The Lowest-Ranked Hero Has Returned
Chapter 285

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Chapter 285: Demon God Dale (2)

A transparent tear trickled down the Empress's cheek.

But the first emotions that rose within me upon seeing her delicate figure weren’t sadness or compassion—only confusion and unease.

‘What the hell is this?’

Knowing Camellia’s usual temperament, it was impossible to imagine her breaking into tears like this.

As I floundered, not knowing how to process the surreal scene unfolding before me—

“Did you know… how terrified I was that you might actually die like that?”

The reason behind it quickly became clear from Camellia’s next words.

‘Come to think of it, Camellia didn’t know that I had the Blessing of Revival.’

The other party members were aware, even if the worst happened, I wouldn’t die.

Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t worried at all—but they surely had less to fear compared to Camellia, who had no idea.

“Urgh.”

I should’ve told her beforehand.

“…Why are you making that face? D-Don’t tell me you’re still suffering from aftereffects…!”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

I shook my head and caught her hand as she hurried to call for Iris.

“Now that I think about it, didn’t I promise to tell you everything about myself once this war was over?”

“There’s no need to do it right now. You’ve only just woken up from your sickbed—your body needs to recover first…”

“No need to worry about that.”

“Tch. What are you saying? Even if you have great power, your body isn’t invincible. You need to rest fir—”

“You’re right. It’s not invincible.”

“…What?”

Camellia stared at me wide-eyed, as if asking what nonsense I was spouting.

Seeing the usually dignified and composed woman with such an expression made an uncontrollable urge rise deep within me—to mess with her a little.

“Rather than explaining it in words, it’ll be easier to show you.”

“…Show me what.”

“Heeyah.”

Whoosh!

I wrapped embers around the edge of my hand and swung it down at my neck.

Thud.

My head rolled off and hit the floor beside the bed.

“—Ah.”

Camellia’s eyes widened in shock.

“Ah… Aaah.”

She trembled uncontrollably, unable even to scream at the sight that defied all logic.

Before the suppressed scream could escape her lips—

Shrrrk.

The fallen head crumbled into gray ash and reformed seamlessly atop my neck.

“…What is this…”

Camellia stared, mouth agape, at my fully restored head.

“See? I really do have an immortal body.”

“W-Wait.”

Camellia shook her head and shut her eyes tightly.

“I must be hallucinating. The fatigue must be catching up to me. I mean, even with the body of a demigod, staying awake for two whole weeks…”

“Would you like me to show you again?”

“NO! No need to show me again!”

Camellia quickly waved her hands with a panicked look.

Had the shock begun to wear off?

She steadied her breath and cautiously opened her mouth while looking down at the ashes left on the floor.

“…You really do have an immortal body?”

“To be exact, I possess a blessing that revives me after death. No matter how many times—thousands, millions—I die.”

“……”

“This is going to be a long story. Should I bring us something to drink?”

“No, that’s not necessary.”

Camellia dragged over a chair and sat beside the bed.

“Tell me. Everything about you.”

* **

By the time he finished the long story, night had already fallen outside.

“……”

A heavy silence blanketed the room.

Camellia had listened quietly the whole time.

Now, she looked at him, biting her lip.

“…You…”

Her voice trembled.

“…How… how much unimaginable pain have you endured?”

He had told the story of his past in a calm tone, as if it were already behind him.

But the content of that story… wasn’t something that could be brushed off as merely “in the past.”

He had wandered a ruined world alone for thousands of years, in a body that couldn’t even die.

Imagining the despair he must have felt over that incomprehensibly long time felt like a cold blade pressing against her chest.

Thinking of Dale walking that endless road in agony and isolation… brought a lump to her throat.

“It’s all in the past now.”

“How can you say that so simply…!”

“Then what should I do? Should I sit here sobbing, chained to memories of a previous life?”

“……”

Dale gave a bitter smile and continued.

“I was given a chance.”

A chance to gather spilled water.

A chance to change a life that had been twisted, crushed, and trampled.

A single opportunity.

“And I won’t throw it away just because it hurts.”

“……”

Camellia’s eyes trembled.

She opened her lips, as though wanting to say countless things, but soon closed them again and shook her head sadly.

“…I see.”

She quietly nodded and reached out, gently caressing Dale’s cheek.

She didn’t know how she could ever soothe the freezing scars hidden beneath this warmth.

At this moment, it was beyond even her imagination.

“Now I finally understand why your lovers worry about you and care for you so much.”

