In a desolate battlefield, a lone human faced off against the terrible Demon King Malachi. In his left hand was a halberd and in his right was a falchion. He was not a knight wielding the armaments of the Holy Goddess, nor a legendary mage capable of god-like powers, but simply a skilled warrior fighting with well-crafted weapons.

The Demon King fought his opponent dumbfoundedly. This human was nowhere as strong or fast as him, but the Demon King could not press for victory anyhow. It was as if the human not only knew his every movement but also knew of the best way to avoid and counter him at each turn.

Malachi found himself tempted to simply blow away the whole battlefield along with his opponent, but he decided against it. For the first time since the war started, he lost himself in the thrill of battle. Ending it in such a way was not an option. It was as if he and his opponent were engaged in a dance of blades, a performance out of appreciation for the other, a battle devoid of hatred. It was completely different from the nature of the war he led — a war of emotions, vengeance, and loathing.

The human thought likewise, a toothy grin permanently fixed on his face as the weapons in his hand waltzed with the Demon King’s Shamshir.

“Hahaha! Demon King, you sure do make for a damned good opponent!”

***

“Are you Paladin Arnulf?”

Harold’s left — no, rather — Arnulf’s left eye stared at me, an expression of a stormy mixture of anger, surprise, and sorrow on his face. He took deep breaths as he took the time to find a response to my question.

“How? How would you know that, brat?” He pointed his sword at me, genuine hostility present in his stance, his arm trembling in anger — or fear? I wasn’t sure.

“The Paladin Arnulf, an Uralten Weaponmaster, proficient in every single weapon that exists under the sun. A sword saint with skills that could only come from talent, hard work, and endless experience all together,” I said. “And a mystic eye that grants him the ability to see the flow of mana. You certainly tick off a lot of boxes, don’t you, old man?”

“So how the hell does it matter if I do?” Arnulf touched his covered right eye with the tip of his fingers of his left hand.

“You certainly grew bitter, old man,” I said. “I suppose it’s only fair I share my secret now that I exposed yours. Take off your eye covering and use your mystic eye on me.”

Arnulf slowly unwrapped the fold over his head, revealing his right eye, glowing a bluish hue. As the pupil of his right eye focused on me, his expression turned darker.

“Do you recognize it, Arnulf?”

“…”

“Arnulf?”

“…HAHAHAHA! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Suddenly, in a blur of movements, I found his sword mere inches away from my head. Quickly unsheathing my sword, I deflected in just in time.

“WHAT KIND OF FUCKING JOKE IS THIS?!” he continued screaming.

I positioned my sword in front of me to deflect another slash from him, adrenaline pumping through my body, my movements fueled solely by instinct.

“WHY?! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” he howled.

Though he had lost his composure completely, the movements of his sword were anything but sloppy. I found myself relying on every single trick, every single insight I learned from his training just to avoid getting killed.

“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU DEVIL!”

I found myself flabbergasted. I didn’t know his hatred for me ran this deeply. What the hell happened these past three centuries?

Deciding that the fight was getting too dangerous, I resorted to using magic to subdue him.

Spell Fusion:

“[Flood] + [Freeze]”

The ground was flooded with water, in waves radiating from me, knocking the enraged Arnulf off his feet, before suddenly freezing into ice, covering the area around us with a foot high layer of ice.

“[Ice Growth]”

Before he could break away from the ice, more ice grew around him, crawling upwards, trapping him in a large crystal of ice, leaving only his head and neck exposed to the air.

As if cooled off by the ice I conjured, his anger had abated, leaving only a defeated expression on his face. I was completely confused by his behavior; what was going on with him?

“Arnulf, I am not your enemy.” I walked up to him, but he remained looking down, unable to meet my eyes.

“…How long have you known I was Arnulf?”

"I've been suspecting it for a few weeks now.”

“…What does the reincarnation of the Demon King want to do with me? Why are you here?”

“I am not here for anything special,” I responded, with a difficult smile on my face. “When I met you in the forest, I really did just want to train under you for a bit.”

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“…You don’t want revenge?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“So why did you react like that?”

After a few moments of silence, the old man stopped looking down and faced me.

“Is that really not why you’re here? You’re not here to take vengeance?”

I melted the ice in the area by dissipating heat through fire magic, gathered all the melted ice into a large water ball, and threw it up into the air to disperse, raining down water droplets on the forests surrounding us.

Arnulf fell down to the ground and I stepped forward to offer him a hand up. Right now, he didn’t look like a supposed master of blades, but only a battered, weary old man.

“Nope! Getting vengeance against the enemies of my previous life is not exactly at the top of my priority list,” I said. “Besides, I don’t think I have the right to do that. But, why, really, why did you react like that? Did you fear I’d seek revenge against you specifically?”

“I thought you knew…” the old man muttered under his breath.

“Hmm, knew what?”

“So you did die in that battle along with Roland and Julian. You never found out what happened after?”

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew I was about to hear something I would never want to hear.

“Tell me, please. What happened?”

Arnulf looked at me with remorseful eyes as he recounted his memories.

***

“Honorable members of the Senate! Please rethink this decision!” The Paladin Orson, a youthful man with brown hair and dressed in a mage’s robes, pleaded to the assembly before him. Behind him stood the three other remaining Paladins: Renaud, Arnulf, and Yvette. And behind the assembly of senators, the Voralten Emperor sat on an elevated throne, remaining passive to the scene before him.

