I was Reincarnated as an Incompetent Leader with Zero Popularity who met his downfall early on. Instead of banishing the hidden cheat Protagonist, I decided to embrace him, and somehow, I ended up being treated like a Hero instead. - Chapter 3

Under the stern, unrelenting gaze of the stout tavern keeper, I begrudgingly paid my tab. Her name, I remembered belatedly after stepping outside, was Elda.

The realization struck me: I had named her. It was a strange, almost surreal sensation to be chastised by a character of my own creation.

The streets of the night were nothing like those of the Japan I had once called home. No towering skyscrapers, no glowing convenience stores—none of the familiar trappings of modern life. It felt as though I had wandered into a meticulously crafted medieval fantasy come to life.

Brick and stone buildings lined the cobbled streets, their roofs a mix of earthy red-brown hues and walls a clean, crisp white. Potted flowers sat on some windowsills, adding a touch of life to the otherwise subdued palette. The streets weren’t shrouded in complete darkness, thanks to lamplike structures spaced evenly along the roads.

I found myself gawking like a tourist, my eyes darting to every detail. The shop signs and carvings in particular fascinated me. The tavern I had just left, for instance, had a sign shaped like a frothy beer mug hanging by the entrance.
Then it hit me: this city was Loren.

Loren—a bustling hub for adventurers located about two hours by carriage from the royal capital. A moderately prosperous city, it was the ideal place for adventurers to carve out a living while enjoying a semblance of comfort. In The Shadow Knight Chronicles, it also served as the base of operations for Chrono Knightley, the protagonist.

This city was home to The Grey Hawks, the adventuring party led by none other than Alva Greyblood. After Alva’s death, the group disbanded, and Chrono acquired their headquarters, turning it into a haven for his newfound allies.

“…So all of that happens after I die, huh?”

I stopped to glance at the reflection in the window of a closed shop. Staring back at me was a man with sharp, amber eyes and strikingly red hair. His expression was stern, his features rugged yet undeniably handsome. His tall frame gave him an air of authority.

No surprise there—this character was modeled after a popular male idol my middle school classmates had gushed over. Thankfully, I hadn’t sabotaged his design out of spite, despite making him a villain.

Alva Greyblood. Twenty-five years old. A Silver-ranked adventurer. A skilled swordsman.

In this world, adventurers were ranked in descending order: Black Gold, White Gold, Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Copper. Black Gold and White Gold were the realms of legends—heroes and knight commanders, far beyond the reach of ordinary adventurers. Within the practical hierarchy, Silver was just below Gold, marking Alva as a swordsman of notable skill.

In fact, Alva had been a prodigy. He achieved Silver rank in his mid-teens, a feat so rare that it might only happen to one in five hundred swordsmen. His talent with the sword was undeniable.

But talent is never enough. Alva, complacent with his early success, stopped striving for greatness. He abandoned the grueling training needed to advance further and instead reveled in his status as a Silver-ranked adventurer. Arrogance replaced ambition, and he treated those around him with disdain.

Chrono, whom Alva had dismissed as a replaceable lackey, was his greatest blunder. Unbeknownst to him, Chrono—later known as the Shadow Knight—was a master of both swordsmanship and support magic. His buffs and debuffs had been the key to The Grey Hawks’ success. Without him, the party was exposed, reduced to mediocrity, and barely able to fend off monsters they had once considered trivial.

I sighed, studying the reflection in the window—the man I now inhabited.

For all his gifts, Alva’s downfall wasn’t due to a lack of strength but his own hubris. He had squandered his potential and burned bridges with his arrogance, leading to his inevitable demise.

And now, I was that man. Alva Greyblood.