Long ago—so far back that it's now spoken of only in myths and half-forgotten scriptures—there was a war. A war between humans and demons that ravaged the world until nothing was left but ashes and silence.
The sky had burned. The earth had split open. Mountains crumbled, oceans boiled, and the cries of the dying echoed louder than any victory song. It was a war of total annihilation.
And in the end, the leaders of both races—the human sovereign and the demon lord—looked around at what remained, and they knew.
If they continued, there would be no world left to rule.
So, with heavy hearts and blood-stained hands, they chose to end it.
It was the only decision that made sense. No matter who would've emerged victorious, the price would've been too high. There would be no glory, no peace, only rubble.
That's when the deal was made.
And the one who brokered that deal… was the Hero.
He wasn't a king, nor a general. Just a man with enough strength and vision to stand before the demon king—not to slay him, but to speak.
To convince.
To forge peace with the very embodiment of humanity's nightmare.
Thus, the war was silenced.
And for a hundred years, that silence endured.
But peace, as always, is fragile.
Now, in our time, the drums of war beat once more.
The current demon lord has declared a revival of the conflict.
The demons are preparing, sharpening claws and steel for battle.
And the humans?
They're terrified.
Because this time, there is no Hero.
The Hero of old is long gone, and was laid to rest by time itself.
A hundred years have passed since his final act, and being human, his fate was inevitable.
Death came gently, not by sword, but by age.
And now, without him, the humans are lost. Leaderless. Defenseless. Hope begins to flicker out like a candle in the wind.
But then—suddenly and inexplicably—something began to change.
People started awakening to powers they had never known. Powers that belonged only in songs and tales.
One such person was a simple farmer. A man of the land, humble and unassuming. One day, he heard a voice—a divine echo from the sky—and found himself bathed in white, standing in a realm beyond understanding. There, before him, stood a goddess incarnate. Her words were calm but firm. She said that he had been chosen. He now bore the blessing of "Master Swordsman."
When he returned to the world of men, he found himself no longer the man he once was. The sword that once felt foreign now moved like a limb. He was changed.
Awakened.
And he wasn't the only one.
Soon, others followed.
One received the blessing of "Archmage," becoming a master of magic so intricate and powerful that even the elders of old would've been humbled.
Another became a "Paladin," a holy warrior clad in divine protection, shining with light and judgment.
The tide had shifted. The humans now had champions once again.
The war raged, yes—but not like before.
This time, it hung in an uncertain balance.
A stalemate.
And oddly, the quiet between battles felt more peaceful than war had any right to be.
And me?
Well, I'm not the protagonist of this tale.
I'm just lying here, staring at the sky through the swaying branches of an old tree, letting the breeze cool my face.
I'm nobody special.
Just the son of a farmer and a housewife.
My life is as plain as the soil my father tills.
I've got two sisters. And they don't particularly like me.
Not that I can blame them. I don't really like them either. Their mouths are sharper than any sword. They throw words at me like daggers, and naturally, I throw them right back.
We clash daily—verbal battles that leave the house echoing with our shouting until Mom finally snaps and kicks me out. Which is why I'm out here, again.
"Sirius, you're here again. Fought with your sisters, didn't you?"
A familiar voice floated behind me. I didn't even bother turning right away. I sighed instead, letting the weight of her words settle into my chest.
Eventually, I tilted my head up—and there she was.
Alice.
She stood with her hands on her hips, legs spread just wide enough to look imposing, her face scrunched up in disapproval as she peered down at me like I was some stray dog she kept finding in the same spot.
"Hey," I said casually, eyes drifting up, "I can see your panties from this angle. White, huh? Cute choice, Alice."
Her reaction was instant.
She snapped her legs together with a startled squeak, her face lighting up in an angry red flush.
Her eyes shot daggers.
"You pervert!" she shouted, practically hissing.
"Don't go throwing accusations when you're the one flashing them," I muttered, rolling onto my side, one arm under my head. "And by the way, don't make it sound like I picked a fight with both of them. If I really got into it with the two of them together, I'd be dead. Instantly."
That was the truth, plain and bitter.
Even though I was a man, I'd never set my foot firmly on the path of strength.
