Of course, Estellade didn’t answer him.

“S-Sir Zich, did you just pull out the holy sword?”

“I saw it too.”

They muttered in excitement. For aspiring heroes like Hans and Snoc, the holy sword was the symbol of a true hero.

“Can anyone pull it out?”

“I doubt it. Sir Zich said it was a holy sword, and even he looked surprised that it came out so easily. I bet not anyone can pull it out.”

“Then, will Sir Zich become a hero?” Hans murmured, and Zich regained his senses. 

Thud!

He immediately stuck Estellade back into the ground. The sword shuddered once, and Zich took three steps away from it.

‘A hero? How could he say such chilling words…!’

Although he was trying to live a kind life, it didn’t mean that Zich was really a kind person—at least, that was what he thought. He couldn’t imagine himself swinging the holy sword while people called him a hero.

‘Ah, damn it! I’m scared I will hear it even in my dreams.’ Zich shook his head intensely and stepped down from the podium. 

“Huh? Are you not going to take the sword, sir?”

“I’m not interested. I didn’t come here to get that sword anyway. And to tell you the truth, do you think a holy sword would even fit me?”

Both Hans and Snoc made the wise decision to remain...