Unlike his first several incarnations, it wasn’t well known what Titus the Shadow was the incarnation of.

Titus the Traitor was Wrath, Titus the Mad was Madness, Titus the Destroyer was Wrath yet again, and Titus the Tyrant was Pride personified.

But what was the Shadow?

The answer? No one is sure. Reports are… conflicting.

- Excerpt from “The Unknown [Demon Lord]”

-------

There’s a Placeholder rule about fire spells that hasn’t really come up much in my past lives.

Fire spells only light objects on fire if the caster wants them to.

It was a good thing I wanted it to. Desperately.

The floor I was standing on, the walls, the ceiling, and the nearby [Soldiers] all were engulfed in black flame.

Typically, this is where the mooks would run away while screaming about being on fire. Unfortunately, these were high-level [Soldiers], not your average mook. They stood their ground, and one of them immediately thrust his spear at me.

He was fast, but my reflexes were just barely enough. The spear tip went a mere inch from my nose as I jerked my head out of the way.

Then, before he could pull his spear back in, I made my counterattack. I grabbed just below the head with my left hand and forcefully brought an [Earth Strike] down on it with my right.

I snapped the spear in two as the somewhat bewildered [Soldier] looked on.

One down, seven left. I thought.

Of course, I was completely wrong about that. I watched as the disarmed [Soldier] simply pulled a replacement spear out of his inventory. That meant I wasn’t watching the two men behind me who both impaled me simultaneously.

I let out a gasp of pain as about half of my health bar vanished, and I quickly came to a conclusion.

Time to get the heck out of here.

I [Flash Stepped] out of the encirclement and took off running down the hall.

There was a multitude of overlapping shouts.

“We’re under attack!”

“After him!”

“We need a medic!”

I was confused about the last one for a brief moment but came to a grim realization right after.

The guards that I knocked out were in the AOE. They’re dying.

However, I didn’t have time to worry about them. I had [Soldiers] on my tail, and they were faster than me.

“[Summon Dave]!” I cast with the remaining mana in the wand I had out.

I flung the summoned monster into the first [Soldier’s] legs behind me.

That bought me little more than a second as the dave was skewered and dead on short notice, but a second was life and death in that situation.

I threw open the door at the end of the hallway and slammed it shut behind me. I found myself in the main barracks… with dozens of [Soldiers] staring at me in various states of dress.

However, no one told the [Soldiers] chasing me that we were currently having a moment, and they jarred us out of it collectively when they started battering against the door.

I braced myself against it and managed to keep it shut against the first salvo, but the peaceful interlude was over. The first occupant of the room charged me with a spear.

Slow. I thought as I easily sidestepped his thrust. He had also thrown himself a bit off-balance with the attack, so I took advantage of that to toss him behind me and into the door.

Unfortunately, I was just a bit slow on that maneuver. The door slammed open before my human barricade could be put in place. Instead, he rolled to a stop at his reinforcement’s feet.

They quickly stepped over him, and I was now back to square one. Except square one now had additional [Soldiers] placed on it.

Good thing those guys are my advantage. I thought as I sprinted towards the lower-leveled mooks.

Their training must not have covered “what do you do if you wake up, caught in your skivvies, and you have a [Demon Lord] with his aura blasting coming at you? Respond in 2, 1-“

My [Earth Strike] fist collided with the first man’s face, and he staggered with the blow. I followed it up with some quick [Fire Strikes] that dropped him unconscious. Then, before he could fall, I slipped past him and held him up as a human shield in the direction of the actual threat.

“I think you all should stop right there,” I stated gravely. “I can kill a man pretty quickly from this position.”

“We don’t negotiate with the [Demon Lord]!” one of the higher-leveled [Soldiers] shouted. “Keep up the attack!”

It was hesitant, but the attacks still came in. My hostage was both a blessing and a curse. He made it much harder to move, but at the same time, they were rightly hesitant about sending a man into negative HP.

Unfortunately, my move cost me. The elites either had the [Enhanced Party] perk, or they had some type of hand code they were able to use to communicate without speaking. Either way, the result was the same. The exit to the barracks was closed off as four of the elites posted themselves right in front.

I dodged another spear thrust and decided my hostage had outrun his usefulness. I practically threw him at the remaining elites and prepared to get another.

I was stopped short by a sword swing from an unexpected source.

“You’ll pay for murdering my brother!” the [Son of Dave] shouted.

If my target was going to come to me, I wasn’t one to complain. I batted aside his next attack with an [Earth Strike], then punched him in the face with a fire one. He recoiled, but before I could follow up, the elites interposed.

