A Hero's Village
It had been six years since Victor—formerly known as Anos—had reincarnated and become human.
Six quiet years.
Six years of watching the world through new eyes.
As he grew, pieces slowly fell into place—about his family, this village, and the strange, unfamiliar world he now lived in.
The first thing he learned was about his parents.
His father was the finest hunter in the village, a broad-shouldered man whose bow never missed and whose hands were rough from years in the forest. His mother was a seamstress, gentle and patient, her fingers always busy mending clothes for half the village.
They were ordinary people.
And yet… they were good.
The second thing he learned was about the village itself.
It was called Kanal Village.
According to local legend, it was named after a great hero who had once been born here.
The irony was sharp enough to sting.
Victor—slayer of countless heroes in his former life—had been reborn in a village that worshiped one.
Fate had a twisted sense of humor.
Kanal Village belonged to the Skyfall Kingdom, one of the great human nations. Because of this, the villagers paid taxes to a marquis who ruled over the region.
The man's reputation was infamous.
A cruel noble.
A woman-stealer.
A predator hiding behind noble blood.
It was a small blessing that this marquis had never visited Kanal Village. Being near the edge of his territory had spared them his presence—for now.
Through the village elder's stories, Victor also learned about the wider world.
This was not a single-continent realm like his old world.
This was Nirwana—a vast world divided into seven great continents.
Each was ruled primarily by a dominant race:
The Human Continent.The Elven Continent.The Demon Continent.The Dragon Continent.The Vampire Continent.The Beast-Kin Continent.
And at the center of them all—
The Neutral Continent.
A land where all races lived together under fragile peace.
Victor currently lived in the Human Continent, under the banner of the Skyfall Kingdom.
What surprised him most was that demons in this world were not treated as absolute evil.
They traded.
They negotiated.
They even coexisted with other races.
According to the elder, there had been no great racial war for several hundred years.
The only wars that remained were between kingdoms of the same race.
At present, the Skyfall Kingdom was locked in conflict with the Blackthorn Kingdom.
Not a full-scale war.
Only scattered skirmishes.
Border clashes.
A slow-burning conflict.
This was all the knowledge Victor could gather from a tiny rural village.
It was not much.
But it was enough.
…
Sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, breaking into scattered gold across moss and fallen leaves.
In the heart of the woods, a black-haired boy sat in a lotus position.
Victor.
He was no longer the fragile infant of six years ago.
He had grown into a strikingly handsome child, with sharp, refined features that already hinted at the dangerous beauty he would possess as an adult. His black hair fell smoothly to his shoulders, and when he opened his eyes, golden pupils gleamed with quiet intensity—far too deep for a boy his age.
This forest clearing was his secret training ground.
Here, he circulated mana through his body in silence.
At this moment, he was focused on the fire element.
He already commanded intermediate-level dark magic, but his human body was still too weak to endure advanced spells. Forcing it would only cripple his channels.
So he waited.
Strength would come with time.
Fortunately, magic in this world functioned the same way it had in his past life.
If one attuned themselves to the elements, the elements themselves would guide them.
Fire taught through warmth.
Wind through motion.
Earth through stability.
Water through flow.
They did not speak, yet they communicated through mana itself.
Are elemental spirits a race of their own? Victor often wondered.
The thought lingered—but he never pursued it deeply.
Philosophy would not make him stronger.
After several minutes, he exhaled slowly.
Today was not the day he would break through to intermediate fire magic.
He rose and grabbed a thick fallen branch.
Then he began to swing.
Once.
Twice.
A hundred times.
His movements were clean, efficient, precise—far beyond a normal child's.
This had become his daily routine.
Suddenly, footsteps approached through the underbrush.
Victor did not turn.
There was only one person who ever came here.
"Victor!"
A girl emerged between the trees.
Long blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight like spun gold, and her blue sapphire eyes sparkled with life. Her face was bright and delicate, and though she didn't realize it herself, her gaze always lingered on Victor a moment too long.
Her name was Videl.
She was a year older than him, yet whenever they stood together, it felt as though Victor were the elder.
Kanal Village was small.
Most young adults had left to seek fortune elsewhere.
Including Victor, only five children remained.
One was still a baby.
The last two were twin sisters a year younger than him.
When Videl saw Victor practicing, her lips curved into a cheerful smile.
She picked up a twig and copied his stance.
Her movements were surprisingly accurate.
Firm.
Focused.
Almost uncanny.
She swung exactly as he did.
"Hey Victor, why do you do this every day?" she asked brightly. "Are you trying to be like the heroes in the old man's stories? Oh, that sounds like fun! I bet we'll be awesome heroes when we grow up!"
Victor nearly choked.
A hero?
Him?
What is this girl saying?! his mind thundered. Me—the strongest Demon Lord, slayer of heroes—become one of those justice-obsessed fools? Absolutely not.
He remained silent.
Videl paused, then remembered something.
The last time she had spoken about heroes, Victor had suddenly shouted strange, incomprehensible words and stormed off.
After calming down, he had said he didn't want to be a hero.
He wanted to become something stronger.
She had never forgotten that.
"Hey Victor," she said carefully, "remember the time you said you wanted to become stronger than the hero?"
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yeah, I remember… why?"
They continued swinging as they spoke.
"Well, isn't the hero already the strongest? How can you become stronger than the strongest?"
Victor snorted softly.
"Hmph. The hero is not the strongest. There are many more things stronger than the hero."
Videl stopped swinging and turned to him, eyes shining with conviction.
"But the old man said the hero is the strongest. He can beat anyone and is the champion of the people. Even the king needs to bow down before the hero!"
She spoke with pure admiration, already imagining her future adventures.
Victor's grip tightened around his branch.
"The old man doesn't know everything. There are stronger things than a hero—and I'm going to be one of them."
She blinked.
"Hey Victor, how come you know a bunch of stuff not even the old man knows?"
He stiffened.
"…It's nothing. I was wrong. I just dreamed there was something stronger than a hero."
Videl laughed lightly.
"Heh, sometimes you say weird things, Victor. Of course there can't be anything stronger than a hero. That dream must've been strange."
She smiled brightly, fully convinced.
Her innocence saved him from suspicion.
Thus, in the quiet forest of Kanal Village, the former Demon Emperor continued training—A child beneath the sun, hiding a conqueror's soul.