SON OF THE HERO KING

“Have you ever watched baseball?”

Sol immediately understood that he was dreaming. A dream that brought back memories he thought he had forgotten in their entirety at this point in his life.

They were memories from a more peaceful time. From a time when he resided in a world with no power or magic. When his greatest worry was his notes and finding a good job in the future after graduating.@@novelbin@@

Sol had once been completely ignorant about baseball, but during his university years, he had no choice but to watch it.

His memories of those times were faint at best, but one of his roommates was a baseball fan— the kind who would wear a jersey and paint his face while paying exorbitant prices for first-row tickets.

For Sol, who was constantly bored with life at the time, such an amount of relentless passion was truly intriguing ways he was unable to articulate at the time.

— What the hell are they even talking about…? He once wondered while listening to his friends.

At first, it was all confusing. The rules, the way points were scored— it didn’t make much sense most of the time. Batting averages? On-base percentages?

None of it clicked with him, but as time passed, he was (forcefully)trained to watch baseball, developed a favorite team, and eventually found himself celebrating wins and sulking over losses.

— Baseball is absolutely insane!

It was fun. There was no other proper way to explain the sport other than the fact that it was fun in its own twisted ways.

Sol found himself shouting at the opposing team and experiencing firsthand how his blood pressure spiked whenever his team lost.

Soon, instead of playing on his PC or reading books indoors, Sol began throwing baseballs, swinging bats, and practicing alone.

His reasoning? It truly wasn't anything grand. In fact, some might even find that it was quite stupid.

— If I’m going to insult the players, I might as well understand how hard their sport actually is.

… And then—

— Holy hell, this is insanely hard.

Sol realized just how unforgiving the sport was. This went beyond simple matters of talent. It was simply a grueling amount of work with minimum results to show for it in a short time.

Throwing a ball properly was no joke.

Hitting one cleanly was even worse.

What shocked him most was how hard and heavy the baseball felt. Throwing it with full force left his elbows and shoulders feeling like they were being ground down in real time. ＲåＮꝊꞖÊș

Stolen novel; please report.

And then there were curveballs and sliders.

After watching tutorial videos and trying to throw them himself, Sol felt like his wrists were being ground down too from the act alone.

He finally understood why pitchers frequently underwent surgeries and why they joked about replacing their elbows on the daily.

After that, Sol stopped yelling at pitchers— and stopped watching baseball altogether.

No yelling meant no high blood pressure.

Instead, he picked up the hobby of playing catch and occasionally practiced throwing breaking balls.

It was his second real hobby in the bleak life of a university student, and he even thought about joining an amateur league after graduating. Even if only for fun.

But who would’ve thought he would die before being able to accomplish anything worthwhile?

“I guess this is why people should always seize the present.”

Sol smiled as he watched his past play baseball all alone, no one there to accompany him. Back then he had been too embarrassed to even talk about his hobby and passion to his roommates.

“I guess even back then I wasn't bad at all. What do you think?”

“My Lord. Be it past, present, or future, you were, are, and will always be magnificent.” Nefertiti's voice came from behind Sol.

He laughed. “You don't seem all that surprised.”

“Lady Nent had already theorized that most Blessed of Lustburg were not from this world. More importantly ever since you awakened your name, I have been getting visions about your past life through my dreams.”

“I see.” Sol was not particularly bothered by those revelations. At the moment, the connection between him and Nefertiti went beyond even his contract with Isis and the others.

The two of them were connected in the most intimate and profound way imaginable. Just like the linking of their souls and beings. He could read all her thoughts with a simple whim and she could access his deepest secrets.

Her soul was not just connected to his.

Her soul was his.

She belonged to him in every way possible. Her life and death were just a mere thought away. No distance could ever remove her from his gaze.

Is this the relationship between a Blessed and a God? He thought at first but rejected this notion. His relationship with Luxuria was very similar but not even Luxuria had the level of control he had over Nefertiti.

“It’s because I have nothing to hide. I gave every part of myself to you. Because I believe in you.”

“Even though in the end, I am nothing but an ordinary man who was lucky enough to change his life?”

Nefertiti smiled gently as she approached Sol and took his hands in hers. Her eyes were earnest as she looked at Sol’s past self, groaning heavily, his hand covered in blisters from all the swinging and the throwing.

The man she was looking at had nothing particularly special.

His appearance was moderately handsome but nothing head-turning. His body was frail, his balance was non-existent. He had no training, no power and certainly did not exude the aura of power the current Sol had.

Even so—

“All I can see is the earnest and steadfast man I feel in love with and came to respect.”

She gripped his hand tighter, not willing to let him go. “We may have met because of common interest and the machinations of Lady Nent. But your personality is what made me fall in love with you.”

He brought light into her world drenched in utter darkness. “I managed to grow, not because I believed in myself. But because I believed in you who believed in me. Because I refused to betray your expectations, I reached new heights.”

She hugged him. “So do not fear my Lord. You are Sol. You will always be Sol and no one can change that.”

Sol hugged her back. “I don't know how I have someone as great as you by my side.”

He had to admit. He felt quite… No. Extremely moved.

As far as he knew, outside otherworlders like Kali and Anubis, or Ambrosia, people like Tiamat, Asmodeus, and Gabriel all knew he was from another world.

Out of the people close to him, Isis and Nent were also aware and Camelia had more or less an inkling of his origins, even if he never went into detail of his past life.

“Even after coming this far, I still have a small modicum of fear about revealing my past identity.”

“I believe none of the people close to you would be so shallow that they would think negatively of you because of this.”

“I know. Quite stupid of me isn't it?”

“There is nothing stupid about fearing rejection. The more we love something, the greater our fear of losing it.” Nefertiti tapped Sol's head. Even though she was shorter than him, at that moment he couldn't help but feel comforted by her.

“My lord. You are nearly perfect. But your most noticeable flaw is your inability to believe in us completely. To believe in our conviction, loyalty, and adoration for you.”

Sol looked offended. “I let the girls fight alone during the war.”

Nefertiti gave him a look akin to a mother looking down at a misbehaving child.

“You let them fight in a war where you had perfect control of nearly every variable and had a demigod on standby. Even Isis had her King-level undead ready at a moment’s notice. Miss Setsuna or Lilin were never in any danger whatsoever. This war was nothing but a game where you gave the illusion of danger to push the weaker girls around you to reach new heights. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I…” For the first time in quite some time, Sol found himself speechless. This was even more so since the one speaking was none other than Nefertiti.

Just what the hell was happening here?