“Protect the VIP! Get him out of here!” one of them shouted.

No you don’t. I thought. A certain spell was off cooldown. “[Hell Blaze]!” I cast as I pulled out my other wand.

My mana bar drained to half instantly as this room also became a dark inferno.

This time it did erupt into chaos. It turned out that I just needed to target some [Soldiers] who had less discipline.

I didn’t see through the smoke whether I got the [Son of Dave] or not, but I figured it was high time for me to get out of there. I made my way to the exit… the nearest wall.

After breaking through it and stepping out on the street, I thought I was home free. I didn’t account for the watch patrol coming through right then.

I took off running in the opposite direction.

“[Halt]!” came the cry from the patrol as they chased after me.

The skill took hold for a brief moment, but I shook it off and kept running… only to stumble again in just a few more steps.

What the frick? I asked myself as I barely managed to stay on my feet. I immediately put it out of my mind. No answers were immediately forthcoming, and I had a watch patrol to lose.

I pulled my usual trick of sprinting around a T corner only to [Flash Step] backward to the other side and enter [Sneak]. The officers were hot on my tail, and all turned to their right just like they always did.

However, they must have had a true veteran with them.

As soon as he rounded the corner and saw no one, he immediately scanned the area.

“There he is!” he shouted.

Frick. I thought as I took off running.

To make matters worse, I could hear the [Soldiers] in the distance rapidly gaining on me.

I tried to lose them in the back alleys, but that was a terrible decision. I was outnumbered, and they knew the city better than I did.

I quickly found myself at a dead end.

As I turned around to face the incoming men, I couldn’t help but feel how appropriate that term was.

“There’s nowhere to run!” one of them shouted. “Give yourself up!”

Health, a bit more than a quarter. Stamina, almost out. Mana, enough for one last [Hell Blaze]. I thought as I assessed the situation.

“He’s the [Demon Lord]!” a [Soldier] shouted as reinforcements joined the watch patrol. “Take no quarter!”

Think, Titus! I told myself frantically as I flooded the aura with my Demon Lord aura just to buy me some time. I pulled up my status and stopped short.

That will work. But the HP threshold… I can do it.

And the [Hero]? Hundreds of miles away.

The tension faded as I looked over the gathered group of [Soldiers] who wouldn’t nearly be enough to stop me. I can give them one last chance. I thought.

“Gentlemen, there doesn’t need to be any more bloodshed tonight,” I stated. “Simply surrender the [Son of Dave] to me-“

The reception to that was about as poor as you could imagine. Various insults were hurled in my direction, along with shouts about how they would rid the world of me.

I doubled down on my aura as I continued the next part. “Or the [Son of Dave] can simply give up his class,” I stated. “What will it be, [Son of Dave]?” I asked. “Will you give it up, or will you sacrifice this entire town for your petty schemes of revenge?”

“You murdered my brother!” the [Son of Dave] yelled in response. “I’ll never forgive you! I’ll hunt you down until you’re dead!”

I gave a mournful laugh. “A pity.” Then, I pointed accusingly at Dave as I stated gravely. “Then let everyone know this is on your head, [Son of Dave]!”

I slammed my fist into my thigh with an [Earth Strike].

System: Critical HP Detected. Sufficient Level Detected. Demon Lord Form detected. Auto-activating Demon Lord Form.

System: Attempting to activate Deception Form

Time to see what this one does.

System: Deception Form Activated

----

Dave, the second [Son of Dave], watched in horror as the [Demon Lord’s] body lit on fire and began to grow.

A boss health bar appeared titled “Demon Lord of Wrath.”

No. It’s too soon! He’s never activated his form at such a low level before! He was only level 8! Then, Dave grimaced. He realized that a certain pair of fires in the barracks that had nearly killed him may have been responsible for the monster’s leveling.

However, there was no time to dwell on that. The behemoth of flame was going to attack soon.

“Fall back and pepper it from range!” Dave shouted. “These forms have a time limit! You just have to wait it out!”

The [Son of Dave] knew his [Demon Lord] history. There had only been one record of the [Demon Lord] being defeated while in this form, and they had no [Hero] there to sacrifice themselves to achieve it.

“You heard the kid!” one of the [Soldiers] shouted. “Bows out! Kite it as best as you can! Watch officers, sound the evacuation!”

Meanwhile, one of his bodyguards was a bit more blunt. “Your work here’s done. Now just stay back and stay out of our way.”

“But, I can help! I-“

“You’re at less than a quarter HP, and we can’t spare someone to babysit you. Just stay back and let us-“

He was interrupted by a roar as the boss’s health bar finished filling. It pulled a great club out of seemingly nowhere and swung it at the group of [Soldiers].

