I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much time has passed. I don’t know when the monsters had left, nor when the forest got dark. I must have stood stock still for hours before the flicker of “life” returned to my cold, undead eyes.

I sank lower, hovering just above the mud, as I took in my surroundings. The forest, as quiet as a graveyard, seemed trapped in time. Not even a hollow wind stirred the branches of the mourning trees. The stench of blood and decay clung to the air like a second skin, mixing with the earthy scent of damp soil.

Then I saw her. What was left of Ichni—the poor, desecrated princess. Red strands of her hair lay tangled in the muck, flickering with faint, ember-like light. The glow, the last whispers of her essence, danced away into the void. It wasn’t right. The forest denied death itself, trapping her soul here. She’d never move on.

And neither would I. After realizing just how powerless I was, I felt vulnerable, ashamed.

“This… isn’t how stories are supposed to go,” I muttered, staring at her remains. The flickering lights dimmed further. I wanted to vomit, but my undead body had nothing left to give. “Why did she have to die? Why were there demons—turning on each other, no less?” My voice cracked as I struggled to comprehend it.

I clenched my fists, trying to summon tears that wouldn’t come.

I felt empty to my core. “She asked for my help,” I whispered.

That thought burned, blistering my hollow chest with a sensation I both understood and welcomed: hatred. Rage. It settled in like an unwelcome old friend you grudgingly saved a seat for by the fire. Why did it matter that she died? She was a demon, after all. I’d slain more than my fair share of her kind.

“What’s one more to the pile?” The words felt hollow, my usual self-soothing bravado falling flat. Guilt pressed down on my shoulders like sandbags, dragging me into the mud. I felt revolted by my own words, knowing that she clearly had a heart. She felt emotions, a whole slew of them in fact. Discarding my own trying to justify her death meant surrendering my own humanity, and I couldn’t do it.

I was supposed to be a hero. The hero. I’d sacrificed everything to become a Paladin. I was supposed to protect the innocent and strike down monsters like that Lion-Ogre. Instead, I’d failed—again.

I don’t care why I had initially claimed the role. I understood that I was once a scumbag that didn’t deserve redemption, and yet I took the opportunity in earnest and lived a life I never thought possible. I was pragmatic in my new approach with how to live my modest, fruitful life to its fullest, yet here I stood, with no practiced teaching to lean on, no scripture to explain why I or this princess must suffer such a cruel fate. I felt the frustration come to a boiling point, and succumbing to its spiteful allure, I exploded.

“I NEED ANSWERS!” The roar tore out of me before I could stop it, raw and desperate. Shadows danced around me as my voice trembled through the stillness, shaking the immovable.

I wasn’t supposed to be some backwater shade. My eyes turned to the sky, searching for the faint stars peeking through the branches. I looked for answers that would never come.

“Great light!” I called out, voice cracking. I could hear the pain in each word that passed my lips . “Where is my afterlife? I served you faithfully, protecting the kingdom and upholding your will. And this is my reward? Eternity in this cursed place?”

Desperation clawed at my voice. I was actually praying for divine intervention— something considered insanity in my first life, and heresy in my second. But what did I have to lose? If the teachings were the fruit of humility, then let the sin be the pie of accomplishments I present in sheer mania.

“I rebuilt your shrine! I opened a gift shop with tacky trinkets in your name! I founded an orphanage for cats—cats, for crying out loud! Do you know how many litter boxes I had to clean every day? TWELVE!” My voice broke into a frustrated sob. “I faithfully changed their litter because you love cats!”

I slumped over, my boneless body buckling in defeat. My words were swallowed by the empty embrace of the forest. I felt my words dampened as if being eaten by the woods themselves. No soul would hear me here. Not even a treant would stir to my call. There was nothing, as before.

Several minutes passed as I looked into the glowing red dust of the princess, as though her body was my own last campfire to rest at. Once she’s gone, only darkness will remain. I kept going in dismay.

“Please,” I murmured, voice cracking. “I’m lost. Blind to my path. I’m begging you… show me the way.”

No answer came.

This was it, I guess. Sorry, G.G., I know I was supposed to do something, but in the first critical turnpoint, I had already screwed up somehow. I know I should press onward, use this as an experience to bolster my resolve, but this… this was too much for someone like me.

