“I won’t deny that,” I said. It was just common sense. You only ever noticed the power that had been quietly protecting you when it was finally gone. Even worse, if people relied upon something completely, once it was gone you were left with people who could do nothing for themselves.

“We heroes . . . have to be more than just self-satisfied. We really needed to be more like you, Naofumi—working to make people happy and to prevent them from slipping into that same corruption.” As Itsuki talked, I was having flashbacks to my time as a merchant in Melromarc. Itsuki had joined a revolution and defeated an evil king, but the people saw nothing but a change in their leadership, and their daily lives had only gotten worse.

That wasn’t what it meant to save people.

“That’s why you say you’re creating a place for these people to live after you’ve gone home, right?” Itsuki said.

“I started out just wanting to thank Raphtalia,” I said.

“Even so. By learning the importance of protecting other people, everyone also feels what it is like to be protected themselves. That’s why your village is such a nice place. I want to protect it myself—the justice that you protect, Naofumi,” Itsuki told me.

“Justice, huh?” I said. I had no intention of saying things that I thought to be true were justice. I’d made a whole bunch of mistakes myself. But Itsuki saw justice in what I had done. “If you think you see justice in me, then stick with Rishia. You don’t have to worry about me.” I had some mental leeway myself, and thanks to Raphtalia and Atla, I was now capable of accepting the feelings of the others as well. I knew I had better things to do than pick over everything Itsuki had done in his past.

“I did something really horrible to Rishia. She was struggling with her low status and wanted to become a hero . . . but I looked down on her, just like so many had looked down on me. I thought it was only natural that I be praised and respected. I saw my past weaknesses in Rishia and so I discarded her,” he muttered, his voice full of regret, eyes downcast. “I have to spend my life to make amends to Rishia and stop Mald and the others. That’s the punishment for my sin.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” I replied. Armor had been rambling on about his own warped sense of justice. He wasn’t the kind of person we could come to an understanding with. L’Arc had said Armor was trouble the first time he saw him too. I didn’t know whether he had been warped into that under Itsuki, though, or whether he had started out that way.