Reincarnated Hero System

Government Residential Area

Capital City Otrain

Utraria Republic

Alpha Continent

June ???

Year 1052

The employees of one of the few five-star restaurants in the Utraria Republic’s capital city of Otrain all had cold sweat dripping down their backs as they all occasionally stole glances towards a certain open-secret booth on the restaurant’s Gallery-cum-terrace.

Even the restaurant managers could all be seen standing not so far from the 60% tinted glass doors of the booth, glancing at the people inside to see if they were inconvenienced in any way shape or form.𝑂𝚟𝓵xt.𝗇𝓔t

A lot of the guests, mostly being rich merchants, foreign nobles, senators and other high-ranked government officials, all found it strange that the restaurant managers were acting like waiters, wondering just who the guests inside the booth were.

Some of them even noticed that a few of the tables on the ground floor were actually occupied not by guests but by professionally trained bodyguards who were all at least level 250.

This only made people even more curious about the identities of the people in that booth.

If only they knew that the bodyguards were mostly just there for formality and the beings inside there didn’t exactly need them.

And that either in the past or present, those beings all held some of the greatest positions of power in the Alpha continent.

Inside the booth, was a large round table with more than twenty men and women of various ages, chatting over luxurious meals, cooked with high-level ingredients like monster meat that still brimmed with residual magic power or the leaves of plants similar to a certain trifoliate leaved plant near where two Great spirits previously had a ‘conversation’.

In the hands of one of these men, the president of the Utrarian Republic himself, was a newspaper with a particularly catchy title that read:

‘The Birth of a New Hero?’

“A new generation of Heroes, huh? It’s supposed to be a joyous thing but I can only feel ominous signs from it.”

The man spoke as he flipped across the pages of the newspaper, with the majority of the articles covering the recent undead crisis of the Great Western Empire’s Cheverton Duchy.

“Of course, you’d get ominous signs. The fact that heroes are appearing now means that there’s an incoming crisis that requires their power.”

A feminine voice replied to his words, its owner taking a sip of the 100-year-old wine she was served before continuing.

“Last time that happened, the ‘Delta’ Continent became the ‘Dark’ Continent.”

It was a woman with dark curly hair, hanging over a serene-looking face, and glinting dark eyes set low within their sockets.

She wore a quite fancy dress, with a broad waist despite its slim fit. A small bow was wrapped around her waist and positioned slightly to one side.

As for her identity, she was the former Empress of the Great Eastern Empire and the mother of its current Emperor, Empress Dowager Hannah Wilson.

The identities of the two people who just spoke held authority of the highest levels in their respective countries, with influences that stretched far and wide, and anyone who could seat at the same table and dine with them, was definitely someone with an equal or higher level of power and authority.

This was precisely why the Restaurant managers, had personally taken up the task to ensure that none of these men and women was displeased in any way at all.

Opposite the Utrarian president, was a quintet of men who were silently sipping their wine while listening to the news broadcast on a small portable radio that was placed on the desk, one that was still covering the Cheverton indecent, even after a whole month had passed.

One of the men seated there, was a man with short blond hair and blue eyes, a direct reference to what the Great Western Empire’s current Emperor would look like in his middle ages, or at least when he reaches that point in his lifespan.

(Master-level humans can live for 200-300 years without issue so his middle ages would be when he’s around 150+.)

Beside him, was a grey-eyed man with short dark hair and a pensive expression on his lean austere-looking face.

“Hey, grey-eyed idiot over there. Your grandson is becoming popular, you know?”

The blue-eyed man suddenly spoke out loud, his words directed towards his grey-eyed old friend, however, the latter only kept quiet, with a reply instead coming from the woman seated beside him.

“To think that little Roger’s son played a major part in resolving that undead crisis.”

The woman calmly spoke as she used her knife to slice through the juicy meat on her plate, before taking a small bite with her fork and cleaning the little oil off her lips with a serviette.

Her table manners were impeccable, with elegant movements that put her on the level where she could be considered a role model for all noble ladies in all countries.

“Come on, Penelope. Your son is in his forties already, he’s not ‘little’ anymore.”

The blond blue-eyed man spoke with a light chuckle, directly addressing the woman who only nodded in affirmation while sipping her wine.

Although this could already be inferred, the blonde-haired man was none other than the Great Western Empire’s former Emperor and father of the current Emperor, Derrick Hayes.

As for his grey-eyed old friend, that was the Empire’s former Prime Minister, Ronald Del Eris, and the woman beside him was his wife, Penelope Shelton Eris.

“Roger? You mean the one who you sent out with Rudeus to the front lines of that little war a few decades ago?”

“Last I checked, Hannah, I don’t think Ronald has any other kids named ‘Roger’, so it’s obviously him.”

The one who replied to Hannah’s words was someone who personally participated in the final battle against the Eighth Finger, and was responsible for slaying the Undead Dragon that was the deathlord’s trump card, Sword Saint, Luke Bowthe.

From the fact that he casually addressed the Great Eastern Empire’s Empress dowager by first name, it could be seen that the relationship between the two was quite amicable.

“Hey, Luke. You’re the one who has known the kid for the longest time here. How was he really?”

“…”

Derrick posed a question to the Sword Saint, but the man casually ignored the former emperor and went back to his meal, causing some of those on the table to look on in surprise as they never expected Luke of all people to do such.

As for Derrick, the man only sighed and gave a wry smile, fully aware of the reason why Luke was ignoring his very existence.

“Are you still pissed that I told you to let Thompson’s kid take the ‘First Sword’ title?”

“Wait…that’s what happened? For real?”

One of the few non-humans on the table, a brown-haired Elf who was actually the Prime Minister of Uswil, spoke up as he alternated his gaze between the two men.

“I knew something fishy was going on. That Finley kid is strong and all, but there’s no way he would have been able to defeat Luke if he was serious.”

Another non-human, the Duke of Cerul and father of the Beast King Kolvar’s wife spoke up as he rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“HAHAHA…chill out Luke. It’s just a title.

Besides, we’ve got to leave some things to the younger generation, after all.”

A deep voice rang out following Duke Cerul’s words, its speaker being a middle-aged-looking man with brown, short brown hair clumsily hanging over a chiselled, cheerful face.

He removed his pair of brown-tinted glasses to reveal a pair of deep grey eyes as he pointed to himself and continued.

“Look at me…I passed on my ‘Human Flame’ title to my son without issue.”

His casual words revealed something that could be called a secret of the Great Eastern Empire, the fact that the title of ‘Human Flame’ and ‘First Star’ of the Seven-Star generals had actually changed hands in the past.

As for the identity of this man, he was the previous holder of these titles, and the father of their current holder, Thomas Randall.

“I thought that the ‘First Star’ had suddenly learned gravity magic or gained a gravity-related skill, but to think it was a completely different person.”

One of the women seated not too far from Thomas, a ‘Warlord’ of the Desert Kingdom of Tarse who previously ‘sparred’ against Bourne a few years ago, spoke up as she noted the difference in abilities between the man and his father.

“Hmm? Isobel? Didn’t my son beat your ass that time you fought against him?”

The Desert Warlord, Isobel, had her brow twitch in annoyance as she barely held herself back from slugging a punch at the grinning face of the elder Randall man.

Some of the other people seated at the table chuckled in amusement, with two of them placing bets about how long it would take Isobel to finally flip out and carry out another futile attempt to beat up Thomas.

“Tops…five minutes.”

“Nahh…my money’s on three. Thomas looks ready to annoy the hell outta her.”

“Old man Kaur?! You’re joining their bullshit too?!”