“I guess everything is lost, then. My time is up,” I sniffed bitterly. “Who would have thought that I would be the one to fade into obscurity? All these years, and it’s now I’ve finally fallen.”

Ichni’s soul flickered, coalescing into a tiny orb of red light. I stared at it, mesmerized. It was different from the golden, radiant souls I’d known, but unmistakably a soul nonetheless. She may have been a demon, but if she had a soul, she had been a person. A chance for redemption.

As the light fluttered uneasily against my face, I realized that chance was slipping away.

“I guess your time has come, too,” I sighed with a resigned smile, as though I was welcoming an old friend to the other side.

“All our times have come, faithful Paladin,” a voice breathed in my ear, soft as the brush of a ghost’s hand.

My mind ran taut, the words leaving me tingling—a sensation I hadn’t felt since my death.

My neck twisted and turned as the world of blacks and grays, once held at bay by the soft red glow of Ichni’s soul, were suddenly illuminated with a myriad of colors. Radiant orbs of light descended, joining Ichni’s fading aura. There were four of them: a burning red, a soft white, a flowing blue, and an earthen tan. They danced around me playfully, their faint radiance casting eerie shadows against the trees.

“What…? There are more lost souls here?” I wondered aloud. For a brief moment, I thought they might have been descendants of Ichni, come to collect her for the afterlife.

The orbs positioned themselves in a semicircle opposite Ichni’s remains, as though a jury to judge their demon peer. One pulsed brightly, and a voice rang out, deep and resonant.

“They were here once, but they have gone,” declared the red orb, its tone that of a young man, reverent as a sage.

“Who’s gone, great lights of the woods?” I inquired cautiously. This is the first time I’ve actually encountered what felt like divine creatures of the light, not unlike the elemental behemoths that roamed and rested back in the day. While my sight suggested they were powerful souls, their presence betrayed a much deeper sensation.

“The Gods, the seasons, even the reaper,” the grey orb replied. Its voice was older, gruff but kind, like a weathered elder. “This realm has been abandoned. The winds are stale. The sun hides staggered behind a perpetual veil. Rain falls as tears for the state of the world. But do not despair—I live on. We live on.”

So they were ancient spirits. I realized with a jolt that I was in the face- or rather, faces- of something far older, far greater, than myself. These are beings whose teachings I once strived to serve, their presence meant to shroud my mantle. I didn’t know if they were gods or simply remnants of a greater divine purpose, but I trembled in my fragile state as I felt their omnipotent gaze on me.

“I’m sorry for my state, great spirits. I know my appearance is… lacking,” I confessed gingerly, gesturing to my lackluster spectral form. "but I was once a noble Paladin that carried the holy light, and wielded the legendary shard of divinity, Chandrabolg.”

“We know, Paladin.” chimed the blue orb, its voice motherly and soothing. “We were not fooled by the veil of your unfortunate circumstances. What we do not know is why you are here, now of all times.”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” I admitted, grasping at straws. “Where am I?”

The tan orb brightened slightly. “You stand in the Forest of Passing, where the living come to die and the dead come to linger. Your soul sought passage, but something binds you here. Tell us, loyal knight—do you know what holds you back?” Not quite like the other three that felt warm and welcoming, this one carried an air of authority, as though once a ruler. Still, the stern tone wasn’t derisive or condescending, but that of a firm and fair king.

The Forest of Passing. Fitting name for a place like this. A sick twist of fate that Ichni had ended up here, of all places. Too bad she hadn’t stumbled into the Meadows of Refuge. Or, hell, even the Swamps of Secret Hiding Holes would’ve been better.

The light was right, though. G.G. said so all the same, and I felt the invisible wall myself. Nothing here seemed to be able to pass on, and I unfortunately fit the category of “nothing”. Whatever answer the tan light was looking for, I unfortunately didn’t have it, otherwise I wouldn’t be in this mess.

“I suppose I couldn’t move on,” I guessed with a heavy sigh. “Something kept me here. Maybe guilt. Maybe unfinished business. I have plenty of it, to be frank.”

The orbs hovered in contemplative silence. I shifted uneasily under their scrutiny.

“Well, that explains my situation,” I added, trying to change the topic to a burning question I had. “Forgive me for my impertinence, but what about you four? What are you doing here?”

