Hero, Go To School! - Chapter 1 - Hero and Butt-cheeks 1

“Where the hell is that bastard?!”

The maid, pale as a ghost, pointed toward the stables.

“O-over there…….”

The moment I turned my head to follow her trembling finger, the scene before me knocked the breath right out of me.

Beneath a window shattered into pieces lay the private tutor, passed out cold, and the servants who had tried to stop that lunatic were sprawled across the ground, each clutching their abdomen, head, or shoulder with groans of pain. Everything was in ruins, like a massive storm had ripped through the place.

And…… the stable door had been torn clean off.

“He… tore the door off?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. What the hell did he do this time!

That’s when it happened.

Neeeeeigh-!

A rough horse’s cry rang out. With a growing sense of dread, I stared into the cave-like darkness of the stables. The earth-shaking sound of hooves thundered closer and closer.

“Gasp!”

Bursting through the doorless stable was a giant black horse and—

“You crazy bastard!!”

It was Ian, riding it with not a single stitch of clothing on.

His hair, shining like the sun, whipped in the wind, and beneath his thick brows, his eyes blazed like a general charging alone into enemy lines.

Ian tilted his head just slightly to glance down at me. It was just a moment, but our eyes definitely met. Yet, even at my horrified scream, Ian showed no reaction. He simply yanked the reins in his hand, urging the black horse to go even faster.

“Stop!!”

To gain more speed, he raised his muscular backside, which gleamed under the sunlight—gleamed. The firm figure, rising and falling in rhythm with the horse’s gallop, was intense. I found myself momentarily frozen, unable to tear my gaze from his butt, until a scream snapped me back to my senses.

“Stop right there! Ian!!”

I frantically grabbed a nearby horse and gave chase. Ian never looked back, like a warrior riding off to fulfill some great mission.

That lunatic.

The powerful hooves of the black horse struck the ground, kicking up dust, and his golden hair flew behind him like a battle flag.

If you’re going to run, at least head into the damn mountains!

I prayed silently, desperately, but the sounds that followed shattered any hope I had.

“Aaagh!”

“What the hell is that?!”

Screams and frantic murmurs grew louder and closer. By the time I reached the plaza, the scene before me was pure carnage.

I yanked the reins and slowed my horse. As it reared back with a sharp neigh, I leapt off.

He was still completely naked, charging straight toward the massive statue at the center of the square.

Ares Balthazar. The Empire’s so-called hero.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

The patrol blew their whistles and shouted, but Ian ignored them completely. Worse, he began climbing up the lowest part of the statue.

“Ian!!”

I screamed his name at the top of my lungs, but it was as if he couldn’t hear me. In a flash, Ian had reached the statue’s chest and swung his fist.

Crash-!

With a deafening blow, white dust burst from the statue as people screamed in horror from all directions.

“That bastard! He’s defiling our Empire’s hero!”

“Get him down! Right now!”

But Ian didn’t stop. The white plaster continued to shatter under his fists. With another solid thump, the left n****e of the great hero Ares Balthazar crumbled off and fell.

“Stop it, you little sh*t!”

Like someone who had never learned how to stop, Ian kept slamming his fists wildly into the statue.

“My god, how could he do something so horrible…”

“What are you standing around for?! Restrain him and throw him in the underground prison!”

“No… Lord Balthazar…”

The mood of the crowd toward him was no longer just angry, it was bloodthirsty.

And rightly so, even thieves, who valued money above all else, never dared touch the symbol of Ares Balthazar. Yet that naked, deranged pervert laid hands on the hero’s statue right in front of everyone.

In the end, the patrol climbed up to drag Ian down from the monument. But even that didn’t go smoothly. Several of them were knocked out in glorious fashion by his left hook, right hook, elbow attack, and knee kick. The few who remained clung to his ankles and tried to pull him down with all their might, but it was useless.

So I stepped in.

I rolled up my long sleeves past the elbows and tore my skirt halfway up with a sharp rip.