“Fire!” he shouted.

They loosed their arrows, but the boss, and its health bar, seemed less than phased.

Meanwhile, Dave was not an archer and grudgingly realized it was best not to get in the way of the higher-leveled fighters. That meant he got to watch… and notice that something was very off.

The Demon Lord of Wrath should be stronger than this. He thought as he watched the [Soldiers] kite it around.

Not to say that they did so flawlessly. There was more than one occasion where a [Soldier] was caught by a swing of the great club and sent flying.

However, the amount of damage it was doing seemed… low.

The Demon Lord of Wrath devastated the elven capital singlehandedly. This can’t be right.

The more he thought, the more it unraveled.

The boss forms of the Demon Lord are always accompanied by an extra strong aura, which is why [Heroes] are needed to defeat them. He thought. He looked around at the [Soldiers] who were giving coolheaded commands to each other and bravely facing down the hated foe of Placeholder.

Both of those realizations finally let him see something else.

The [Demon Lord’s] heavy footfalls that practically reverberated throughout the area… had no impact on the streets that they were on. It was as if…

“He isn’t real!” Dave shouted from the backline. No one heard him, so he raised his voice again. “It’s just an-“

His words were stopped short by an impact on his shoulder… and a sword through his gut.

Dave looked down and saw his own blood for the first time.

“It seems you’ve figured out the game,” the [Demon Lord] said from behind him as he clasped a hand over Dave’s mouth. “Well done. Unfortunately, death is your prize.”

Perhaps it was Dave’s imagination, but there seemed to be a hint of sorrow in that last statement.

“Unless…” the [Demon Lord] muttered. “Join me.” He said out of the blue.

Dave was too confused to respond, even if he didn’t have a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Now listen, just hear me out,” the [Demon Lord] said. “You’re doing this to avenge your brother, right?”

Dave gave a slow nod that the [Demon Lord] allowed.

“Then, surely you must know that killing me won’t bring your brother back,” he stated as if he himself hadn’t been the one who did the deed.

Dave’s anger was rising, but he nodded once again.

“But I can bring him back,” the monster said. “I can fix this, all of this!”

He took his hand off to gesture at the scene playing out in front of them, and Dave had his chance.

“Help! The real [Demon Lord’s] over here!” he shouted.

No one paid any attention to him.

“Someone!”

The [Demon Lord] propped the dying Dave up against the wall and shook his head.

“They can’t hear you, I’m afraid. And as far as they can tell, you’re standing right over there.”

He gestured off into the distance, and Dave was stunned to see himself standing there calmly. That lasted only a moment until he realized the illusion, and it faded away.

“Get it over with,” Dave said. “Kill me, just like you did my brother. You monster.”

The monster sighed. “I would really rather not. You see, I would prefer you work with me.” He stated as he knelt next to Dave. “It’s not too late to save both you and your brother. You wouldn’t even have to do much for me, just simply lead the [Hero] astray a bit here and there so that I have time to complete my ritual.”

He gestured back at the fight where the Demon Lord of Wrath illusion had brought down a few of the [Soldiers].

“We could even avoid nights like this entirely.”

Dave knew it was wrong, but there was something that felt… attractive about the offer.

I could see my brother again. He thought. He looked back up at the [Demon Lord].

The [Demon Lord] who had murdered several [Soldiers] this very night.

The [Demon Lord] who would kill him if he didn’t get his way.

The [Demon Lord] who had murdered his brother in the first place, for the simple reason that he was a [Son of Dave].

“Get away from me, deceiver,” Dave said as he spat at the [Demon Lord]. “No matter what your claims are, I want nothing to do with any world you would be in charge of.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The [Demon Lord] wiped the spittle off his face. “Very well,” he said calmly. “Know that this was all your fault.”

Dave laughed. “You won’t trick me with that, either. This is all your fault, and I won’t let you use me as a scapegoat for your conscience.”

The [Demon Lord’s] only reply was a spell. “[Hell Blaze]!” he said.

And then both man and monster paused as nothing happened.

“[Summon Dave]!” the [Demon Lord] once again tried to cast.

“What’s the matter? Performance issues?” Dave taunted.

“It seems that this form doesn’t allow casting of any non-illusion spells,” the [Demon Lord] said. “Odd. Well, forgive me then. This won’t exactly be as quick as I wanted.”

The [Demon Lord] thrust his sword into Dave’s chest… then again… and again.

“You’ll pay for this… monster,” Dave said as he breathed his last.

-------

Killing a man in cold blood was easier the second time around.