They began to circle me again, their movements slow and deliberate. A soft, harmonious melody rose from their glowing forms, an invitation to cosmic wonder that left my mind with something close to nostalgia. They spoke in alternating sentences this time.

“We are the Four Lights of Nevermore,” the red orb said. “The last remnants of hope in this dying world, courtesy of a dastardly abomination. We have searched for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” I echoed, skeptical. “No offense, but you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel here. Being a hero might be on my resume, but I’ve since been, uh, ‘relieved of duty’.”

The blue orb chimed in gently. “You underestimate yourself, faithful one. But your doubt is understandable. You have been through much.”

Her words stung more than I cared to admit. I had spent decades of my life in service, only to be prompted by a humiliating execution and subsequent defeat of everything I held dear. Saying I went through the ringer was an understatement by this point.

I folded my malformed arms, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Alright, fine. If you’re the last hope for this world, what was your plan until I came into the picture?” I asked with a barrage of questions soon following. ”Who is this spider princess and why did she have to die? … Ichni, that was her name.”

Another pause came as they considered everything I asked. I wasn’t expecting divine enlightenment, nice as that would be, but if I could just peek behind the curtain of whatever hell this world is in, that would be a good start.

The tan orb’s voice grew grave. “The spider demon was, in fact, of royal heritage. The Demon King’s lineage runs shallow, yet she was among his heirs. Despite her promising fate, her life was severed too soon, by treachery even we did not foresee.”

Well, holy shit, a Demon King? Forget that commander, there’s a king now? I got knocked down more pegs than I can count by one of these kind’s minions, and now I’m knee deep in a kingdom full of these monsters? Well, at least they can’t hurt me in my sorry state for now. Not unless there’s demon Paladins too.

“Our presences have long since dwindled as the Demon King rattled our chains binding him.” The elderly grey one added. “Just as we imprison him in his lair, we too are prisoners in our own shrines. While we may seem here, our true selves languish in the depths of our corrupted halls.”

“So there’s a freaking Demon King, and you’re binding him with your sacred power.” I concluded.

“We are.” One acknowledged.

I looked incredulously at the princess’s corpse. “And this is one of his children?” I asked in disgust.

“She was.” Another agreed.

I instinctively tried to spit on her, but obviously with the lack of saliva– and most of my mouth for that matter– it was mostly a rude gesture in spirit; forgive the pun.

They patiently waited when I eventually mouthed, “Patooie!”

Taking some time to mourn some of the guilt I gave to the spider like it came with an expiration date, I turned back to them. “So you’re all the divine light left in this world, and this thing’s father is what haunts his land. That’s not good.” I muttered, trying to summarize their point.

“It is as you say. Bound from our shrines, we hold him captive in his lair so his wrath cannot invade what is left of his sanctum, but it is not enough. We need you, Paladin. We need hope.”

I stared at my ethereal hands, my tattered form, and gave a dry laugh. “You’re in for a disappointment. Look at me—I’m some wretched spirit cast in the aftermath of a lost war. A Nothing-Class reject. What could I possibly do?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The white light and red light lit up, as though consulting each other with their musical pings. After a moment. The red scholarly voice spoke up. “One step forward at a time. We offer you an accord.”

“Like the car?” I quipped automatically.

“...W-what?” The white orb sounded genuinely baffled.

“Oh, uh, it’s, uh…” I stammered, realizing my mistake. I began stumbling in my words as I had instinctively joked about something that I had zero chance of explaining the reference. “A type of wagon. Sturdy. Fits four horses. Never mind.”

The orbs chimed together in what I could only assume was divine exasperation. “We offer you a divine contract,” the red orb clarified. “We want you to swear loyalty to us as the source of your holy power, and in return we will grant you a spark of life—and the strength to fight. Only then can you find a chance for salvation.”

Oooooh. Like a “kiss the ring, and we’ll help you out” kind of situation. I looked around embarrassed, as if the luminous spirit just asked me out. It’s my sacred oath, my absolute swearing to protect your tenets and vows. They want to overwrite my old ones, which is, as the holy knights would say, treacherous heresy. They might as well be asking me to commit religious adultery!

“Well, you see, I did one of those already when I was a wee lad.” I said with a sheepish grin, tapping my pointer fingers together.

