Reincarnated as a failed hero?! Watch me Defy Fate! - Chapter 209

Chapter 209: The King’s Speech

Now, I march alongside the brave knights of the Kingdom of Braveheart and the royal mages of Solara, heading back home — back to Braveheart. Our mission: to report the outcome of the battle, tend to our wounds, and await the decisions of King Aslan regarding what must come next.

The journey was slow and heavy.

Our troops were still reeling — not only in body, but in spirit. We were forced to stop often, to let them rest. The fatigue went deeper than muscle and bone. It dug into the soul. No healing spell, no restoration chant could mend the weight in their hearts. This… was the kind of wound that only time could hope to heal.

I rode in a carriage with my fellow heroes: Cain, Theresia, and Magi Silvanya. With us were Princess Aria and the Patriarch, both lying unconscious — caught in the fragile border between life and death.

The mood inside the carriage was suffocating. Silence pressed on us like a second skin — suffused with grief, with fatigue, with unspoken fears. Only Theresia kept talking, rambling nervously, trying to chase away the gloom. Cain eventually snapped, yelling at her — but ironically, it brought a flicker of life into the moment. I found myself chuckling, just a little. It was a fleeting escape… but even that was precious.

Marius, Julius, Leopold, Lyra, and Freya traveled in another carriage. When I told Lyra and Freya about the deaths of Erik, Falken, and Linda, their faces crumbled.

They couldn’t believe it. Another trio of friends… gone. Just like that. Another cut in the heart.

I tried to console them, offering what words I could… but they remained submerged in their sorrow. They needed time — as we all did.

After a full day of somber travel, we finally arrived at Braveheart the following morning.

The kingdom stood… but not untouched.

Even I, who had seen war unfold before me, felt a jolt at the destruction. The northern and southern walls — once towering symbols of safety — were shattered, broken like glass. Burn marks streaked across the streets. Blood still stained the cobblestones in places. The remnants of chaos were everywhere.

This… this was Xir’s doing.He had unleashed hundreds of chimeras upon the kingdom while we were away.

But thankfully, the damage wasn’t as catastrophic as I had feared. That meant Serena and the reinforcements from Solara had made it in time. They fought back. They saved what they could. Perhaps… they turned the tide.

At the gates, we were met by the remaining Braveheart knights — those left behind to defend the capital. Soon, people from the city began gathering, lining the streets to welcome us home.

But it was not a joyful welcome.

I watched as men and women scanned our ranks desperately — searching for husbands, wives, children, siblings… hoping, praying. Some cried out in joy as they found their loved ones alive. They ran forward, threw their arms around them, collapsed into sobs of relief.

But others… stood frozen. Looking. Searching. Hoping.And slowly, realization dawned — the person they sought was not with us.

Then came the wails. Heartbreaking, uncontrolled, and raw. Mothers sank to their knees. Wives screamed. Children clutched old uniforms as if they could summon the dead. The grief was overwhelming.

And I… I could only clench my fists. Helpless. Angry. Bitter.

The atmosphere was a storm of emotion — relief and despair colliding with every step we took. There were no cheers. No music. No proud trumpet fanfares. Just silence, weeping… and the hollow echo of loss.

I couldn’t blame them.

This was the second time the demons had broken through Braveheart’s defenses. People no longer believed they were safe here. I could see it in their eyes — fear, uncertainty, and resignation.

King Aslan would need to do more than repair walls. He’d need to rebuild morale… rebuild hope.

Eventually, we reached the castle gates. But we weren’t brought inside.

Instead… we were directed elsewhere.

“The King is not in the palace,” one of the knights informed us. “He’s at the public cemetery.”

The cemetery?

Yes… of course. Of course he would be there.

We arrived soon after. And there — amidst hundreds of fresh graves, their soil still dark and wet — stood King Aslan.

He was alone.

Even with one arm bandaged and the other missing, even leaning heavily on a cane, still bloodied and bruised… he stood tall among the dead. Mourning. Leading. Waiting.

I approached him slowly.

“My king… I’ve returned,” I said quietly.

He turned, his one remaining hand trembling slightly as he leaned on his cane. His face lit up with a smile — tired, but genuine.

