The hero leaves the black fortress behind as Azrael makes his way back to the kingdom's capital city Dusclar

He had defeated the demon lord yet again to receive the king's gratitude reward from him

He didn't particularly care for the honors—they were just a formality to him which is a hollow gesture that held little meaning for him but he wanted some reward for his new life as a farmer. His money easily ran out with buying weapons and stat boost items.

When he approached the grand castle the sun had set a golden glow over the city. The people of Duscar cheered his arrival as their hero returned victorious once more.

But Azrael felt nothing. He felt it as empty as the battles he fought. All he wanted was to be left alone and to live a simple life.

The castle doors swung open and Azrael was led to the grand dining hall, where the king and his court awaited him.

The room was filled with the finest foods and wines, that made the hero hungry. The king was a man of regal bearing, who rose from his throne to greet the hero.

"Azrael, our savior!" the king declared, raising a goblet in his honor.

"Once more, you have saved our kingdom from the clutches of the demon lord. Your bravery and strength are unmatched; we are eternally grateful."

Azrael never understood what the king meant by 'we'. The king always speaks in 'we' instead of 'I' as if he did everything. While the hero has to did every dirty work.

Azrael stood before the king, his expression neutral. The praise meant little to him, but he nodded out of courtesy. "It was nothing," he replied flatly, his eyes scanning the room. "Just doing what was expected."

The king's smile widened, though something was unsettling to hero—Azrael didn't care as he simply didn't think anyone would beat him in combat. "Indeed, you have done more than anyone could ever ask for, Azrael. But tonight, we celebrate your victory. Please, join us in a feast to honor your triumph." The king requested him

Azrael hesitated for a moment, but the thought of good food and a brief respite from his duties was too tempting to pass up. He took a seat at the long table, surrounded by nobles and knights who toasted to his name. Servants brought out platters of roasted meats, fresh fruits, and fine wines. It was a lavish spread, the kind of feast fit for a hero.

"Thanks for the food " The hero replied as he went to eat the food quickly. The hero really liked the food he had. Whenever he was at the castle the king provided a complete meal for hero. The cooks were really perfect.

The real reason Azrael wanted to be a farmer was because he wanted to eat the food he grew up as he realized from farmers that the food you produce on your own is really delicious and tasty

"Finally some delicious taste" The hero Azrael replied as he bite the cabbage along with rice balls, mixing food to combine the taste is joyful for him.

As the meal progressed, the king engaged Azrael in conversation, his tone light and friendly.

They spoke of the battle, of the kingdom's future, and of the many times Azrael had saved them all.

The king raised his goblet once more, this time with a more personal touch. "Azrael, you have served this kingdom tirelessly. I believe it is time we offer you something more than just our thanks. A token of our appreciation, if you will."

Azrael raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. "And what might that be?"

The king smiled, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Freshly picked up delicious royal mixed fruit juice, my dear hero. One that I have personally chosen for you—a blend of the finest fruits and herbs from our royal garden. It is said to bring great vitality and strength to those who drink it."

A servant approached with a silver goblet filled with a deep crimson liquid. Azrael took the goblet, eyeing it. The smell was good and it looked tasty.

The king watched him closely, with a smile on his face.

"Go on, Azrael," the king urged. "You've earned this."

Azrael has calmed himself down, he had poison immunity and maybe he is being paranoid and the king is trying to be friendly but he was awkward. Nothing can harm Azrael so he took a slight sip whether it was tasty or not

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Azrael hesitated for only a moment before bringing the goblet to his lips. The drink was surprisingly sweet, with a rich, fruity flavor that brought him joy. It was refreshing, and for a brief moment, Azrael allowed himself to enjoy it as he drank all of it.

"Can I have some more? " Azrael asked and the king complied but the king seemed surprised a bit. Azrael drank the juice for the second time

But then, as the last drop slid down his throat, a strange sensation began to spread through his body. His vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overtook him. Azrael's hand tightened around the goblet as he realized something was very wrong. He didn't felt anything until the last drop and it suddenly activated.

Why didn't he feel anything earlier? Why his body didn't let him know?

He looked up at the king, his eyes narrowing at him. "What... have you done?"

The king's smile twisted into something cruel and malevolent. "Oh, Azrael, you've served your purpose well until now, but the kingdom no longer needs a hero. We need stability, and control and you stand in our way."