“Yes, and?” the tan orb pressed impatiently.

“Well, heh heh, if I just make a divine contract with anyone, especially four of you at once, people will think I’m a, and forgive the insult, a cleric or something. I’d be embarrassed in the streets.” I professed in a bit of sympathetic shrug, as if trying to shoot down a divine orgy.

There was a pause, with the four of them completely disarmed from my response. Silence followed—a thick, judgmental silence that gathered like dust on the conversation.

After a few moments they began to ping to each other in some kind of sacred group huddle. I tried to listen in to get bits of words between the symphony of chiming sounds.

“This one is an imbecile.”

“We sure we want to entrust him with our fate?”

“It’s been a long time since the last one.”

“We could keep waiting. He’ll just mess things up.”

“He’s just embarrassed of being sacredly slut-shamed.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s weird, and he smells.”

“That’s just the corpse.”

I slumped over as the last of the petty criticism was still beating my ego up. “Sacred Four-Lights, I can hear you.”

The blue orb floated closer, its motherly tone attempting to soothe. “Oh, honey, you’re seriously afraid of being called a holy harlot? This is the fate of the world we’re talking about. New realm, new you, you know? Prithee a soul will know the difference.”

“Honey?” I muttered internally. That’s no innocent divine being—that’s a car salesperson trying to close a deal!

Still, it was clear they needed me, just as much as I needed them. Maybe more. If they were trying this hard, I might as well see how far I could push things.

“I… I guess,” I said slowly, feigning hesitation. “But do I get a weapon? Maybe a new sword?”

Thoughts of dreamily holding another equivalent of Chandrabolg danced in my head as I asked. Fairies gave King Arthur his sword or something, surely these super divine, all powerful spirits can conjure something up?

The orbs pulsed in what I could only assume was another group huddle. After a brief, musical discussion, the tan orb replied, “No. We don’t give swords. That’s a myth.”

I sighed, then remembered I can’t sigh. Gods, just give me lungs!

“Okay… armor, maybe?” I ventured, testing the waters further.

More chiming. The red scholar's voice finally responded. “... We can do armor. We need to tie you back to the mortal realm anyhow, so you can obtain our essence in full.”

I grinned and went to do a fist pump, and the motion took several seconds as my arm thrusted like I was pulling it out of molasses. Still, this was shaping up better than expected. A revival and armor? That's a win in my house!

“Alright, I want golden armor like that ugly bastard did, the ogre cat guy.” I pressed my side of the bargain. “But with more gold and silver if you can do it. Trim it however you like, as long as it looks cool as hell. And a cape!”

The tan orb sighed deeply, like a dad shutting down a ridiculous Christmas list. “We have golden armor at home.” His voice came like he was making a decree. “We can’t whip up fancy custom-order sets just because you’re asking for it, so please make do with what we have for now. Perhaps once you free us, we can, as the mortals say, ‘hook a brother up’.”

Fair enough. I nodded with acceptance. I mean, he’s right. It sounds like they’re using most of their power trying to keep the Demon King at bay, so asking for a resurrection AND legendary platemail isn’t really a fair deal. They help me out, then I help them out, and THEN I get the sweet golden breastplate, like an unlockable post-game accessory.

Still, the thought of fighting without a weapon made me uneasy. I’d have to rely on my fists—lefty and righty—until I found something more practical. Not like I actually expected to march straight to this Demon King guy and challenge him to a wrestling match, but it would be nice to have some sort of way of getting the jump on him.

Maybe a tour guide, or an ally, or… a very scorned demon princess that was just betrayed by him. My face lurched into a leer as I rubbed my chin, as though I just stumbled upon the Holy Grail of plot devices. Sure, we’re naturally repulsive to each other, and she’s probably not going to be chummy with the shade that failed to save her, but, what’s the harm?

My gaze shifted to Ichni’s remains, an idea sparking in my mind.

“And,” I said, voice firm, “I want you to save the princess.”

“...What?” All four orbs stopped circling and rotated to face Ichni’s lifeless form. Even her tiny remaining soul seemed to twitch, as though hearing the request herself.

“The crimson spirit. Ichni. She is the princess, right? If anyone knows what’s going on around here, it’d be her,” I reasoned.