Either that or I wasn’t actually in control of my faculties, and the Demon Lord of Deception had just deceived itself into thinking that it was the normal Titus.

My head hurts. I thought as I walked away from the scene of my crime.

Every Demon Lord form was wildly different from any other, but this seemed to take the cake for how unusual it was.

I get an illusion of whichever other form I want. I thought as I looked over at the “Demon Lord of Wrath” still engaging the [Soldiers].

At least, I thought it was. One of the random perks of my class that I still hadn’t quite figured out was complete immunity to illusions, including my own. So, I kinda just had to guess what was going on with the illusion as people randomly ducked for cover or got tossed around.

The Demon Lord illusion can also damage people, so I’ll need to look into that further.

I was half-tempted to copy that spell down, but I knew that just like [Summon Infernal Dire Snail] that it would never be in the realm of something that I could cast when not in Demon Lord form.

Oh well. I thought. I have plenty of other good targets if I want to copy.

Namely, I had also cast an invisibility spell right after my transformation. It broke as soon as I attacked the [Son of Dave], but it was still a prime candidate. Well, that and the one that I used to create a fake image of the [Son of Dave] standing around. Or the one I used to not allow sound in an area to escape.

This must be what spellcasting death magic as a lich feels like. I thought. I was casting everything innately with barely any effort on my part… which was incredibly frustrating. I knew that as soon as my hour was up, I would go back to being normal Titus, and I wouldn’t be able to reproduce any of those spells if I tried. That meant it was time to prioritize whichever spell I thought would be most useful.

Invisibility, probably. I thought. Then I had a lightbulb moment. Unless…

It barely took a second, and soon I was wrapped in an illusion that had me looking like the [Son of Dave].

At least, I think I did. I didn’t have a good way to check.

I pulled out a mirror, but that was also a no-go.

I’ll go ahead and copy this spell down anyway. I thought. Worst-case scenario, I can have someone in the children of flame help me test it.

So, while the [Soldiers] had an epic battle with an illusory [Demon Lord] in the background, I pulled out paper and pen and tried to copy down the spell.

At least, until I got the System notification.

System: You have entered an opposing faction’s zone after midnight. Valid allied or unclaimed zone is adjacent. Beginning monster wave

I had forgotten that I was on a time limit for my mission. And this wasn’t like Fort Faroff. There were no walls and no [Hero] to stop the wave. In addition, most of their [Soldiers] were exhausted from everything I had put them through.

The icing on the cake was that the watch had sounded an evacuation order. That meant there would be casualties if I didn’t intervene. And not just a few.

I put my pen and paper away.

I guess it wouldn’t hurt to save one last city from a monster wave. Besides, that will be a great alibi for my next disguise. I thought with a grin.

------

And so, Filarion Silverleaf, the elven adventurer, was born. That disguise held a special place in my heart, but that might be because it was the first I could make with actual illusion magic instead of just wigs, contacts, and prayers that people wouldn’t look too closely.

There were definitely some close calls, like the fact that Deception form ran out right in the middle of my fight with the wave. Fortunately, I was able to bluff my way out of that by saying that I had a special class that allowed me to buff myself to level 25 temporarily… which was technically true since every Demon Lord form ended up being level 25.

Either way, they were grateful for my help, yadda yadda, and I hastily asked for somewhere to stay so that I wouldn’t be disturbed.

Yeah, I wasn’t quite sure how long my disguise magic would last, and I was stuck in a position where I didn’t actually know how to recast it yet.

That led to a frantic all-nighter, and most of the day-er, where I pieced together the spell that, thankfully, had a much longer duration than I expected.

And that was how I ended up with the 200 mana spell, [Disguise Self].

I was a bit peeved about it because that was a much lower-level illusion spell in most settings, but it turned out that this version was the good stuff. It lasted a full 24 hours, I could make minor changes to the illusion at will, and it automatically handled movement and other changes for me.

In other words, if that had been the only thing that I had gotten out of my use of Deception form, it would have been 100% worth it.

However, that wasn’t the only thing I got out of it. Another [Son of Dave] was dead, and I had terrorized a town to the point where I had a unique opportunity that I would have been remiss not to take advantage of.

With the help of my cult, I circulated single-page fliers from the [Demon Lord] that stated in no uncertain terms that this would be what happened to any city that welcomed a [Son of Dave].

In other words, it was my first step in the propaganda war of making this the fault of the [Hero] and the [Sons of Dave].

And while I had initially planned on making my way north to Jenkins as soon as possible, I decided to linger a bit instead. I stuck around in Gram and grew both the cult and the Syndicate.

