The battlefield was a maelstrom of desperation. Knights with dented armor and bruised bodies fought with grim determination. They had formed a defensive line, a shield wall of steel and faith, but the unending tide of monsters and undead was simply too vast. A corps of mages, their faces pale with exhaustion, cast endless barrages of fireballs and lightning, thinning the approaching wave but never stopping it. Archers, perched on the fortress wall, shot arrows until their fingers were raw and bleeding, the bowstrings stained with their blood, but for every flying monster they felled, a dozen more took its place. The ground was a churned sea of mud, blood, and broken shields. The roars of beasts and the screams of the dying were a symphony of despair.
Amidst the cacophony, a faint, almost imperceptible sound cut through the noise—the quiet click of a blade being sheathed. It was a sound that should have been swallowed by the clamor of a thousand battles, but in that moment, it was louder than any roar, sharper than any clash of armor.
Then, everything changed.
The wave of creatures that had been a moment from overrunning the human forces simply fell apart, all at once. Heads rolled from shoulders and bodies split cleanly in two, a sudden, impossible disintegration of the horde that left the battlefield littered with neatly bisected corpses and dust.
The soldiers collectively stopped their movements, their swords and shields held limp. They stared in silent awe at the shocking scene. Before them lay a field of motionless bodies. The roar of battle had been replaced by a deafening, unnatural silence.
In the center of this carnage stood a lone figure, their silhouette framed by the dust and quiet. A faint light emanated from a pair of magnificent wings behind their back.
A soldier, his voice a disbelieving whisper, finally broke the silence. "It's the Hero..."
The whisper caught fire. "The Hero had saved us!" another shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"He killed them all in an instant!"
"Praise the Hero!"
"Praise the Goddess!"
Cheers began to thunder across the battlefield, growing from a few hushed shouts to a deafening roar that shook the very air. The soldiers dropped their weapons and raised their hands, their faces a mix of tears and delirious joy. Their savior had arrived.
_______________
The fortress's great hall was a stark contrast to the battlefield outside. The air, though still heavy with the distant stench of death, was filled with the low murmurs of exhausted soldiers and the quiet clatter of armor being removed.
Saint Ysoria stood before him, her hands clasped respectfully. "Welcome back, Hero," she said, a serene smile on her face.
Kaito sighed. "You can just call me Kaito. Being called the 'Hero' sounds awkward."
"I must not do so, as it would be most disrespectful," Ysoria insisted, a gentle scolding in her voice. "You're the strongest hero that the Goddess has blessed us with, after all. You've brought us an unparalleled victory today."
"It's true that I'm strong," Kaito admitted with a shrug, "but it's also that these monsters are too weak. At least, compared to the foes I fight against on a nightly basis." He looked out the window at the desolate fields. "Honestly, I feel like a few rows of machine gun turrets and a bunch of bombs could have easily dealt with them. Rather, I feel bad about slaughtering so many of them."
Ysoria's expression turned serious. "You mustn't feel pity for those creatures of darkness, Hero. Their very nature serves as a threat to this world. And forgive my ignorance, but what is this 'machine gun' you spoke of?"
"How would I describe it..." Kaito gestured with his hands. A small ball of pure, compressed light materialized between his fingers, shrinking and brightening until it was a bullet shape. "It's a machine that rapidly fires metal projectiles, like a mage firing this compressed ball of magic, but at a much faster rate. These projectiles possess the ability to pierce through flesh and armor with ease."
A new authoritative and curious voice joined them. "That's an interesting idea, Hero. If you don't mind, I would love to hear more about it."
Ysoria immediately recognized the newcomer. She bowed politely, her silvery robe flowing gracefully. "General Octavia," she said, her voice full of admiration.
General Octavia, a woman in her late thirties with a stern but kind face, rapidly stopped Ysoria's action. "You mustn't bow before me, Saint! If a member of the clergy were to witness this, it would be a huge scandal."
Ysoria's cheeks flushed slightly. "I apologize," she said, her voice now tinged with childlike excitement. "I have always admired your deeds. If you don't mind, could you sign this autograph?" Ysoria quickly pulled a small, pristine postcard and a pen from her inventory.
Octavia took them and signed it with a flourish. Ysoria then cast a small spell over the autograph, her eyes wide with amusement as she quickly put the card away with a light cough.
General Octavia then turned to them both, bowing slightly with a gesture of profound respect. "I owe you two a great debt. Without your timely appearance, our army would have suffered an unrecoverable defeat."
Ysoria immediately deflected the praise. "It was all the Hero's deed, General. I did nothing."
Octavia's gaze lingered on Kaito. "Nevertheless."
_______
A small, functional room in the fortress offered little comfort beyond a flickering lantern that cast a warm, dancing light over its two simple beds and a small table. Kaito sat casually on one bed, while Ysoria sat across from him on the other.
"Where are we going next?" Kaito asked.
Ysoria didn't answer immediately. She pulled out a scroll, and as she unrolled it, a projection of a magic map sprang to life, hovering in the air between them. It showed the entire continent.
"In just a few days, you've managed to put an end to all of the demon invasions around the Kingdom," she said, her voice filled with astonished awe. "I'll admit, I had expected our new hero to require weeks, if not months, of training before entering the fray."