In an ordinary romantic relationship, a woman would have simply relied on a capable and strong man like Dale.

But—

‘Rather than relying on him… I first feel the urge to embrace him.’

Like taking off your coat and covering someone who’s shivering in the cold.

Instead of thinking she wanted to lean on Dale, she felt a much stronger desire to comfort and soothe the pain and despair that had ravaged his life.

—Today, I’ll yield the seat beside Dale to Her Majesty.

Suddenly—

She recalled the conversation she had with the Saintess before coming here.

—Dale would probably say he’s fine, that he’s okay now, but don’t take his words at face value.

With a bitter smile, the Saintess had continued.

—That person… no matter how much he’s hurting or struggling… he tries to shoulder everything alone.

Shouldering everything alone.

It was a way of life Camellia was all too familiar with.

No need to look far—she herself had carried many burdens alone in order to ascend to the position of Empress.

‘But still…’

No matter how much she had borne, how could it possibly compare to what Dale had endured?

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

If she had made sacrifices to protect the Empire, Dale had likely endured countless deaths for the sake of all humanity.

“I can guess what you're thinking, but there's no need to make that face.”

Dale shrugged as he looked at the stiffened Camellia.

“I'm okay.”

“……”

How could he say he was okay after going through all that?

Camellia bit her lip gently.

How could he be okay?

Hadn’t the Saintess already told her?

‘There’s no way he’s okay.’

He was just pretending to be.

Suppressing sorrow, stomping down pain, crushing despair.

He was walking endlessly, on rotting legs, simply for the sake of what he bore.

“…Your Majesty?”

“When we’re alone, there’s no need for such formal titles.”

“Uh… then, Lady Camellia?”

“Drop the ‘Lady’ too.”

“Alright, then I’ll call you Camel-jja-eung~.”

With an overly mischievous tone, just to be annoying.

“…Just call me Camellia.”

Camellia pinched his cheek with a sulky face.

Maybe the joke had worked—a bit of light returned to the heavy atmosphere.

“Hmph. I don’t know if you’re being thoughtful or just plain silly… but even now, you’re thinking of others.”

Camellia sighed and shook her head.

She could now understand why the Saintess had worn that "I can’t stand him!" expression when speaking of Dale.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. You must be hungry. I’ll bring something light for you to eat.”

Camellia strolled out of the hospital and returned with a bowl of warm soup.

“You haven’t eaten in two weeks, so I prepared something easy to digest.”

“Oh, thanks. Did you make it yourself?”

“I don’t know how to cook.”

“Ah.”

Well, of course.

What reason would an empress have to cook?

“…If you want, I could try learning someday.”

Camellia said, averting her gaze and speaking in a small voice.

The sight was so cute that he found himself smiling warmly.

Then, she scooped up some soup and brought it to his lips.

“Open your mouth.”

“……”

Soup fed directly by the Empress herself.

Who would’ve thought he’d experience such luxury in his life?

“Does it taste alright?”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

Maybe because it was his first bite of food in two weeks—even though the seasoning was mild, his starving taste buds danced in joy.

“Now that you’ve eaten… I suppose it’s about time—”

He was about to tell her she should head back, since it was getting late.

“Why are you acting like everything’s over?”

Camellia stood, gently pushed his chest, and laid him back on the bed.

Then, she climbed on top of him.

“…Huh?”

Your Majesty?

“Didn’t you promise me? That once the war was over, you’d tell me everything about yourself?”

“I did talk all day.”

“Hmph. But there’s one thing you haven’t told me yet, is there?”

With a languid smile, Camellia began to slowly undo the buttons of his hospital gown.

“Um… Your Majesty?”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Camellia?”

“I mean, I am still technically a patient…”

“It’s fine.”

With a deep smile, Camellia leaned down onto him.

“Leave everything to me… and just lie still.”

A sweet whisper tickled his ear.

Her soft skin touched his, and their lips met.

‘Ah… So it’s come to this.’

He had sensed this might happen ever since hearing Iris’s words.

Still, now that it was reality, guilt toward his other lovers filled his heart.

But only briefly.

“Haah…”

The soft, warm touch of her skin melted the guilt away.

‘At this rate… I hope nothing ends up getting bitten off.’

Like turning into d / a / l / e… or something worse.

‘Nah, no way.’

Suddenly, Lanez’s face flashed through his mind.

‘…No way.’

…Right?

[Translator - Night]

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