Interlude: The Cu*k Hero Meets the Pure, 2

"S-Sir Nick?" Lucretia gasped, taking a step back, her hands flying to her cheeks. "Who is he...?"

"Sir Galadron the Pure," Nick whispered, his voice trembling in a turbulent mix of deep awe and absolute terror. "The Second Strongest Hero in recorded history. The myth, the legend... System told me his- I mean... I can feel his majestic aura..."

Then, Nick's shock rapidly morphed into aggressive denial as he pointed his sword directly at the smiling paladin. "How is it possible...?! The legends say you died in a glorious, continent-shattering fight to the death against Aldmax's demonic archivist!! You're a copy!! You're just a bad, illusory copy! I was right! Aldmax's dark hand is behind this! I must free this city from this twisted necromancy!"

Luna’s eyes glowed with a piercing silver light as she activated her [Soul Sight]. She gasped, grabbing Nick's arm, her 'stoic' facade slipping just enough to seem genuinely alarmed. "Nick... he's not an illusion. And he's not undead. His soul is... It's shining. It's aggressively, blindingly genuine. He is the real Galadron, and he's too strong."

"It can't f*cking be!!!" he whispered into her ear.

Even Egel took a step back as her body started to shake. 'He's... strong... more than the four of us combined...' She thought, swalloing some saliva.

Galadron strode forward, his golden boots hitting the pavement with heavy clanks. He stopped ten paces from Nick, planted his gauntleted hands firmly on his hips, and let out a hearty, booming laugh that vibrated in Nick's dental fillings.

"GREETINGS, FELLOW ADVENTURER! WELCOME TO THE RENEA AGRICULTURAL BRANCH!" Galadron shouted. Then, the hero tilted his head, his heroic smile softening into a look of profound enlightenment. "A fight to the death? Oh, my dear boy, heavens no! The Adventurer's Guild PR department and King Cuckus III really spun that narrative out of control, didn't they?"

Nick stared, completely paralyzed. "W-What? No!"

"I didn't die in combat!" Galadron laughed cheerfully, waving a dismissive hand. "I had a massive, stress-induced heart attack because Ugo's filing system for soul-contracts was so impeccably intimidating! But you know what? In death, I discovered the pure truth!"

Galadron looked up at the twilight sky, his eyes shining with genuine tears.

"The 'Light' we fought for? The Church? It was all a fabricated lie!" Galadron confessed, his voice ringing with passionate sincerity. "A restrictive, toxic work environment that forced me to swing heavy swords and slay poor, misunderstood creatures when all I ever wanted to do... was pluck strings! I am deeply ashamed that I ever fought for that fake righteousness. But here? Under the visionary leadership of CEO Mordecai? I am finally free! I can finally be what I always dreamed of... A BARD! And a duly elected Mayor!"

Nick’s brain ground to a catastrophic halt. Sparks practically flew from his ears. "You... you're happy being a bard for a Dark Lord?! And who the f*ck is this Mordecai? Speak, or you'll face consequences!" He said, raising his sword.

"Oh? You really said that." Galadron's expression became deadly serious as his gaze locked into Nick's. His eyes became deadly and intimidating, and a bloodlust aura around him, strong enough to kill thousands of monsters with the sole force of his soul, surrounded his body for an instant.

Nick and his harem could feel the immense pressure from him, and the fear enveloped their soul, enough to make them want to run away.

But suddenly, Galadron's voice returned to a normal, happy tone.

"I am a Corporate Bard, young man! Now, speaking of municipal duties..." Galadron reached behind his broad, golden back and pulled out a thick, heavily tabbed stack of bureaucratic paperwork.

Luna let out a sigh of relief, while Nick's legs were shaking.

"I notice you are currently carrying a Class-A Lethal Armament within a strictly zoned residential sector," Galadron stated, his tone aggressively cheerful. "May I please see your 'Unsolicited Heroism Visa', your 'Permit for the Transport of Magical Weapons', and your 'Proof of Anti-Curse Liability Insurance'?"

Nick stared at the massive stack of papers, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. "My... my what?"

"Your permits, sir!" Galadron beamed, stepping closer and physically shoving a dense, eighty-page document printed in excruciatingly small font directly into Nick's free hand. "Also, since you are technically classified as an unregistered wandering mercenary, I will need you to immediately fill out Form 104-B for the separated recycling of monster parts. You see, it is a very common mistake, but goblin blood goes in the organic compost bin, while skeletal remains and corrupted mana stones must go in the dry non-recyclable bin. It's very, very important for our quarterly eco-sustainability goals!"