And grow they did. They were like a weed… or maybe cancer. In just a few years, there were branches of the Syndicate in every major city. The children of the flame weren’t far behind either. My [Speakers of Flame] had grown to number in the dozens, and I received reports from at least one of them almost daily.

There had been a bit of friction between the two shadowy organizations, though, and I had to establish specific protocols for the two to identify each other so that they wouldn’t end up fighting.

Perhaps the most ironic thing about all of that is that Gram seemed like it was improving from the outside. Reports of crime were down, the newly formed Embers were rapidly growing and spreading goodwill, and there were practically no overt movements from the [Demon Lord].

Well, that last bit was only true for whenever they didn’t send a [Son of Dave] after me. You would think that could only last so long because of how that class worked, but at some point along the way, they must have figured out that adoption counted.

By the time they had them trained up, it didn’t matter nearly as much. The children of flame had started infiltrating the government, so I had eyes and ears almost everywhere.

I was able to intercept them and get rid of them fairly quickly. But that did make me realize that I might need a separate organization underneath the children of flame for assassinations.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t something that could be done quickly. I had to lay the groundwork for that and then try to find the rare combination of [Rogue]-[Cultist] who would be willing to lead it.

… It can be hard to find good help.

In terms of income, I had depleted most of my 2 million gold by putting it in as “investments” and “loans” around then, and I was starting to get worried that I wouldn’t have enough money to buy new equipment.

That was a needless worry. The income was starting to roll in, and when I asked Theo about it, he reported that the “Faroff Thugs” had already repaid their debts with interest.

In other words, after I made a trip around the country to gather my funds, I ran out of excuses.

It was finally time to visit Jenkins.

------

May 25th, 294 AA - Almost 5 years after respawn

I whistled as the city came into view.

“That’s a lot bigger than I expected,” I said as I looked out across the sprawling wallless city.

“I thought you were a world-traveling adventurer, knife-ears,” one of the [Soldiers] I was traveling with chided me. Or at least, he chided Filarion, the elf adventurer. “How have you not been to Jenkins yet?”

I snorted. “Have you felt the ice beneath your feet in the frozen nation of Gert? Have you felt the scorching heat of the Bestian desert or been to the great volcanoes that lie even further beyond that?” I asked in reply. I leaned in. “There are even monstrous snails there. Larger than a house! Not only that, they breathe fire and lava, and they’re-“

The gathered group of [Soldiers] laughed.

One of them patted me on the shoulder. “Alright, I gotta admit. You almost had me there. But snails? Really?” He shook his head. “It was your grandpappy that went up north, too. Wasn’t it? I haven’t heard the name Gert used for the United North in quite some time.”

That got another smattering of laughs at my expense as my disguise was now outed as not quite the world traveler he made himself to be.

I didn’t want to play that character, but I had to stick to the bit. I outwardly sulked, even though I didn’t care that much.

The United North… The UN? My brow almost creased at that, but I kept my face neutral. Wonder how much Gertrude had to do with that. I thought for another moment. Eh, probably not much. She would have probably named it the “United States of Antarctica” or something ridiculous.

When the laughter finished dying down, I continued with a different tact. “Every world traveler has to have their first visit sometime,” I stated. “Gentlemen, I will remember your names when I write my memoirs.” I continued even more grandiosely.

That got even more laughter out of them at my expense.

It was also 100% a lie. I didn’t know a single name of the [Soldiers] I had traveled with. It’s kinda crazy how long you can go without knowing someone’s name.

“You sure we gotta part ways here, long ears?” someone asked. “You aren’t half bad in a fight, and your class is certainly something special.”

That was their assessment of me exclusively fighting with my sword and a bit of magic here and there. I didn’t dare break out the [Martial Arts] due to the curse I had still yet to find a cure for. And I had let on that my class had [Monster Magnet], though I wasn’t stupid enough to call it that.

However, it was time to move on.

I shook my head. “Sorry,” I replied. “I think it’s time to move back to Dryadal after I finish up in Jenkins. This will have to be where we part ways.”

“Well, I, for one, say good riddance!” someone jeered good-naturedly. “I’m ready to sleep through the night without all that cash jumping us every hour!”

Even I laughed along with that one. Soon enough, we reached the edge of the city.

System: Zone entered, Capital City Jenkins. Faction - Jenkins

Then, we said our goodbyes. They gave me my cut of the funds from the monsters we killed along the way, and I waved farewell to them all.

Still strange how an elf can get along with humans so well these days. I thought. Things had changed after Pride died, and I needed to look no further than the city I was standing in.

The first thing that struck me when I entered Jenkins was how… multicultural it felt.