"Nonsense, You are the only on- " The her-. No, azrael tried to smack him.

Azrael's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to rise from his seat, but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. The strength that had once flowed through him like an unstoppable river was now drained, leaving him weak and vulnerable.

The king stood, his voice full of smile. "You've defeated the demon lord time and time again, but it is I who shall defeat you. That drink you just consumed? It's a special concoction, designed to strip you of your power—to reduce you to nothing."

"You won't even feel what's wrong until the last second, and it will not allow you to gain any level......In other words, you are finished level one " The king mocked him as he rose from his seat with a wicked grin on his face.

Azrael's eyes widened in shock and fury. He tried to speak, to demand answers, but his voice failed him.

His body was betraying him, succumbing to the effects of the potion. He could feel the power that had defined him for so long slipping away, leaving him as weak as any ordinary man. No it was even worse.

Azrael removed his weighted armour and his boots, that are painfully heavy. And he tried to get up

The king laughed at seeing Azrael miserable state as the king's laughter echoed through the hall, a sound filled with winning malice. "You see, Azrael, heroes are dangerous. They inspire rebellion, they give people hope—hope that one day they might rise above their station. As a king of the holy kingdom of Oswald, we can't have that. Without power, you're just a man, easily disposed of."

The other nobles and knights watched in silence, their expressions ranging from shock to satisfaction. They had known, or perhaps they had suspected, but none dared to speak out against the king.

At that moment, a girl stepped forward she was genuinely surprised. She had always admired Azrael as ally to the kingdom, seeing his honor and courage. To witness her father betray him in such a way was a blow she hadn't expected. Her image of hope shattered

"Father, how could you?" Elara's voice was filled with anger and sorrow. "Azrael has done nothing but protect us! He's saved this kingdom more times than I can count!"

The king turned to her, his expression hardening. "Elara, you are young and naive. You don't understand the weight of ruling a kingdom. Azrael is a threat to our stability—his very existence undermines my authority. This was a necessary action."

"But... to betray him like this?" Elara's voice trembled with emotion. "It's wrong!"

The king waved her off dismissively. "You'll understand one day when you sit on this throne. Until then, hold your tongue."

Azrael, struggling to stay conscious, his eyes filled with both regret and gratitude. " If o...only"

"If....o..only. I haven't....saved you from the cyclops " Azrael face was filled with regret that he shouldn't have given them the privilege of protection.

"It was......my fault......I should've chosen to be a farmer" The hero said as he tried to balance his legs.

"I shouldn't have worried......about....the kingdom.....and the p-people. " He gathered all his will power to stand straight.

He had no strength left to fight, no way to defend himself. He was at the mercy of the king. But the hero still peristed. He is living on pure will alone.

As if on cue, one of the king's guards—a burly man with a cruel sneer—stepped forward. He was , a man who took pleasure in his role as the king's enforcer.

The guard grabbed Azrael by the collar, hauling him to his feet with ease. "So, this is the great Azrael," the guard sneered.

"Doesn't look like much now, does he?"

Azrael tried to throw a punch, but his movements were sluggish, his strength all but gone. The guard laughed, easily catching the feeble attempt and twisting Azrael's arm behind his back with a painful jerk.

"Is that a punch? My seven-year-old daughter hits harder than that!" the guard mocked, his laughter ringing in Azrael's ears. With a single, brutal motion, he drove his fist into Azrael's gut, knocking the wind out of him. Azrael crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

"I have.....been careless........I will defy you to the end " Azrael said as he stood up. Azrael knows he will killed but he wants to defy the king to the end. He has nothing left for him.

The guard stood over him, shaking his head in mock pity. "Looks like the mighty hero's days are over. You're nothing now, Azrael. Just a washed-up fool who didn't know when to quit."

Azrael's vision blurred as pain wracked his body.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA, you are not even worth killing"

"I wonder should I use only my pinky finger to defeat him "

"Father please! Stop this. "

He could hear the king's laughter, the cold amusement in the guard's voice, and Elara's desperate pleas for mercy. But there was nothing he could do. The strength that had once made him a legend was gone, stolen by the very people he had sworn to protect.

Azrael curses and his complaints were meaningless. Everything is meaningless without power or strength. Everything is meaningless in the castle.

As consciousness slipped away, Azrael's last thought was a bitter realization: he had been defeated for the first time, not by the demon lord or some dark force, but by the very kingdom he had fought so hard to save.