In the midst of a blinding light, Yamada Jiro had fallen on his rear onto the floor. Looking up, he saw a lavish ceiling. Pillars of white gold. An old man wearing a crown. And a great many people kneeling before him. "Hero... please, save us." —At that moment. Jiro understood. That his life would begin here.

—Several weeks had passed since then. The hero's party had left the royal capital and was heading toward the northern forest. The trees covered the sky, and it was dim even though it was daytime. A damp wind rustled the leaves, and the cries of beasts echoed somewhere in the distance. Walking at the front was Leona, the silver-haired female knight. Behind her, the petite mage Mirea. And at the very rear, Jiro walked languidly.

No one replied. But Jiro continued without seeming to care.