Chapter 1 – Praying Angel
The man had vowed never to read fantasy novels again.
In particular, he vowed not to read classical fantasy novels featuring heroes and demons.
Come to think of it, isn’t it funny? Why is the Demon King so suddenly trying to destroy mankind, and why is he so incredibly strong? But the more absurd being is the hero. There is someone who can defeat the demons by God’s choice.
Yes, a hero exists…
It was the most ridiculous thing to say.
He couldn’t believe a hero existed.
There was absolutely no such thing.
As expected, novels were only novels.
Even if the Demon King appeared in this world, there was no reason why there should be a hero to knock down such a crazy monster.
Bravery was only a concept from a novel.
The man touched the reinforcing bar that had passed through his abdomen. He didn’t know the exact name, but it was a rod that he saw a lot in construction.
It was definitely a rod used to lay the foundation of a building.
The person’s life was very tough that he was still alive even though the rod was stuck in his stomach.
“After all, there’s no such thing as a hero.”
At that moment.
An angelic voice came from behind.
“That’s not true.”
A man saw in vain right before he died.
Scientifically, it was widely believed that the part of the brain that caused errors created illusions due to poor oxygen supply to the brain.
In that sense, the man was not surprised to see the illusion.
He just thought it was time to go.
“Well, let’s just say so.”
He couldn’t believe he was talking about heroes to the light that came down from the sky.
It would be a very interesting phenomenon if it weren’t for the fantasy he saw while dying.
“If only the children who would become heroes were not sacrificed by humanity’s greed, if they were not subjected to their slander, if only their grief could be recognized… There would be heroes for mankind.”
It was a fact that the man also affirmed to some extent.
But what do you want me to do? It’s meaningless.
“If there was an angel, if there was a guardian angel who would lead the young heroes on the right path and protect them from the ordeal that came to them… Humanity wouldn’t have been destroyed like this.”
It was a definite tone.
The man thought that voice was so beautiful even though it was absurd.
Like a heavenly voice.
“You must be the angel.”
“Because you are the last survivor of mankind.”
“So, what does that have to do with angels….”
He’d crossed the line on the subject of fantasy created by his brain.
The man tried to stand up, but his arm was weak.
A little nodding was all he could do.
So the man saw the identity of the light.
It was an angel.
A deeply wounded angel stood before him.
White wings made of light behind his back, and his body was full of unusual wounds.
Nevertheless, the boy remained angelic.
“To those children… You’ll be a much better angel than I am.”
The angel prayed with his hands folded together.
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