Less than five seconds before it stood again. 　Immediately, another one charged from the side. This time Naofumi sidestepped left, angling the trajectory while striking with the shield's edge. The angle was poor—the monster just tumbled across the ground. Still, its momentum stopped. （One at a time. Don't panic） 　Naofumi's frame was lean, but ten nights of fighting like this had made his body remember. Leaves stuck in his short black hair, and the green cloak draped over his simple armor was now caked with mud. His deep green eyes searched the darkness for the next target. 　With no attack power, all he could do was keep deflecting. Drain their stamina, disable them one by one. It was inefficient, pathetic combat. But there was no other way. 　As he fought, memories flickered at the back of his mind. 　—The teacher had told him, freshly summoned. "I believe in you." 　Naofumi remembered the night Myne entered his room. She was crying. "Help me," she said. Naofumi believed her. He didn't doubt for a second. 　The next morning, the royal guards came. 　"The Shield Demon has wounded the princess"—that's what they said. 　The three other heroes had laughed. Naofumi still remembered that laughter vividly. Not mockery or contempt, but something colder. The indifferent laughter of children amused by someone else's misfortune. 　The palace said nothing. King Aultcray remained seated, never meeting his eyes. 　This was the result of trusting someone. 　He would never make that mistake again. 　When Naofumi deflected the last monster, his arms were trembling. His stamina was nearly gone. It took twenty minutes for all nine to stop moving. 　He dropped to one knee and steadied his breathing. 　After a moment, he stood. --- 　While starting a fire, Naofumi checked his food bag. 　Empty. 　All that remained was a single fragment of hardened bread. He'd eaten that yesterday morning. Now there was truly nothing left. （I have to move tomorrow） 　Along Siren Highway—the main road connecting the capital to the south—there were several villages. Over these ten days, Naofumi had survived by gathering medicinal herbs and monster materials around Ernust Forest, then selling them. 　The plan was simple. Tomorrow morning, go to a village along the highway and sell the herbs. Two or three silver coins would secure food. 　The problem was whether it would actually work. --- 　Morning came. 　It took two hours to leave the forest and reach a small village along the highway. The gatekeeper—just a middle-aged man standing in front of a wooden fence—changed his expression the moment he saw Naofumi. "[cold]The Shield Hero" 　Naofumi answered without emotion. "[serious]I've come to sell medicinal herbs. I'd like to trade" "[cold]I can't let you through without the village chief's permission" 　He waited five minutes. The village chief never came. Instead, another man emerged from deeper in the village. Around thirty, arms crossed. "[cold]The Shield Demon shouldn't come here. The villagers are frightened" 　Naofumi didn't respond. （The Shield Demon, huh） 　It was the influence of the Three Holy Church—a religion that recognized only the Sword, Spear, and Bow Heroes as "true heroes." The shield was a "coward's weapon," and the Shield Hero was a "false hero." This doctrine had been rooted in the kingdom of Melromarc for over 800 years. 　Naofumi turned on his heel. 　It was the same at the next village. Turned away at the gate. Doors slammed shut. A child threw a stone, which Naofumi deflected with his shield. 　As he walked, he saw a single tree growing beside the road. A bird's nest in its trunk. Three chicks poked their heads out, chirping. The parent bird hadn't returned yet. 　Naofumi stared at the nest for a while. 　He wasn't thinking anything in particular. He just looked. 　Then he kept walking. --- 　Past midday, he met a merchant along the highway. A portly man in his forties, loading cargo onto a cart. "[serious]Do you need medicinal herbs? I also have mushroom-type monster caps. They're materials for antidote potions" 　The merchant glanced at Naofumi's shield, then smiled thinly. "[sarcastic]...The Shield Hero, is it? Well, let me see what you have" 　When Naofumi opened his bag, the merchant picked up the items and snorted. "[sarcastic]The condition's decent enough. All of it together—one silver coin" "[serious]That's too cheap. Just the mushroom caps alone go for three" "[cold]That's the market rate. If you don't like it, don't sell" 　Naofumi met the merchant's eyes. 　Calculating eyes. The Shield Hero couldn't find another buyer. The merchant knew that, and priced accordingly. （He's taking advantage of me） 　His gut twisted. But he had no choice. He needed food for tonight. "[cold]One silver coin. Deal" 　The merchant nodded, satisfied. Naofumi showed no gratitude, no pleasantness. He took the coin and left. 　Gritting his teeth had become routine. --- 　That night, he returned to his camp. 　A simple tent set up beside a stream. The remains of a fire. And there, on the ground, lay an unfamiliar cloth bag. 　Naofumi stopped. （Who） 　He checked the perimeter. Five hundred meters beyond the camp, he'd set shield traps. No reaction meant someone had come and gone recently. Until just moments ago, someone had been here. 　The bag was placed right beside the fire. Deliberately placed. 　Naofumi picked up a nearby branch and poked the bag. 　Soft. Nothing hard inside. 　He poked again and rolled it. The bag's opening loosened, and he could see inside. Dried meat and a small bottle—healing salve. 　He sniffed. No smell of rot. No smell of poison. （It doesn't seem... like a trap） 　But what did that matter? "[angry]Sympathy?" 　He spoke toward the empty forest. 　The palace had abandoned him. The villagers threw stones. The merchant preyed on him. When people like that suddenly showed kindness, there was only one reason. Either they wanted something, or it was a trap. 　Naofumi kicked the bag with all his strength. 　It tumbled about five meters and hit a nearby tree trunk. 　That's when it happened. 　The tree trunk glowed faintly. 　Just for an instant. For only a moment, a pale greenish light seeped across the trunk's surface. Then it vanished. 　Naofumi froze. （...What was that） 　He narrowed his eyes. The light was gone. But he'd definitely seen it. That was the residue of magic. The trace of magical power left after an incantation spell activates. 　Centered where the bag had rolled, faintly lingering on the low part of the trunk. Wind-type. The mark of a barrier spell. 　Someone had cast magic on this bag. To protect it. "[surprised]...A mage" 　Another soliloquy. 　Less than 15% of the population in this country could use magic, and fewer than 3% were combat-capable. He didn't know who. He didn't know why. He didn't know the name or face of whoever had come to this camp, left food and medicine, and left. That was all. 　He didn't pursue them. 　He had no desire to follow their tracks or check for traps. Even if he caught them, what then? Thank them? Yell at them? Both were pathetic. 　Naofumi sat in front of the fire, resting his elbows on his knees. 　The flames flickered. The night in Ernust Forest was quiet, and in the distance, he heard the wingbeats of Exhaust Bats. Those bat-type monsters carried fatigue poison. They might come again tonight. 　After a moment, Naofumi stood. 　He walked to where the cloth bag had rolled and picked it up. 　He felt its weight in his hand. Dried meat and healing salve. Just that. （It's not like I accepted it） 　It was simply more practical than leaving it on the ground. The salve had uses. The dried meat was too good to waste. That was all. Not gratitude. Nothing like that. 　Telling himself this, Naofumi entered his tent with the bag. 　The firelight continued to flicker softly in the forest night.