“You would trust a demon’s words, Sir Orson?” a gray-haired, bearded senator from the assembly responded to the Paladin. “The peace they offer is but a sweet lie! Live up to your name as the Sage and stop this foolishness.”

“And you would forgive them for their atrocities? For mercilessly killing Sir Roland and Sir Julian? Do not forget what we are dealing with here, Sir Orson. They are unholy monsters, a blight on the world!” A bald senator joined in rebuking Orson.

“Have we not suffered enough? There is no point in dragging out this war!” Orson responded.

“And what, you would let the demons remain in the former lands of the Norlaenders? That’s exactly what they want. It is the same as admitting defeat to them,” the bearded senator responded.

Paladin Yvette stepped forward beside Orson.

“Honorable senators, it is not a lie,” the elf said. “I can confirm that the Demon General Tareh truly intends to bring an end to our war. He only desires peace, with no hidden intentions behind it.”

“Lady Yvette, Sir Orson, we hear your words, but you must open your eyes. The demons are our enemies! Do not forget the will of the Holy Goddess,” the bald senator responded once more.

Orson looked with troubled eyes at the other senators of the assembly, intending to convince the others less opposed to him.

“Please, honorable senators, if you can find it in your hearts, consider the option of peace,” he said. “Think on the countless dead, the children without their fathers, the families split apart. We can finally move on to rebuilding our great empire once more, to give a chance for our people to live in peace.”

The senators murmured and whispered amongst themselves.

“Honorable senators, consider this as well,” Yvette joined in. “Our empire stands at a precarious position and this war has drained us of our resources. It has made us weak, and if our enemies get the opportunity, it may threaten to shatter the very empire itself. We are no longer strong enough to keep fighting this war.”

“You dare besmirch our empire?!”

“Do not forget your position, Lady Yvette!”

“Retract your words!”

Various senators jeered at the elf’s words. The emperor on his throne remained silent.

“O, senators, forgive the naively idealistic words of my two companions,” a sly-faced man stepped up to speak. It was Paladin Renaud, a tall and wiry man with braided hair. “I am of the same opinion as Senator Lucius and Senator Phocas, this war must go on until we achieve our desired victory.” He made eye contact with the two senators who were especially outspoken against Orson and Yvette.

“Renaud, what do y—” Orson whispered before being interrupted.

“Though, they have done great work for our empire. They have laid the foundations for our victory in this war!” Renaud proclaimed.

“…Would you care to elaborate, Sir Renaud?” the bearded Senator Lucius asked.

“Some of the demons’ leaders have expressed the desire for peace and these two have made contact with these leaders. So, under the guise of seeking peace, we shall invite the demons and their army into a feast, a meeting of armistice. But, we shall use that as an opportunity to strike when they are at their most vulnerable — to cull their numbers, especially their most precious demon mages. The war will continue from there, leading to our guaranteed victory.”

Silence dominated the assembly room for a few moments until the senators started speaking heatedly amongst themselves, excited by Renaud’s plan.

“As expected of the Fox! What a cunning plan, indeed,” Senator Lucius said.

“Renaud, how could you?!” Orson opposed, horrified by his companion’s plan. Renaud did nothing in response but shrug his shoulders and shake his head, a smug smirk on his face. “I use my privilege to oppose this!”

“I evoke my privilege as well! This plan seeks to tempt fate. It can only turn against us.” Yvette joined Orson in his opposition.

“Well, senators, I guess I’ll use my privilege to support my own plan and prevent these two’s oppositions,” Renaud responded.

All eyes then turned to a tall, rugged man with long hair. It was the remaining Paladin, Arnulf, the Weaponmaster. Realizing they were seeking his input, he stepped forward to speak.

“Uh, I’ll use my privilege to support Renaud’s plan as well.” The Weaponmaster had no great worldly ambitions like Renaud nor noble intentions like Orson and Yvette. He was simply a man who found great joy in battle. Unlike the others, he found no misery in the Great War that had been raging for years now. To him, continuing the war was but a natural course, so he had no reason to refuse Renaud’s plan.

The conversations between the senators grew louder and louder.

“As there is no majority decision among the Paladins, the decision shall be deferred to the Senate. It shall be discussed and decided further,” Senator Lucius said. “Sir Renaud, please aid us in discussing the framework for this plan of yours.”

“…Roland and Julian would have been against this…” Orson looked down at the ground with his fists clenched. Yvette stared at Renaud with hateful eyes.

And the Weaponmaster simply stood aside, as he watched the companionship between his friends collapse. As he became compliant with the decisions of the Senate. As he and Renaud agreed to take part in the massacre that would then place, a brutal killing of demons who thought they had finally found peace.

***

“…And on the day of the feast, the demons were helpless, massacred without resistance. The remaining divine mages formerly under Julian’s leadership had cast the most potent divine magic they were capable of, severely weakening the demons. They were powerless as I cut them down. For the first time in my life, the blood I saw spilled on my hands horrified me,” Arnulf recounted as he knelt before me. “I cut them down. I ended their lives with no remorse. I didn’t know… it was going… to be like that… Why… Why did I agree…”

I watched silently, processing everything he was telling me. Flares of anger and despair had arisen in me, but one emotion dominated and repressed the other emotions I felt.

Pity.

Pity for the broken man before me. Someone who carried his sins with him for 300 years and yet continued to live, all while watching the consequences of his mistake unfold before him.

While I had dipped into the ocean of despair, he had sunken deep into its depths, never to rise up to the surface again.