People from all four races wandered around, buying and selling stuff in the streets, and even a few different architectural styles were on display.

Not that the differences between how the races built things were that big. Since I didn’t really care too much about architecture, I couldn’t even have said which was which.

Well, except for the dwarves. Their stuff was smaller.

Okay, stop gawking. I thought. You’re marking yourself as a tourist, and there’s no Syndicate presence here… yet.

That was one of my goals for the trip. What was better than a national crime gang? An international crime gang.

However, that was not my primary purpose. Jenkins attracted all sorts of adventurers, even though there were no zones near it. That meant it was a prime target to finally get some gear upgrades.

I walked down the street with a slight spring in my step and whistled a bit as I went.

I was feeling younger. And that wasn’t just my [Get Into Character] skill or the energy of the new city. My body was aging backward, and there was no greater proof of that than my resource pools which were slowly recovering.

Status.

Status

Name

Titus (Displaying Filarion Silverleaf)

Level

10

Class

Demon Lord (Displaying Wanderer)

Race

Demon Lord (Displaying Elf)

HP

150/150

MP

38/38

SP

150/150

Age

24

If I had still been suffering the full effects of my unfortunate respawn, I would have only had 125 HP, 19 MP, and 75 SP.

If my recovery rate kept up, I would be back to good as new in just a few decades.

First order of business… Find someplace to sleep.

That was as easily said as done. I had an inn room booked in less than an hour and needed to decide what to do next.

I should have probably gone looking at gear immediately, but I heard of an attraction that was unique to Jenkins while I was looking around.

The Hall of [Heroes] and [Demon Lords].

I wasn’t much for sightseeing, but I had to see that.

-------

Edwyrd Adkrana was a [Historian]. He was also an elf, a husband, a father, and many other things, though perhaps his least favorite add-on to that list was “old man.”

But that was beside the point because Edwyrd saw himself first and foremost as a [Historian]… which is why he was the first in recorded history to reach level 10 in that basic class and be granted a unique skill from System.

[Hall of Living Memory]. Or his specific version of the skill [Hall of Living Memory: Heroes and Demon Lords].

He had been allowed to pick a single topic that would be housed there, and he could think of no more important subject to the history of Placeholder as a whole.

And then… it came to life. Living history. Two branches. One to the right and one to the left. One that housed statues of [Heroes] and one that housed statues of [Demon Lords]. Below every statue, a plaque containing their greatest achievements… or their greatest failures. And behind every statue, a mural of their life as a whole.

It was truly a blessing to be granted such a skill, but that wasn’t the end. No, the knowledge that came with the skill told him that as long as a [Historian] lived, so too would the hall. And it would continue to grow so long as there were new [Heroes] to grace it… and new [Demon Lords] to mar it.

Perhaps it is time to retire after all. Thought the aged elf as he sat in his office. I have scoured the ancient texts. I have cross-referenced everything to the best of my ability. I have even sought out oral traditions. He sighed. I have exhausted every avenue of research into [Heroes] and [Demon Lords].

He walked over to the window and looked at the bright, sunny day he was currently not enjoying.

The only thing that could advance my research now would be an untapped primary source.

Little did Edwyrd know that one had walked into his lobby just that afternoon… and was currently causing a scene.

He heard the shouting first, and in a few minutes, that was followed by hesitant knocking at the door.

“Umm, Doctor Adkrana, a guest is causing a fuss in the Hall of [Heroes],” came the voice from beyond the door.

Edwyrd snorted. “Then kick the fool out. Why bother me?”

There was a brief pause. “He says that the plaques are wrong.”

The assistant was nearly hit by the door as Edwyrd stormed out of the office.

As he stomped towards the Hall of [Heroes], he could start to make out what the wretch was shouting.

“I don’t care! I’ll go full Karen!” he shouted as he struggled against two of the [Guards] desperately trying to drag him outside. “Get me the frickin’ manager! Your plaques are frickin’ wrong, and this is a frickin’ travesty! Who’s in charge here!?”

“That would be me,” Edwyrd said with a great deal of irritation. “And what, pray tell, is so wrong with the plaques here? I have double-checked, triple-checked, and cross-verified everything this skill shows.”

“Then how the fricking frick did you get something so wrong?” the other elf shouted back at him. “Jake single-handedly defeated the first [Demon Lord], Titus the Traitor? What the frick was his party then? Chopped liver?”

Edwyrd’s eyes narrowed. “No records have survived that make mention of his party. The only semi-reliable records state that he did so single-handedly, which matches up well with the records about his later life.”

“Great, just a shill who bought into Vir propaganda,” the interloper muttered.

