Seven years ago, the gods chose Matthew Signon as the Hero. With talent, looks, the background of a commoner, he was the image of an ideal Hero. The man who seemed like a character from the tales of legend had been chosen to battle the history's strongest Demon King.
******
Demon King's castle, present.
Three people stood , as mighty as the pillars of a grand monument. They were three of the Four Heavenly Kings, subordinates of the Demon King. Further down the great hall, on a simple throne, the Demon King sat. His deep black eyes reflected the abyss within him.
A man, seemingly a jester, stood next to the Demon King. He was the leader of the Heavenly Kings as well as the personal advisor of the Demon King. He played a flute, the tragic melody floating through the hall. As if to signal his strength, the music spread like a physical force, fluttering the Demon King's jet-black hair.
The music suddenly stopped, only for an explosive boom to take its place. The doors to the throne room were obliterated, revealing the Hero Party. Neither the Demon King nor the jester reacted. The King's gaze stopped the hero party's advance.
"My Lord, hast my prophecy fulfilled thy expectations?" the jester asked in an old accent.
The Demon King rested his head on his knuckle, and nodded in response.
To the Hero Party, he said this, "Great Heroes, you have come far. The journey must have been perilous. In respect for your bravery, I shall battle you as you wish."
Matthew was taken aback. He saw true respect in the eyes of the Demon King. Instead of saying things like "I will let you run" or "I will grant you a painless death", he wished to meet them head-on as per their wish.
Seemingly coming to a conclusion, Matthew met the eyes of everyone in his Party. With a unanimous agreement, they charged as one.
It was a grand moment. The Four Heavenly Kings were moved y the determination of both the Hero and the Demon King.
But then, a dark spot appeared in the beautiful picture. The jester closed his eyes, an amused smile on his lips.
The Demon King froze.
The Hero Party did the same.
But one of them fell.
Matthew drew back his sword, which glistened with crimson blood.
******
The Warrior lay dead, his back pierced by the sacred sword. The Hero calmly looked back at his Party. They stood frozen. The Warrior who would have taken initiative immediately was now dead. The rest of them did not possess the will to persevere in this unlikely situation.
Meanwhile, the Demon King turned his sight to his jester and spoke, "Do you want to see sadness within me so badly, that you would resort to such trickery? What is your intention? Speak, you who call yourself, the Fool."
Matthew's eyes widened as the jester, or Fool's, eyes opened. He grinned, a smile full of pleasure and amusement.
"Thy sadness would have been most welcome. However, I have witnessed the despair of these ignorant youths, who took on the mantle of Hero, not knowing its weight."
He continued, "You see, young ones? The Hero betrayed thee. Alone in a foreign castle, in the midst of enemies and a traitor... ye poor 'fools'. And thee, the Hero. There is not wealth nor power awaiting thee. Truly, satisfaction from despair is but a primitive mindset. It is when thee weaves that tragic tapestry that thee shall find the ultimate pleasure!"
"Now, let's see thee dance. Dance in a-", the Fool was cut off by a wave of sinister darkness.
The Demon King faced him, the powers of his ancestor pushed to the maximum. The Four Heavenly Kings, or three, finally moved, seeing their Lord personally acting.
At the other end of the throne room. Matthew Signon felt rage and helplessness simultaneously. They threatened to tear his mind apart. Wishing for revenge, he turned to call his comrades... but stopped as he saw the resentful eyes.
A battle between the traitor and the abandoned ones began.