By dusk, the Empire's Hero was still practicing his swordsmanship without pause.
From the moment he had been chosen as the Hero, he had taken on this responsibility. Only on the day he received the Holy Sword had someone told him that he, too, was a Hero.
Before that, he had merely pulled out a sword and then been selected by the royal family to join the Royal Knights. He considered himself fortunate; otherwise, he could never have become the Hero so naturally.
With every swing of his sword, he shed his own sweat.
"Whew!" Yax picked up a towel beside him and carefully wiped the sweat from his body.
Within the camp, the Saintess Felicia, the Berserker Basaka, Uncle Knight, the long-eared archer, and Luke, the mage who had joined later, were all occupied with their own tasks.
"The demon race's attacks suddenly stopped some time ago?" Felicia sat beside the campfire, watching the final trace of sunset disappear.
"I don't know, but isn't that a good thing?" Luke carefully wiped down his staff. He took a small jar of oil from his pack and polished the staff until it gleamed from top to bottom.
While joining the Hero's party, he had continued passing information to the Truth Society. To him, the best outcome was avoiding a direct battle against the demon race's army.
A small party like theirs would be completely insufficient if thrown into the frontal battlefield. All they could do was carry out assassination missions and deal with some of the demon race's commanders.
"Hey, Yax, how well have you mastered the Holy Sword? Have you discovered its secret? How did Heroes throughout the generations use the Holy Sword to kill the Demon King?" Uncle Knight asked the new Hero.
"I even sleep holding the Holy