"I... I am the Chosen Hero!" Nick roared, the last frayed threads of his sanity finally snapping under the sheer weight of the bureaucracy. He crumpled the eighty-page Form 104-B in his fist and threw it onto the freshly paved ground. "I don't need permits! I am above the law when it comes to save my people! I carry the Goddess's blessing! I don't know what kind of sick, twisted dark magic that 'Mordecai' used to break your legendary mind, Sir Galadron, but I will snap you out of it right now with the power of light!"

Nick gripped the hilt of his Holy Sword with both hands, not caring about the fact that he was literally sending his party to die. But hey, he still has his passive [PLOT ARMOR].

His [Heroic Aura] flared violently, shifting from a passive glow to an aggressive, destructive divine light. The air around him cracked with holy electricity. "Stand aside, old man, or I will force my way through and find the demons running this camp!"

Galadron didn't flinch. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't even drop his heroic pose. In fact, his blindingly white smile somehow grew even wider, stretching across his face with a chilling, corporate certainty.

BEEP.

The moment Nick's boot shifted forward, taking a single aggressive step with his unsheathed, glowing weapon, the sky above the village of Renea flashed violently, aggressively red.

"Boss, please... don't do it-!" Egel tried to say, before a colossal System Interface, easily the size of a two-story building, materialized directly in front of Nick’s face. It was accompanied by the deafening, blaring sound of an industrial emergency siren that echoed off the surrounding hills.

[SYSTEM ALERT: LEGAL INJUNCTION TRIGGERED!]

[CRITICAL VIOLATION OF CLAUSE 4-B DETECTED: 'Improper Use of Weapons of Mass Destruction in a Residential and Commercially Zoned Area'.]

[Target 'Nick' is currently under an Active, Legally Binding Restraining Order filed by the Ravenloft Holdings Legal Department (Represented by Attorney Cassandra Lex, the Iron Banshee).]

"WHAT?!" Nick gasped, his eyes wide with absolute horror. The divine glow of his Holy Sword suddenly sputtered, hissed, and died out like a wet candle dropped into a bucket of mud. The blade turned dull and heavy in his hands.

[PENALTY APPLIED: Deducting 50,000 Gold Coins from User's Guild Bank Account for the charges of 'Disturbing the Peace', 'Aggravated Loitering', and 'Attempted Corporate Vandalism'.]

[WARNING: Further aggressive actions within the village limits will result in the immediate, permanent confiscation of your Holy Sword by the System Moderators to cover outstanding legal fees.]

"FIFTY THOUSAND GOLD?!" Nick screamed, his voice cracking so hard it squeaked. That was a third of his entire accumulated net worth. That was months of grinding S-Rank dungeons, selling rare monster cores, and doing sponsored brand deals, entirely vanished in a single, devastating second.

Up in the right corner of his vision, his live stream chat, populated by the fickle and cruel viewers of the Higher Realms, was absolutely merciless. The chat scrolled so fast it was a blur of mockery:

Waifu_Hunter99: "LMAOOOO BRO JUST GOT FINED BY THE SYSTEM! HE LOST 50K TO A PIECE OF PAPER!"

GoonerKing: "The Chosen Hero defeated by property zoning laws and an HOA violation. I literally cannot breathe. I am dying."

CorporateSlave42: "CEO Mordecai is out here playing 4D chess. He sued the Hero before the Hero even attacked. Unfathomably based."

Edgelord_Tears: "Look at Nick’s face! He looks like he just got audited by the IRS! RIP BOZO!"

"Oh dear, oh my," Galadron tutted loudly, shaking his perfectly coiffed head with an expression of exaggerated, theatrical pity. "It seems you are in direct, aggressive violation of the village ordinances. Since you refuse to comply with the mandated paperwork, and you are displaying hostile workplace behavior, I am legally obligated as Mayor to initiate... Bureaucratic Inhibition."

"Bureaucratic what?" Egel asked, her combat instincts suddenly screaming at her. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She felt a deep, primal, instinctual sense of dread creeping into her bones. She instinctively grabbed Nick's arm, her blush completely gone, replaced by genuine terror. "Boss... maybe we should..."

Lucretia, the mage, randomly fell on the ground, saying "Woopsie!", without any particular reason.

Luna, on the other hand, realized that something bad was about to happen, and she immediately prepared to cast a defensive magic.

"Be ready, he's about to-" she tried to say, but it was too late.

Galadron unhooked the beautifully crafted wooden lute from his chest. He held it delicately, reverently, like a sacred artifact of ultimate power.

He closed his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering. He took a massive, chest-expanding breath that seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the square, and struck the first chord.

It wasn't a chord. It was a sonic war crime.

"OHHHHHHHHH!" The sound that erupted from Galadron’s throat was an unholy, physics-defying screech that shattered the boundaries of human comprehension. It sounded like a choir of banshees being dragged backward through a field of rusty nails, while a tone-deaf cat yowled into a broken amplifier in the background. It was so spiritually grating, so phenomenally, aggressively off-key, that the very air in the square seemed to vibrate with physical agony.