The blue orb gasped in shock, like I had swore in church. The red orb floated forward, its scholarly tone incredulous. “She’s a literal demon. A black widow with royal blood. You know how demons work, right?” he asked as though I wasn’t quite sure what the difference between a demon and an unbroken house pet was.

“I know,” I said, meeting their glow with determination. “It’s a risk, but she asked for help. If she can assist me somehow in fighting this demon king, what’s the harm?”

“She can kill you.” the red orb pointed out calmly.

“I’m half-dead already!” I retorted, barely able to contain a laugh.

Yet another group huddle of mild jabs and uncertainty began, and it looked like they were evenly split with the idea of resurrecting one of their sworn enemies. I crossed my arms as though this would be a deal-breaker for me otherwise, though if they refused I wasn’t about to pass up the offer.

“Please.” I added, with sincerity in the word.

Finally, the blue orb floated forward, its motherly tone returning. “I, we… we’ll bind her spirit to you, as it’s literally against the contracts to bring a demon back to life. Best we can do.” We both waited for the other to continue, but I kept silent, so she went on. “After you save us and if she helps to defeat the Demon King, we’ll bring her fully to life if that’s still in the cards.“

I paused, pretending to think for a moment, and then nodded enthusiastically. “I suppose it can’t be helped, then. I won’t beg for any more, I would be the fool to do so otherwise.”

“We pray you trying to save a demon isn’t foolish enough…” said the brown regal light.

The four orbs floated a short distance away, their lights dimming as they prepared. I could hear the general vibe, but otherwise it sounded like they were trying to hype each up for some kind of miracle to occur. After some laughs and whoops, their voices blended into a harmonious chant, each note resonating with power. The melody was almost comforting—until the chanting paused, and they turned to me.

“Repeat after us, redeeming Paladin,” the red orb instructed. “These words will bind you to our holy service and restore your spark of life.”

I took the position of a person ready to be knighted by royalty, although not really being able to kneel, or touch the ground for that matter, made the posture a little silly looking.

“Alright, I’m ready.” I murmured, my head nodded in reverent tranquility. Last time I did this, the whole process took a whopping two hours, and my knees nearly gave out on me. I’m almost certain I had entered some sort of trance trying to spout whatever religious mind washing drivel they had me chant back then.

For a chance for life again, however, I’d recite the whole set of holy scriptures backwards while on my head if that’s what it took.

“‘I, Adrian Legend, vow to serve the Four Lights of Nevermore,’” the red orb intoned.

“I, Adrian Legend, vow to serve the Four Lights of Nevermore,” I repeated idly. That’s weird, I never told them my name, but I suppose it’s not unreasonable to assume they knew all about me with their divine presence.

Before I could ponder it further, pain exploded through my form.

The pain was like nothing I’d ever felt—not even when the Demon Commander’s club had shattered my ribs. This was different. It was raw, primal, as though my very essence was being torn apart and stitched back together by unseen hands. I doubled over, my shadowy form writhing as runes of blinding light carved into me, burning with every twist and turn.

I collapsed into the mud, my limbs trembling, and felt something strange—something physical—coating my body. It was thick, like molten wax, seeping over me in waves. As it hardened, it pulled at my form, reshaping it. My fingers twitched, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt weight. Real, tangible weight.

The transformation wasn’t graceful. My once nonexistent bones cracked and snapped into place, as if the very foundation of my being was being rebuilt piece by piece. I gasped, feeling a tightness in my chest. It took me a moment to realize what it was: air. I was breathing. My lungs, neglected for so long, struggled with each rasping inhale, and the air felt stale, like breathing in a dank basement. It didn’t matter, the sensation was intoxicating. I clutched at my chest, marveling at the dull thud of a heartbeat—weak, erratic, but there.

My other hand pressed into the muck, fingers sinking into the cold, wet earth. It was disgusting, but I didn’t care. I could feel it. I could feel everything. The chill of the air on my skin, the weight of my body, the ache in my muscles—all of it was overwhelming and glorious at the same time.

I staggered to my feet, my legs shaking like they were barely mine. The armor clinging to my frame didn’t help—rusted, ill-fitting, and riddled with holes, it looked like it had been pulled from a battlefield centuries ago. My arms were exposed, revealing skin that was pale and thin, almost translucent. I stared at my hands, the veins beneath the surface faint but visible. They looked… human. Sickly and fragile, but undeniably human.

