The Demon Lord lay on the ground, broken and bloody. There was an amused grin on his face as he looked up at the righteousness emanating from the hero's expression.

“Good job, little buddy. You defeated the Demon Lord and saved the world from the apparent destruction I was going to cause. I'm sure the praise and applause will be very worth it.” The Demon Lord says before laughing out loud without a care for his injuries.

The hero maintained his determined expression, on guard for anything else the Demon Lord had up his sleeve. Unfortunately the Demon Lord had nothing else; he had been thoroughly defeated as intended. Which is why he was laughing so freely.

In the end, nothing can be done against god. The Demon Lord thinks with a sigh before his gaze once again finds the hero, and a white flash of rage appeared in his mind, controlled under a furrowed brow and a frown.

“Do you want to hear a story, hero? The story of a dying man and his last words?” The Demon Lord asks.

The Hero said nothing and continued to watch the Demon Lord with a guarded face.

“You should be interested. Because this is also your story. A story of the helpless plight of man and whimsical gods indulging them.” The Demon Lord says, very much wanting to tell this story. If anything was to make his defeat – no, his whole life, worth it, it would be these final words.

The Hero raises an eyebrow. Could there have been a reason he did all this? A reason for his spite and discontent for the gods? The hero wonders, curious if this was not the end of his journey; and whether there was a greater evil to fight.

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The Demon Lord saw that he caught the hero's curiosity and smiled before continuing.

“Apparently, once upon a time, some random, sexually repressed kid found favor with a god. The god gave him an opportunity and this random kid with glee and delight decided he wanted to be a hero. The god asked him why he wanted to be a hero and he said it was to fight evil. The god, knowing full well where this random kid's intentions actually stood, and knowing that this kid had no idea about the implications of anything he was saying, on a whim, decided to indulge him. So that god sent the random kid here.” The Demon Lord says with a mischievous grin.

The hero's eyes widen slightly. His interest was now fully peaked. How did the Demon Lord know this? The hero wonders, waiting for the Demon Lord to continue.

“Unfortunately, there was no great evil to find here. This world was relatively peaceful and most people lived quiet but happy and fruitful lives. There were monsters and the sort, but that was balanced by the adventurers, as most things in the world was balanced. But a hero was coming and the god needed to find a reason for him. So he found me.” The Demon Lord says before letting out another loud laugh.

The hero ignores the evil laugh and continues to wait.

“Also unfortunate, was that I was neither a demon nor anywhere near the level of evil that would require a hero. But the god didn't care; the god went ahead with the plan and diligently raised me to be the Demon Lord that was required. My family died, attacked by bandits. My college girlfriend cucked me for a teacher and god gave me the courtesy of being able to watch. When I made enough money and hoped to settle down, I was attacked by ogres, and god in his infinite wisdom did not let me die and left me hanging on to life, by an unbreakable thin thread. In my poor state all my belongings and wealth was robbed. Slowly but surely, the god built up my anger for the world, leading me to seek power and revenge. Then at my height, when I thought I was going to conquer the world, the god came to me and filled me in on this story, only serving to further destabilize me and fuel my anger. The hero is coming, the god said, and so you came. To solve the problem that god had to create for you, to satisfy whatever gross dreams of heroism you yearned for, that very gross dream driven by the lack of love and sexual activity in your life. You very much wanted to kill, but you forced it to be righteous, so god found me. Congratulations, you stupid, stupid, child. Your dreams came true.” The Demon Lord says, bursting out with a loud laugh filled with schadenfreude.

A similar white hot rage filled the hero and unable to control himself out of sheer shame and embarrassment, he cut the Demon Lord's head off.

Alone in the Demon Lord's palace, the hero took a moment before turning and making the journey to the kingdom, where cheers and celebration would await.