Stepping through blackened dirt and char an elderly figure stepped readily towards a central point only he could find.

He wanted to know if that demonic thing was still there.

His expectations had himself set up to be disappointed but if they were reached, he certainly wouldn’t be happy to see it.

In the man’s mind his parents had done little to form the man he had become. Only the short words from that demon had truly lead him towards this bloody path.

Words and a way.

Words and a weapon.

‘Become a hero,’ If ‘that thing’ truly wanted that, then why give a weapon?

He wanted to ask that if he ever did find it again.

But now that it sat paces away, nearly as intact as the day he received it, he was terrified to even touch it.

Puffing a heavy breath, the man steps forward and laboriously lifts up the simple relic.

“Wake up.” Jiro prompts with a quick surge of incredibly controlled mana. Without waiting a moment for response Jiro continues after a sigh. “I wanted you to be destroyed in the blast like everything else.”

“Wh…”

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“I’m guessing it was all some grand lesson. That’s what I’ve determined after all this time. Lili was my lesson about being friends with lessers. That it could only bring me pain.”

“That’s…”

“I guess to them it was something like an investment though, groom an orphan up to be a pretty little maid and then…”

“Stop.” Aryn mutters with tightening stomach.

“As horrible as that all was, I think you are even more evil. You encouraged me. And you gave me, a child, such a dreadful tool. Something capable of all this death.”

“I…” Aryn again hesitates in his answer. Although it was mere moments ago, he couldn’t help but admit that he was probably too quick to arm the boy with an unknown relic. If he’d simply waited a moment to…

“You wanted me to be the hero.” Jiro reasons simply. “I’ve heard those legends before. Demons and dragons waring with humans. But our world isn’t that black and white y’know. Humans are our opponents, and I may have killed almost as many as I’ve saved, can I still be a hero if half the world thinks I am one of those demons of legend?”

“Th… this period isn’t warring with demons?” Aryn asks with a hint of pitiful hope suddenly overflowing.

“I suppose it’s logical that a magical tool designed to search for ‘a hero’ wouldn’t care about the plight of everyday humans.” Jiro laughs without realizing the depth of the cut he had just made. “I’ve heard there was a war in the wilds far to the south, but the monsters have all been contained by the border tribes for decades. It will probably be a few generations until the tribes completely clear the wild’s, and turn their attention back towards us. I suppose then your job will be done. Maybe you can disappear aswell.”

Aryn slumping his head in the vault breathes deeply to hold his emotions together. So it isn’t over. This is just another cycle.

“Oh right, the real reason I came was to return these. They’re too dangerous for this world.”

Hearing a gasp and a clink in front of him Aryn tilts his head to see the dagger he had given the boy coated in a thick layer of fresh warm blood.

“Now, maybe I am a hero for both sides.” Jiro chuckles as his mana begins to bleed into the hero’s vessel in one final pulse.