Embers from dying flames flickered from charred trees flicked into the cold air of this night. The clearing was barren, burnt away completely, with the corpse of a ten foot red humanoid creature with twin horns on its head and a now limp tail with the end shaped like an arrow. It was one of the bosses, the friend who was actually a demonic spy and betrayed the protagonist after luring him out the forest to kill the naive hero, so trusting of his apparent comrade.

Yet I was not that hero. The one who owned that title was unconscious on the ground next to me as I poured my magic into him to simulate his own healing process to stitch up the wounds endured to get him stable. I was simply his caretaker as ordained by the most honorable princess, that bitch. I have debated offing her in the past, but that was an impossibility with the royal guards around her that would separate my neck from the rest of my body with a flick of their blades upon sensing any sort of murderous intent. Even if I got past them, I’d be hunted as a murderous traitor who committed regicide and executed as an example to other would-be assassins not to mess with the crown. If she really wanted to, she could kill me now. I was but the third son of a border count of the Vitsi Empire in the worthless northern wastes whose population was more composed of monsters than the sentient races. If adventurers weren’t attracted by the byproducts of the creatures of the Kipu County, my family would be bankrupt by now.

Yet the past was then and the present was now. I had to take care of this newbie hero so he did not end up killing himself. A standard main character of your dime-a-dozen J-RPG, he was someone dense as a black hole with an extreme lack of survival instincts who would pass out from an uncovered ankle like prudish Victorian. This would be all well and good if he had a relatively intelligent player to produce some sort of tactics and strategy for him, but this was not a game anymore, it was reality. This savior had no one to make the decisions for him, he had to make his own, often dumb, choices. I could not guide him really, he actually hated my guts. If I made my presence known to him, there was no telling what he would do, so I had to aid him from secret. Through the whole fight with the devil, I could only subtly weaken the boss monster with holy magic, hidden in the tree line not daring to show my face. This isn’t to say that the feelings aren’t mutual, I despise him. While the mind of the previous owner of this body was gone, the body remembers the unfiltered jealous rage towards the protagonist.

Now I have not been entirely truthful about something, I was not only helping him because the psycho princess told me to, but also the world would reset back the start of the in-game arc at hand if he kicked the bucket. It applied to my own death as well, which was of some relief, although the agony of your last breath is something I rather not experience often. Regression as many call it. I get ten of these regressions per the episode, the will of the world guiding the important characters towards the events of the game. Yet minor characters like me were free from the chains of fate, always interchangeable pawns that can be substituted on a whim if one doesn’t play along. If a minor cog in the machine refuses to work, just replace it. As long as I don’t make major issues for the “plot” then the will of the world could care less about what I do.

Hearing the peaceful snoring of the hero with bright red hair, clutching his silver holy sword in hand, it was too ornate for its own good with the hand guard wrapped in twisting golden vines and letters of the holy script engraved on both sides of the blade to allow it to better channel divine might. If it were me, I’d remove the useless metal vines from the guard but to each their own. It might look cooler this way, but it diminished the combat practicality. 

Yet there was a more pressing matter, the dead demon. I could not just let it sit there. The hellish mana leaking out of the corpse was to monsters like catnip is to cats. I had to exorcize the remains to avoid monsters chomping on the hero as he rested. Using the blunt wooden end of my spear, I drew symbols in the dirt in a circle around the expired devil. Finishing that, with a deep sigh of mourning, I popped the cork of a bottle filled with high quality holy water that hung from my belt underneath my white cleric robes. I didn’t have enough holy magic left in me so I had to backup holy water that cost most of my savings as a medium. I poured it into the channels of the symbols and clasped my hands together.

“Sep Diaĵoj supre.” (Seven Deities above)

“Benu ĉi tiun humilan kredanton per viaj oreloj.” (Bless this humble believer with your ears)

Shining orbs separated from the holy water and began to rise up, circling around the demon faster and faster the further I chanted. Every word sapped a little of the remaining divine magic still within me, although the holy water took the brunt of the cost. A high class ritual, exorcisms were supposed to be conducted with multiple clerics all speaking in tandem to share the excessive amount of holy magic it required. If not for my excellent quality holy water, I would have already used up years of my lifeforce to make up for the lacking mana within me.

“Brakumu ĉi tiun perditan animon.” (Embrace this lost soul)

“Kiu devias de via volo.” (Who strays from your will)

Droplets of sweat trickled from my forehead as my clerical robes stuck to my skin. It was almost like I was running a marathon, unable to take a break for a moment. I could feel my legs desperately trying to remain firm yet failing, shaking in stress.

“Estu feliĉa, perdita animo.” (Be happy, lost soul)

“Reiru al la ĉielo.” (Return to the heavens)

With the final word, the lights layered on top of the demons, covering every inch of its body. Compressing together, the material body erased, only leaving the demonic soul that was then lofted into the sky as a glowing ball. As for myself, I was gasping for air on the ground for around thirty minutes. Even after that time, my heart still felt like it would explode. But, I had to go back to report to the princess so she could swoop in to care for him and score points with the hero as per our deal. Living in this trash game sucked, so I’ve learned for minor characters like myself.