“Welcome home, Naoki… I knew you’d make it back. I had faith you would return victorious.”

The words pierced me like a dagger.

Victory?This didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like survival. It felt like failure wrapped in glory.

I looked away. “It’s true… we managed to repel the Overlords. But not entirely. They fled back to their domain. We couldn’t finish them.”

“That’s more than enough,” he replied, his voice warm. “It’s a miracle.”

Then his eyes darted past me. “But… where is my daughter? Where is Aria?”

His voice cracked with growing dread.

I hesitated. The words hurt to form.

“Your Highness… Princess Aria is alive… but she’s unconscious. She was gravely wounded during the battle. She… she hasn’t woken up.”

His face went pale.

“And… my father, the Patriarch, is in the same condition,” I added, swallowing hard.

I went on to explain everything — the arrival of two of the Three Demon Overlords, one of them revealed to be Lucius, the strongest hero of Braveheart who had betrayed humanity and ascended to become an Overlord himself.

We fought. We drove them back. But it came at a terrible cost.

Thousands dead.Diamantus, one of Solara’s greatest Magi, among them.

King Aslan listened in silence.

Each revelation carved deeper lines into his already weary face. The mention of Aria’s condition nearly broke him. He turned slightly, gazing at the graves — many of which were still unmarked.

“I… I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” I said quietly. “If I had arrived sooner… maybe I could have saved more.”

He turned back to me, then — not with anger, but with kindness.

“No, Naoki,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “This is my burden to bear. You’ve done more than anyone could’ve asked. You saved my daughter’s life.… she is here. And she is alive.”

He forced a smile.

“You are the savior of Braveheart. And I know… your heart must ache too. Your father still fights to live.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

The King was trying to be strong. I could see through it. The trembling in his voice. The weight in his gaze. But he wouldn’t show weakness. Not here. Not now.

He was still a King.

Even if the world was crumbling around him, he would not bow.

…

Standing before King Aslan in the cemetery, surrounded by the fresh graves of those who had fallen, I felt something stir deep within me.

Hope.

Not blind optimism — but a flicker of belief. That perhaps… after everything, this kingdom could still rise again. Stronger than before.

As the King continued to mourn, I turned to him quietly and asked, “Your Majesty… what of Amelia? Envi and I have been… deeply concerned for her.”

At the mention of her name, a shadow passed over the King’s face.

“Amelia…” he murmured. “That child is still in a coma. There’s been no sign of her waking. Not yet.”

There was a soft sadness in his voice, one that he rarely allowed others to hear. But then, almost as if refusing to dwell in grief too long, he suddenly straightened, his eyes regaining a mischievous glint.

“But hey, Naoki,” he said, suddenly smirking. “I hereby order you to visit her after today’s ceremony. Who knows? Maybe a kiss from you will be the magic that wakes her up!” He chuckled heartily, elbowing me with a wink.

I sighed and gave him a long look. Of course, he would find a way to joke even now.

He leaned in closer, pretending to scowl. “What’s with that look, huh?! That’s an order from your King!”

His teasing grin made him look uncannily like Amelia herself. That terrifying charm… it must run in the family.

“I was already planning to visit her,” I replied, exasperated. “With or without your royal permission, oh overprotective King.”

“HAHAHA!” he roared with laughter. “I knew I made the right choice, choosing you to be her fiancé!”

He raised his hand to clap me on the shoulder — only to hesitate, realizing it was the one he had lost in battle. The moment grew awkward… but he quickly broke the tension, striking me on the back with his remaining hand and laughing again.

Then, his expression turned serious.

He told me that the royal funeral ceremony for the fallen Braveheart knights would begin shortly. The bodies of the mages from Solara would be entrusted to their delegation to return home.

He spoke of Xerion von Solara — how the Grand Magus himself had helped defend the kingdom by arriving with a massive magical airship, carrying hundreds of soldiers. Without his intervention, things might’ve been far worse.

Xerion would attend the ceremony before returning to Solara.

I nodded, acknowledging the significance of such a powerful ally. Then I asked about the reinforcements from Gildoria — the ones Serena had brought. We hadn’t seen them.

King Aslan explained that the Mercenary King and his men had already returned to Gildoria after aiding the battle.