I never trained, never practiced, never even tried with conviction.
Not because I didn't want to, but because I simply couldn't.
The one time I picked up a sword and tried to swing it, the blade's weight dragged me down instantly. One clumsy motion was all it took for me to lose my footing and crash flat onto the ground, sword clattering beside me in mockery.
I was the very definition of inept.
Not just at swordsmanship, either. It didn't matter what I tried. Everything slipped through my fingers like sand. Farming, trading, carpentry... I sucked at all of them. There was nothing in this world I could proudly say I was good at.
"With your older sister?" Alice asked.
I sighed, turning my face away toward the horizon, letting the golden sunlight brush my cheek.
"Younger," I muttered. "She's been bitching at me all day for just hanging around and doing nothing, and I guess I just snapped. I told her she wasn't doing jack shit either. Then we had that classic showdown... well, you know, the dramatic eye contact and everything." I chuckled dryly. "And surprise, surprise... I'm the one who got booted from the house. Even though she started it. That's justice in our household, huh? Feels kind of rigged, doesn't it?"
"You really are a lost cause, Sirius..." Alice muttered, her tone heavy with disappointment, like she was wondering where exactly I went wrong in life.
I smirked up at her without lifting my head. "Hey, don't blame me too hard. It's not like I chose to be stuck in this backwater village. There's literally nothing for me here. I want to go adventuring. Explore the world. Face monsters. Make a name for myself. You know? If only I had a blessing or something... then maybe, just maybe, I could've joined the Hero in his grand quest to defeat the Demon King."
If I had a blessing... if I had that one tiny miracle, everything would change. I could already imagine it... me, standing side by side with the Hero, slashing down enemies, overcoming deadly trials, being celebrated by kings and kissed by royalty. Maybe even the princess herself would fall for me.
"But Sirius," Alice said, her voice dipping a little, as if she didn't want to remind me, "the Hero's dead."
"Yeah," I scoffed, "sucks to be him, huh? Dude choked on his food and dropped dead. What a way to go."
"Don't joke about that," she said sharply, frowning. "At least he managed to do something meaningful before he died. He was way better than the last guy. That one spent all his time renting prostitutes, remember?"
"Right," I said with a snort. "And then one of the demon generals disguised herself as one of his girls and offed him. Real smooth way to die."
"I just hope the next one's better," she said, her voice softening. "Decent, maybe. Pure-hearted."
I didn't know what to say to that. Honestly, I doubted it. Most people who got the "Hero" blessing turned into arrogant assholes the moment they felt the power surge in their veins. Maybe the goddess wasn't picky, or maybe she just didn't care anymore. Who knows? Made me wonder if the goddess handing out blessings even bothered doing background checks.
The thing was, once you got the Hero blessing, that was your role until death. And when the Hero died, the blessing didn't just vanish. It moved. It found another bearer. The cycle always continued.
Same thing went for the Priestess. Only one Hero, one Priestess, and any blessings—ever. The moment one died, the blessing would search for the next chosen.
Which meant, with the Hero dead... someone new was about to awaken.
"I think it'd be kind of badass if I got it," I said suddenly, a smile creeping across my face. "I mean, think about it—my physical abilities would get boosted like crazy. I wouldn't be the weakling anymore. My sisters wouldn't dare mess with me. And best of all... I'd finally get the hell out of this village. Just imagining it sends a chill down my spine! Hahaha!" I burst out laughing. "That'd be amazing, right, Alice?"
I turned my head to look at her again.
And that's when I saw it.
A light. No.
Radiance.
She was glowing. Glowing so brightly I had to squint and raise my hand to block the glare.
It wasn't warm, like sunlight. It was divine. Ethereal. Something otherworldly was pouring out from her very skin.
"Alice...?"
She blinked slowly, as if she'd just awakened from a dream. Then, without saying a word, she stared down at her own hands. She curled them into fists, then loosened them, testing her grip like she could suddenly feel every drop of power surging through her.
Then her eyes met mine.
"I just... became the Hero," she whispered.
The world felt like it had stopped.
The new Hero had been chosen.
And it was Alice—of all people.