"Huh?" Murphy was stumped, Melrose's words shocking him enough to momentarily consider the possibility.

But reason soon reestablished its reign. Putting aside the irrefutable fact that Raphael had dearly departed this world, his job, panel, and unique skills all pointed to one truth: he was no faux Demon Lord.

"Whew, you nearly scared the life out of me," Murphy gasped with feigned annoyance.

"A bit of levity never hurt," the elder mage retorted with a twinkle in his eye, stroking his beard. "No need for alarm."

"I'd rather not be the butt of such jokes right now," Murphy grumbled. "I wasn't finished, you know."

"Go on then, Lord of Demons."

"As I was saying, one Demon Lord for one Hero. The era of Helrista has ended, so the one on the battlefield must be my destined adversary."

The mention of the bygone era reflected a tinge of sorrow in the old man's eyes, but he continued to listen.

"To sum up, I believe 'Hero Helrista' is truly no more."

At these words, the old wizard's demeanor chilled, and he sent an icy glare Murphy's way.

"Just kidding! No need for fear," Murphy retorted with Melrose's earlier words. "I'm not done yet. 'Hero Helrista' may be gone, but that doesn't mean 'Helrista' is, right?"

Nodding slowly, the elder acknowledged the soul lingering in his pendant testified to that irrefutable fact.

"So, my theory is that the former Hero Helrista 'resigned' from her role through death, because by then, the Demon Lord Raphael had already met his end, leading to no new leaders emerging for either side," Murphy continued.

"Since I've come to this world, the will of the world chose a new Hero."

"Though due to reasons you wish to keep close to the vest, Helrista isn’t entirely gone. However, you should understand that even if you revived her, Helrista would no longer be a Hero. It's very likely she’d come back at level one—you must consider this."

"I’ve thought it through long ago. I don't wish to bring her back for the power..." the mage began to protest.

"Yes, yes, I know, it’s because of your love," Murphy interjected dismissively, spreading his hands in resignation. "Big deal, someone's in love. That's all from me. After our little analysis, it seems I just have one Hero to deal with."

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Having said his piece, Murphy was about to turn and leave when he noticed Melrose shaking his head.

"What's this now? It isn't about love?" Murphy was practically a walking question mark.

Melrose, looking surprised himself, replied, "My head shake wasn't about love. I'm saying your idea of facing just one Hero is rather presumptuous."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"When a powerful life passes, its power returns to the source, did you know that?" the old mage questioned.

"I'm aware, the warrior's strength dissipates, the mage's magic merges back with the source, and a cleric's faith ascends with the soul towards the goddess..." Murphy rattled off fluidly. "Oh, and that last bit, I read in the Holy Scriptures, not that I believe it... But why am I explaining this to a heathen like you?"

Murphy continued to mutter under his breath, but the old wizard spoke undeterred, "When Helrista died, I was by her side, holding her hand, and I felt no power leave her. She simply passed."

"How is that poss..." Murphy's voice hitched abruptly. "Are you suggesting someone took the Hero's power?"

The old mage nodded gravely.

"That's impossible. Both the Hero and Demon Lord have transcended mere life forms. I wouldn't dare use my vital force even to save someone..."

"I do not know the hows and whys," Melrose shook his head. "I pushed my senses to their limit, yet not a trace of Helrista's energy escaped into the air. I didn't understand any of it at the time, so all I could do was use the pendant she'd given me to preserve what was left of her soul."

"Alright, disregarding whether the thief can withstand the power and fate, and whether they'd become the new Hero—if what you say is true, who do you think took it?"

"Heracles."

"Leopold Heracles?" A look of incredulity crossed Murphy’s face, an unexpected yet somehow anticipated twist in this otherworldly tale. Was this world so delightfully O. Henry-esque?

"Krisman Heracles."

"And who might that be?"

"The king two generations ago, the current king’s grandfather."

"Ah," Murphy nodded, filing the name away.

It wasn’t that the Demon Lord was historically challenged; history was just sparsely recorded in this world. He knew the current king, Leopold, and his father Edmund, but detail sparse before then.

Most of Reed Castle's library was dedicated to the many inconsequential deeds of Harry Reed's ancestors, transformed into jerky. Murphy had spent days reading without gleaning much but a rote memorization of the Reed family tree.

"So how did you peg the king for the culprit?"

"Intuition."

"Oh, come on, old man! You've got to base it on something solid," Murphy nearly despaired at the wizard's unreliability, realizing the mage might just outdo him in that department.

"I always felt his gaze upon Helrista was... off."

"You mean..."

"Not lascivious, but more like someone salivating over a hearty meal. I could sense it, his eyes filled with appetite whenever he looked at her," the mage explained with conviction. "After Helrista's death, I never saw that look again. It's like a gourmand who has tasted the finest cuisines; ordinary fare no longer interests them."

Listening to the old mage, Murphy had to admit it sounded plausible. But now he recalled, "He's been dead for over seventy years, though..."

"Yes, Krisman of the Heracles lineage has been gone for that long..." the elder said wistfully as he gazed out the window. "After Helrista, I served and observed him for over a decade. Despite that, he never slipped up, living and dying just as he had before. When he passed, his soul was just embraced by faith and ascended to the heavens..."

So, he died a noble death, and the trail goes cold. Murphy listened to the elder's tale and found himself internally scoffing at the dead ends.