"THE HOMEOWNERS' ASSOCIATION RULES ARE CLEAAAAR! NO NOISY ADVENTURERS AFTER DARK, DO YOU HEAAAR?! SECTION FIVE PARAGRAPH TWO SAYS NO SWORDS ON THE GRASSSS! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, YOU CAN KISS MY GOLDEN BASS!"

The effect was instantaneous and utterly devastating. It bypassed all physical armor. It bypassed all magical resistances. It struck directly at the soul.

Luna, the dark elf with highly sensitive, magically enhanced hearing, instantly dropped to her knees. She screamed in sheer agony as she clamped her hands over her long, pointed ears, scratching at the cobblestones. "MAKE IT STOP! MY ANCESTORS ARE WEEPING IN THE AFTERLIFE! THE DISSONANCE IS TEARING MY MIND APART! MAKE IT STOP!" She couldn't even cast a magic barrier in time.

Lucretia’s automatic magical defense shield flared to life, trying to protect her from the auditory assault. It lasted exactly half a second before it shattered into a million pieces from the sheer, concentrated cringe of the frequency. A thin trickle of blood ran down her nose as her eyes rolled back into her head. "The dissonance... it's mathematically impossible... it's destroying my mana circuits... I'm forgetting how to cast fireball...!" She swayed, collapsing against Egel.

Even Egel, the tough, battle-hardened brawler who had taken hits from mountain trolls without flinching, stumbled backward, clutching her head as her vision blurred, supporting the fainting mage. "I'D RATHER GET PUNCHED IN THE JAW BY A GOLEM! WHAT IS THIS TORTURE?! MY TEETH ARE VIBRATING!"

Nick dropped his Holy Sword. The clatter of the legendary blade hitting the cobblestone was entirely drowned out by Galadron, who was now aggressively, violently strumming the lute. The Paladin's blinding smile never wavered for a fraction of a second as he transitioned seamlessly into the second, eight-minute-long verse regarding the proper, legally mandated height for hedge-trimming.

"IF YOUR SHRUBS EXCEED THIRTY INCHES TALL, YOU WILL FACE THE WRATH OF THE VILLAGE HALL! PLEASE KEEP YOUR PETS ON A LEASH AT ALL TIMES, OR WE WILL REPORT YOUR UNREGISTERED CRIMES!"

Nick’s brain felt like it was melting into a hot, useless slurry and dripping out of his ears. He fell to his knees, clutching his temples. He couldn't fight. He couldn't attack. If he picked up his sword, the System would fine him into absolute bankruptcy, repossess his gear, and strip him of his titles. If he stayed, this golden-armored lunatic was going to liquefy his internal organs with the sheer, unadulterated power of off-key municipal bylaws.

There was no monster to slay. There was no princess to rescue. There was no epic glory to be won. There was only the crushing, humiliating weight of a legally binding restraining order and the worst acoustic performance in the history of Aethelgard.

"RETREAT!" Nick shrieked, his voice breaking in sheer, unadulterated panic. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed Lucretia by the collar of her robes, and shoved the dizzy, stumbling Egel toward the village exit. "FALL BACK! EVERYBODY FALL BACK! IT’S A TRAP! A LEGAL TRAP!"

"PLEASE REMEMBER TO SORT YOUR TRASH ON TUESDAYYYYS! AND DO NOT PARK YOUR CARTS IN THE DRIVEWAYYYYS!" Galadron belted out at the absolute top of his lungs, waving happily at the fleeing party as he struck a final, horrific, dissonant power chord that cracked the glass of a nearby lantern.

Nick and his harem didn't look back. They sprinted down the freshly paved, perfectly illuminated road, fleeing into the darkness as fast as their high-level agility stats could carry them. They left behind a trail of dust, fifty thousand gold coins, and the shattered remnants of their heroic dignity. They had been completely, utterly, and legally defeated.

Back in the quiet, perfectly organized village square, the elderly farmer watched the Hero's party disappear into the night. He let out a soft sigh, set his quill down on his clipboard, and casually reached up to pull a pair of heavy-duty, industrial-grade noise-canceling earplugs out of his ears.

"Excellent vocal projection tonight, Mayor Galadron," the farmer nodded respectfully, picking up his chamomile tea. "The acoustic resonance really highlighted the importance of Section Five."

"Thank you, Leroy Jenkins!" Galadron beamed, slinging his lute back over his broad shoulder, his golden armor gleaming in the lamplight. "I do believe my vibrato is improving with practice! I've been doing my vocal exercises! Now, back to work, everyone! Break time is over! We have quarterly wheat yields to optimize and synergy to achieve!"