Ysoria pointed to various location on the map. "Our next step would be to free the enslaved cities that are under the command of the Demon King's generals. After that, we'll work our way up to the Demon King's four commanders, before finally confronting the Demon King themself."
Kaito's gaze was fixed on the center of the continent, the Demon King's castle. "I want to go straight to confronting the Demon King, but I know it would be reckless since I don't know their capabilities."
He shifted his weight, looking at Ysoria. "So, let's take on the four commanders first. Which one is the closest to us?"
Here is the next part of the story, written out and enhanced.
Ysoria slid her finger across the magical map hovering between them, tracing an imaginary line through the air. "They're all equally far away from our location."
She traced her finger toward a city by the ocean. "The closest commander, if we consider the most direct route, would be The Shaper of Flesh. He used to be a low-level warlock before obtaining a vile artifact that allows him to manipulate flesh, summon tentacles, and other dark art. He's in control of the continent's largest port city and has been using its citizens to experiment with his power, turning them into grotesque creatures. His forces are the least organized but perhaps the most unpredictable."
Ysoria moved her finger inland, toward a large cathedral. "Next is The Corruptor of Heart. He's a fallen noble who, through some means, likely granted by the Demon King, acquired the power to corrupt others' will. He has taken over the holy land of the Church itself, causing the Pope and all the former clergy to flee to the safety of the Kingdom. Our former Saint, a dear friend of mine, fell to his corruptive power, leaving me to take up her mantle. He poses a unique danger, for his power turns our own people against us."
Her finger then moved to a sprawling city. "Then, there is The Sculptor of Mind. We don't truly know his identity, but it was reported that he's a villager who acquired a strange, brick-shaped artifact capable of hypnotizing anyone who looks at it. He has manipulated the perception and mindset of the entire Empire. He uses women as his playthings and compels the men to wage war for the Demon King against the surrounding forces of humanity. The Empire has the strongest military on the continent, and as they conquer new lands, more and more people are brainwashed to join their ranks. Out of the four commanders, he is by far the most threatening."
Finally, she traced a path to a city nestled in a country surrounded by numerous other borders. "And last, The Severer of Memory. He was a low-ranking adventurer who obtained an artifact that can manipulate time at will. Using it, he has turned the Republic—a neutral entity comprised of countless merchants and the heart of the continent's economy—into his personal playground. No one is able to confront him, as in an instant, they are defeated and toyed with using his time manipulation. Even powerful mages with mastery over time are powerless to deal with him."
Kaito's mind, however, was on something else entirely. 'Time Stop, Tentacles, Hypnosis, Corruption... Isn't this straight out of a hentai?'
He cleared his throat. "By chance, does the Demon King like to steal other people's lovers?"
Ysoria's eyes widened, a look of profound respect washing over her face. "As expected of you, Hero. You've already deduced the Demon King's true nature. In truth, you're not the first hero to be summoned to confront him. Yet, all prior heroes were defeated tragically. It's said that all of the hero's companions defected to the Demon King's forces before even confronting him."
A profound sadness settled on her face. "The Demon King had learned of the Holy Sword's true capability: to empower the Hero through the bonds he forged in his journey. He breaks the heroes' will by destroying their most cherished bonds."
"I see..." Kaito said, his voice flat.
"Despite that, Hero," Ysoria continued, her tone pleading, "do you not wish to claim the Holy Sword as your own? I've brought it with me, but you seem adamant in refusing it."
"It's not mine to claim," Kaito replied simply.
"I know that you already possess a Holy Sword, but against the Demon King, is it not wise to possess even more power to combat against him?"
Kaito looked at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hmm... How about you use the Holy Sword, Ysoria?"
"But the Holy Sword must only be used by the Hero," she protested, a flicker of genuine shock in her eyes.
"Is there some kind of restriction on it?" Kaito asked.
"There is none, but it has been a tradition for only the Hero to wield it."
"Is the world not in a dire time at the moment?" he pressed. "Since I don't need it, as the Saint, you would likely make better use of it than me. Besides, a hero isn't going to appear every single time the world needs one."
Ysoria looked horrified. "What if it were to be lost and fell into enemy hands? It's the only weapon that can defeat the Demon King, and our only hope."
"That's true..." Kaito conceded. He paused for a moment before a new idea struck him. "Does the Goddess not produce this Holy Sword? Why not ask her for more?"
"I'm sure the Goddess has her reasons," Ysoria said, her faith unyielding. "It must be a trial that we must overcome."
Kaito let out a long sigh. "I see... How about this: for the duration of our journey together, you wield the Holy Sword. With me around, I won't let it fall into the Demon King's hands."
A glimmer of hope entered Ysoria's eyes, mixed with hesitation. "Is that... alright?"
"The Holy Sword belongs to the Hero, does it not?" Kaito said with a shrug. "So, it's up to the Hero to do as he likes with it."
"The Holy Sword belongs to the Hero, does it not?" Kaito said with a shrug. "So, it's up to the Hero to do as he likes with it."
"Then... I'll do as you've requested."
Kaito nodded, a finality in his voice. "Let's rest up for the day. I've decided to confront The Sculptor of Mind next. This artifact he wields can only be used through direct sight. I can easily fight without using it."