That gave Edwyrd pause. It wouldn’t have if he had said Gram propaganda, but he had said Vir.

That kingdom has been gone long enough to fall out of common knowledge. Edwyrd thought. That was a testament to the poor history education that most residents of Placeholder received, but it did automatically mark the whining brat as someone who had at least a cursory knowledge of history.

“Very well,” the [Historian] said. “Why don’t we have a battle of history? If you defeat me, you can tell me what is wrong with my Hall. If you lose, you will leave and pay the fine for a public disturbance.”

“You’re on!” the elf shouted immediately.

“Very well, I shall start,” Edwyrd stated. “Name all the [Heroes] of Placeholder-“

“Easy-“

“Along with their unique skills,” Edwyrd finished with a grin. “That means their [Hero] skills, as well as any unique skill they were granted for ascending to level 25.”

The intruder hesitated for a moment.

“Jake Smith. [Sunder]. [Omnislash]-“

Fool. [Omnislash] isn’t a unique skill. Just a skill available to-

“But that one might just be a [Swordmaster] or [Warrior] skill,” the intruder beat Edwyrd to the punch.

“Also, [Limit Break]. And… [Grit]. Yeah, [Grit].”

“Go on,” Edwyrd said grudgingly. He had to give the welp full marks for that one.

“Sarah Smith. [Holy], [Limit Break], and… what was that last one? It’s on the tip of my tongue.”

No. He can’t possibly…

“[Radiance]!” he said as he snapped his fingers. “And that should be all for her. Let’s see. Then there was Elluin Hunter. [Calm], [Trueshot], and… [Heroic Sacrifice: Trueshot Finale].”

“Did that man look at any of the plaques aside from Jake’s?” Edwyrd whispered to his assistant. “Or has he been here some other day?”

The assistant whispered back. “No, first he’s been here. And he started throwing a fit after reading about Jake. He didn’t have time to look at the others.”

“Then there was… Oh, shoot. I forgot his name. Beefy-beastborn guy. First one to become a [Heavy Cavalier]. Had a horse named Earthquake.” The surprisingly well-read elf muttered something that sounded like “became a peg uh sus,” but Edwyrd had no idea what that meant.

“Got it! Garrik!” he continued. “And… did he even have a unique skill? Or was it just the fact that he became the first [Heavy Cavalier]?”

There was finally something Edwyrd could ding him on.

“[Inspiration],” Edwyrd said. “You missed that, but that’s all too common since-“

“It wasn’t like he ever called that out loud,” the elf challenged him. “How would anyone know that without asking him directly? And how would anyone ever guess that his speeches he gave were actually to make his skill work?”

Edwyrd faltered a bit. “You are… right. We only learned about that after the fact because of revelation from System. I suppose I won’t dock you for that.”

He nodded. “Good. That would have been a load of BS.”

Edwyrd looked at him expectantly.

The elf looked back.

“Wait, do you want this [Hero] too? Oh, uhh… Samson Stonebreaker. [Fortitude], [Grit], and [Body of Adamantium].”

Edwyrd continued to give the elf a look.

“Did I miss something?” he asked in confusion. “Does the new [Hero] have some special skill I don’t know about?”

Edwyrd coughed. “You forgot perhaps the most important [Hero] of them all.” The elf was still not getting it. “The namesake of this city?”

That was finally enough for the dots to connect.

“Ooohhhhh, I sometimes forget that Jenkins was a [Hero] and not just a [Janitor]. Yeah, no special skills there.”

It turned out, the gathered crowd was not so happy with the namesake of their city being badmouthed.

The elf was pushed outside by a press of a crowd, along with shouts deriding him.

Meanwhile, Edwyrd was nonplussed.

That… is a valid interpretation of the historical record as well.

While the elf was yelling about how it wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to ask a question, he was mercilessly pushed outside by the mob and then told to leave in no uncertain terms.

“Could you go after him?” he asked his assistant. “Tell him I would like to speak with him more… an hour after closing.”

His assistant gave him a confused look, but he shooed her away, and she did as he asked.

That gave the old [Historian] an entire afternoon to speculate.

His manner of speaking… It is reminiscent of the speech of the otherworlders. He thought as he cracked open a text. But… how would one of them become so knowledgeable? Maybe he’s a descendant, and they have family records?

The evening could not come fast enough. And the old [Historian] was waiting by the entrance when the young elf showed back up.

He escorted him to the back and then was presented with a strange request.

“Before I share any of this with you, I’m going to have to ask you to swear an oath to the System not to reveal anything I tell you tonight unless I give you permission,” the stranger said.

Edwyrd thought about that for a moment… but only a moment. He had to know.