“Three days from now,” the King said, “we will hold a grand alliance council between Braveheart, Solara, and Gildoria. And every hero of Braveheart is to attend.”

I agreed immediately. It was time to solidify our unity — to forge strength for the battles still to come. The Demon Kingdom, Doomspire, would not wait forever.

The King nodded solemnly, then looked at me with renewed fire.

“There is something I wish you to do.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“After my speech at the funeral… I want you to join me on the stage. Stand beside me. I won’t say what yet, but when the moment comes, you’ll understand.”

I didn’t know what he had planned, but I agreed.

The funeral ceremony began.

One by one, the fallen were laid to rest. Brave knights, mages, and warriors — all honored, all mourned. Their names were called. Flowers thrown. Prayers whispered.

The air itself wept with the people.

Mothers, fathers, children, lovers — their cries filled the city square. A sea of grief crashed over Braveheart that day. The sun bore silent witness to the suffering of a kingdom that had already given too much.

Representatives from Solara stood in black robes, offering their condolences. Their magic could heal wounds, but not sorrow. Not this kind.

I had done this once before.

And even now, the pain remained. Grief does not fade. It lingers — like smoke in the ruins of a burned home.

Envi and Runa were quiet within me. But I could feel their sadness. It matched mine.

Lyra, Luna, and Freya wept openly. The loss of Erik, Falken, and Linda had left holes in their hearts. Erin and Termina joined them, clinging to each other as they cried beside the graves of their fallen comrades.

Julius, Marius, Leopold, and I did our best to comfort them.

And then… I felt it.

A gaze.

I turned — and there she was.

Serena.

She stood with Theresia and Cain, dressed in black. Her white hair framed her solemn expression. She was watching me — her eyes filled with relief at seeing me alive… but also shadowed with sorrow.

She gave me a small smile.

I wanted to run to her. I wanted to hold her, to finally speak with her after everything.

But not now.

“This is not the moment,” I told myself.

“I agree,” Envi’s voice whispered inside me. “But don’t forget your promise, Nao. Speak to her when this is over.”

I nodded slightly and returned her smile. The conversation could wait. But not for long.

And then… King Aslan stepped forward.

He climbed the black-draped stage that overlooked the mourning crowd. His armor still bore cracks and dried blood, his crown dull under the overcast sky.

He raised his voice, and the crowd fell silent. This is King Aslan’s speech:

“My people…Today, we bury our dead. We bury knights, mages, brothers, daughters, sons, and lovers. Brave men and women who gave their lives for this kingdom. For us.

But though we bury them, we do not bury their sacrifice.:

These warriors stood between our children and the jaws of Hell. And they did not flinch. They did not falter. Even as death came for them, they stood tall — as Braveheart knights always do.

And for that… we owe them everything.

But I will not lie to you. This battle, though won, was not a victory without loss. The demons may have retreated, but they have wounded us — deeply. They have broken our walls. They have taken our loved ones.

But they have not broken our spirit.

Because from the ashes… a new flame rises.

And that flame is this man…

Naoki von Blackmore.”

—

He turned, and suddenly — with the entire kingdom watching — he beckoned me forward.

Reluctantly, I stepped onto the stage, stunned.

The crowd murmured. Faces turned. Eyes widened.

King Aslan raised my hand.

“He faced the demon overlords with courage no mortal should possess. He drove back Xir, the Singular Calamity, The Demon Warlord Rank 1st. He overwhelmed the Demon Overlords, and they retreated from the war. He brought our sons and daughters home. And even now, he walks among us, bearing the weight of their deaths — not with pride, but with sorrow.

And that, my people, is what makes him a hero.

“I hereby officially announce and appoint the new guardian of Braveheart. A new hero from Blackmore Family. The strongest hero of the Braveheart Kingdom at the moment…Naoki von Blackmore.”

The crowd erupted.

Cheers. Gasps. Some still cried — but now with awe in their eyes.

I stood frozen. I hadn’t expected this. Not here. Not now.

But in the gaze of the people… I saw something rekindling.

Hope.

And in that moment… I realized what the King had done.

He hadn’t just honored me.

He had lit a fire in the hearts of his people.

…

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