Just minna .
And it was true. Across the shattered dais, the yuusha —the Hero—stood motionless, his blessed sword still raised to a sky that no longer needed saving. His name was Theo. And for the past three years, he had carried them: through the Molten Marshes, the Forest of Whispers, the frozen vaults of the North. He had taken the killing blow from the Demon Lord’s scythe for Elara, the cleric. He had split his last ration of bread with Finn, the boy they’d found half-dead in a goblin den. He had done everything a hero should do. yuusha ni minna
“Alena. We’ve slept back-to-back in the rain. You’ve held my hair back when I was sick from a cursed wound. I stole the Crown of Stars for you, and you gave it to a merchant for a horse we rode for two days before it broke a leg.” Just minna
Finn coughed—a wet, ugly sound. The poison was spreading. “Don’t blame him,” he whispered. “He was the yuusha. He had to carry the weight. Maybe if you carry that much, you forget there are other people holding it with you.” His name was Theo