Then there was the gem. My gaze fell on the gauntlet encasing my left hand, its craftsmanship ancient but sturdy. Set into the back of it was a red gem, slanted like the eye of an ancient demon. It gleamed with an unsettling light, and as I turned my hand, it almost seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. Definitely not the holy relic I’d envisioned, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I stumbled forward, every step an awkward negotiation with my new body. My knees buckled, and I caught myself against a tree. The bark scraped my arms, sending a jolt of pain through my body, and I winced.

Pain. I’d forgotten what it felt like. The sting of it was almost comforting.

I leaned against the tree, taking deep, shaky breaths. The air was stale and damp, but it was air, and I reveled in the sensation. My senses were dulled, my body frail, but I was alive—or something close to it. I wasn’t nothing anymore.

Looking down at my reflection in a pool of muddy water, I saw a shadow of who I once was. My face, gaunt and pale, bore the marks of my ordeal. My hair, once golden and vibrant, hung in ashen strands around my face. But my eyes—my eyes burned with a faint light, a spark of life that hadn’t been there before. Now golden yellow, like that of the princess, I knew there was something unnatural about my state, but I didn’t mind.

For the first time since my death, I smiled. It was small, faint, but real.

“There… the spark of life has been given,” one of the Four-Lights murmured. Their once-vibrant hues now flickered weakly, dimmed by the effort.

“Thank you,” I said, genuine gratitude coloring my voice. I turned to Ichni’s soul, still flickering faintly. “And the princess?”

The grey orb floated to her remains. With a gentle nudge, her essence flew in a ray of light into the larger gauntlet. The demon’s eye, once dormant, now shown with a gleaming and dangerous light. So that’s what it was for, I thought.

“She is bound to you now,” the orb explained. “She will slowly revitalize through you, but her state will reflect yours, great hero. Our contract has been completed.”

I studied the gem, rotating my hand to catch its glow. Ichni’s presence was faint, but it was there. She needed time to adjust to her new “home.”

“You’ve done excellent work, my sacred companions.” I said, turning back to the Four-Lights with a firm nod. “This will be the foundation of a new story.”

The orbs began to fade, their lights scattering like embers in the wind. “Seek us, oh faithful one.” they said in unison, their voices echoing as they weakened. “Aratan Villa will be your first step. Arm yourself, then find us at the four corners of this realm. We await you at the shrines we are imprisoned in… free us from our chains…”

Aratan Villa, is that a nearby town? I don’t know which way is out of these gloomy woods, but I suppose I could try to ask Ichni before I wandered aimlessly.

The rest of their words were a bit garbled in the exposition, though. I was supposed to stop the Demon King, right? Or was I supposed to hit up these prison-shrines and free them first? What about the money for travel?

As they faded out of sight, their last words echoed through the silence. “May the divine lights guide your path, now gather your strength and wisdom to vanquish the evils that lurk, and uphold the justice of the world…”

I had more questions, to be sure, but I suppose I could wait until I found one of them at a shrine.

Like, first off, chains, for realsies? They were freaking gods! Chains aren’t going to bind divine beings of light, and even if they could, how was I supposed to break something of that caliber?

As the darkness of night lifted like the curse of death had retreated, I looked around as the soft glow illuminated the forest. I felt a brush of sunlight touch my cheek, and to my relief only felt its warmth. I smiled at this acknowledgement. I wasn’t nothing anymore.

Spotting the path of broken wood and vines, I realized that I could follow the path that giant furry menace had so kindly laid out for me. As for any threats that lie lurking beyond, I was at an extreme disadvantage with no weapon in hand. I’d have to rely on my own survival instincts in the meantime until I found a safe place to take shelter.

With the first steps of a plan in hand, I began to make my way forward to what I hoped was the way out of these god awful woods before I realized I needed to check a couple more things. I dropped my trousers, scratched some itches that plagued me, and then took the most animated piss I could imagine. Everything was there and in good working order as I sighed from the primal relief. What a time to be alive.

Then I shrunk away from the sight of the princess’s mutilated corpse as I realized I was practically adding to her desecration. Oops.

I spent the first hour of my new life burying the remains of the demon girl I failed to save, as well as the secret of my second tragic mistake.