He swore the oath and then was in for the surprise of his life.

“Good, now as for how I know all of this-“ the elf stated as suddenly, there was no elf. There was white hair, horns, and red eyes.

“I was there for all of it.”

“Hey! Old man! Snap out of it!”

Edwyrd woke to the [Demon Lord] lightly slapping him in the face.

“You still with the living?” he asked. “I wasn’t sure if chest compressions did anything in this world, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to do them alongside the [Restore] and [Heal].”

“[Restore] and… [Heal]?” Edwyrd asked in confusion. Then he remembered who he was facing. “Stay back, demon!” he shouted. “What do you want with me?”

The [Demon Lord] sighed. “Look, if I wanted you dead, all I had to do was let that heart attack do you in, okay? I just want to talk.”

Edwyrd eyed him suspiciously.

“Talk about what?”

The [Demon Lord] grinned. “Why, history, of course! And you’re a level 10 [Historian].” He leaned in. “Are you telling me you would be willing to pass up a primary source?”

One doesn’t become level 10 in a class without at least a hint of obsession. In other words, the [Demon Lord] had him. Hook, line, and sinker.

What followed after that was a several-hour-long discussion of history from the point of view of the [Demon Lord]. They covered more recent history first and slowly worked their way back towards the subject that had made him so angry to begin with. The [Hero’s] party.

Edwyrd was surprised at the good words he had to say about each party member, and how every single one had been vital to the party’s survival.

That was very at odds with what Edwyrd expected, and he pressed Titus about it.

“Let me put it this way,” the [Demon Lord] replied. “My first life is known as Titus the Traitor… You aren’t known as a traitor because of what you did to your enemies.”

The [Demon Lord] was hard to read. Sometimes he felt young like he was talking to a youngster who had just left home. Other times he felt old, like when he talked about nearly 300 years ago as if it had just been last week.

At no time did he seem as tired as he did when he talked about the party with which he had come to this world.

He harbored genuine affection for them. Edwyrd noted. That was uncomfortable to think about. Because if the enemy of the entire world was capable of feeling, then what did that mean?

All too soon, the interview was over. Not because either of them was keen to be finished, but they had talked through the night, and the Hall of [Heroes] and [Demon Lords] was opening soon.

Titus replaced his disguise, and the two took one last look at the Hall of [Heroes] together.

Something caught his eye.

“Is that?” he asked as he approached Kilroy Jenkin’s statue.

“Do you recognize that device?” Edwyrd asked. “We have no idea what it is. It doesn’t seem to run on magic, and we think it may be broken as the obviously placed buttons have no effect.”

“It’s an iPod, and it’s probably out of charge,” Titus replied. He hesitated. “… Can I?”

Edwyrd frowned. “Is it dangerous?”

Titus shook his head vigorously. “No, no. It’s a recreational device. A music player.”

“… Then I suppose you can look at it. Carefully.”

Titus needed no prompting. He held it as carefully as Edwyrd had held his newborn son.

Then he started muttering to himself.

“Needs charge. [Zap]? But what’s the voltage… or amperage… Need to underchannel if I can…” The [Demon Lord] cast “[Zap]” a few times but seemed unsatisfied with it.

“Maybe if I… Got it! [Trickle Charge]!”

Edwyrd tried to ask what he was doing a few times as the [Demon Lord] held a finger over one of the holes in the device, but Titus just shushed him. Until…

“And… on!”

A few seconds after his pronouncement, Titus removed the connected string from the main rectangular body, and soon sound was blaring out.

It was lively… and chaotic.

“What is that!?” Edwyrd asked over the noise.

Titus made a gesture with his thumb, and the sound lessened.

“It’s jazz.” He stated while facing away from the [Historian]. Then he laughed. “It’s jazz!” He cradled the “music player” as it kept going. “New Orlean’s horrible excuse to play wrong notes. One of the top 5 worst genres above rap, screamo, opera, and country. It lacks any sort of order, symmetry, balance, or repeatability.” He shook his head. “But it still sounds like home.”

Edwyrd watched for a moment. “… I think you should keep it.”

“Really?” Titus asked while still not turning to look at him. “You sure?”

Edwyrd nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid we had to pull it due to the threat of thieves and that it will, unfortunately, be lost in the paperwork shuffle.”

“Thank you,” the [Demon Lord], the enemy of Placeholder, replied while still not looking at him and trying to hide what Edwyrd had already noticed. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Titus left in a hurry after that, but Edwyrd knew exactly what that simple trinket from home had meant to him.

When, in any historical record, have we ever heard of the [Demon Lord] crying?