The Hero of the South's words were undoubtedly correct.
Even Agusheed himself couldn't refute them.
Because what his disciple spoke was indeed what his heart desired.
—Until he found a method to resurrect Flamme,
No amount of slaughter or death could make Agusheed embark on the path to subjugate the Demon King.
The reason was actually simple.
Because if he fought the Demon King, there was a possibility he could die.
And demons cannot go to Aureole after death.
Although the probability of death was infinitesimal, Agusheed would absolutely not take that risk.
He could not accept a future where he would never see Flamme again.
The Hero of the South's words left Agusheed speechless, but they weren't enough to change his mind.
"This is not a reason for you to seek death."
Agusheed's expression was grim as he spoke coldly to the fool before him.
His long life had allowed him to witness the entire process of the thousand-year war between humans and demons.
So he understood clearly—
In this racial war that had continued for a thousand years,
Except for the Demon King, no one was indispensable.
The war wouldn't stagnate because of the deaths of one or two, or seven or eight Grand Demons.
Much less would it end because of a so-called Hero of the South.
"This sort of thing doesn't require you to do it at all."
Agusheed snorted coldly and struck down the blooming flowers beside him, petals scattering like smoke and rain.
Regarding his silly disciple's idea of mutual destruction with Schlacht,
All Agusheed could do was scold him mercilessly.
"Even without you as the Hero of the South..."
He turned his back to his disciple, his black robe fluttering in the wind, but his voice suddenly lowered.
"Other Heroes of the East or Heroes of the West will appear in the future to do this—"
Facing his teacher's cold rebuke,
The Hero of the South's expression remained as gentle as ever.
Gently pressing down his cloak that was lifted by the wind, sunlight illuminated his face that was calm as water.
From beginning to end, he didn't even furrow his brow.
"Since someone will always do this, then why must you stop me?"
He asked Agusheed, who was surrounded by flowers, calmly.
"Because other people's deaths have nothing to do with me!"
His disciple's inquiry made Agusheed's tone rise unusually.
He spun around suddenly, his long hair flying with the breeze.
"I would rather see you live peacefully and obscurely through your life, finally dying quietly in some corner of the world—"
"Than let you perish without a trace on the northern plateau!"
Bang—
What responded to Agusheed was his disciple kneeling and refusing to rise.
The Hero of the South raised his cloak, knelt on one knee, and looked up at his teacher who was worried for him.
"Teacher, could you answer one question for me?"
His voice was clear and bright, as if he were still that ignorant student.
With Agusheed's tacit permission through a nod, the Hero of the South slowly voiced his question—
"Teacher..."
"Even if, as you say, Heroes of the East or Heroes of the West will do this in the future—how much longer must we wait?"
The no-longer-young hero didn't pause. Under Agusheed's gaze, he continued asking:
"Teacher, please tell me—"
"How much longer must humanity wait?"
"How much longer must those people trapped in the flames of war wait?"
"So you would sacrifice your life for the so-called 'future of humanity'?"
The Hero of the South's words didn't move the strongest Grand Demon who had lived for fifteen hundred years.
They only earned cold laughter from his teacher.
"The world is constantly filled with death and slaughter, never ceasing for thousands of years—"
"Saving the lives before you is one thing, but do you also delude yourself into saving everyone?"
Saving everyone was inherently absurd.
Agusheed knew this well.
Because if rankings were truly made, he was the first hero to challenge the Demon King to save lives.
"Answer me!"
Agusheed's voice echoed long in the flower field before the forest cabin.
"Why? Why must you go to such lengths?"
The original hero questioned his extremely stubborn, foolish disciple.
—
"Because I saw someone crying, because the Hero of the South heard it."
—
Humanity's strongest Hero of the South responded thus.
His eyes blazed as he looked directly at the tall figure before him.
"Not caring about your own life, but caring about others' lives instead—"
"Teacher, isn't this the way of life you taught me?"
What I taught you...
The way of life I taught you—
Agusheed held his head, somewhat speechless about this.
He remained silent for a long time, finally looking down at his disobedient silly disciple with weary eyes.
"Did I teach you these things so you could throw your life away?"
This time Agusheed's voice was very soft,
So soft that even the Hero of the South could hear the suppressed emotion within.
"Do you think your death can change anything?"
Agusheed questioned softly with indifference.
"Do you think the thousand-year war between humans and demons must have its finale trumpet blown by you?"
"Exactly so. It must be me and no other."
The Hero of the South's tone was steady, unperturbed.
"Teacher, you just said—"
"'I would rather see you live peacefully and obscurely through your life, finally dying quietly in some corner of the world, than let you perish without a trace on the northern plateau.'"
The Hero of the South looked up directly into his teacher's eyes filled with complexity.
He shook his head and revealed all his thoughts.
"But Teacher... I don't think that way."
"Unknown nobody, or renowned throughout the world—"
"Teacher, which of these two paths do you think I would choose?"
The answer was obvious.
Agusheed didn't even have the inclination to answer this question.
Renowned throughout the world...
Hehe...
Agusheed raised his eyelids and asked back indifferently:
"The renown of a dead man?"
The Hero of the South didn't answer.
Agusheed slowly approached, looking down from above at his disciple's still-determined face.
"Do I need to tell you about the brevity and fragility of human life?"
"How many years, how many generations can your so-called renown last?"
The thousand-year-old Grand Demon bent down and whispered softly.
"When an era turns to dust and is buried in the long course of history, who will remember your name?"
"All the humans who remember your name, and all the great deeds you accomplished, will eventually disappear in the long passage of time."
"Tell me, after a thousand years, who will remember you?"
Beyond Agusheed's expectations, his silly disciple before him barely thought at all.
"You."
He lowered his head and answered calmly without the slightest hesitation.
"Teacher, you will still remember me."
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Powerstones?
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