"Excuse me," a small voice piped up.
Hero-chan stared. The children of this era didn't remember the fear. They didn't remember the dark skies. To them, the Demon King was a storybook villain, and she was just a girl in metal plates.
She propped the sword against the fountain wall. She could retrieve it later, or leave it for the next fool who thought adventure was a romantic thing.
The silence was the loudest thing Hero-chan had ever heard.
