〔Current mission: Fight the Demon Lord〕

As I stared blankly at the translucent window floating before my eyes, I couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh. 

‘So it has come down to this…’

-

My name is Stefania. I was born to a family of peasants in a nameless hamlet near the Enchanted Forest, distant enough that the bloodshed of the war between the Republic and the Demon Lord hardly disrupted our everyday peaceful lives. 

Then one tranquil night, I had a strange dream. 

You are the main character of this story, Stefania. 

You are the chosen one. 

You are the Hero of Eltshion. 

It all happened in a flash. The Republic sent their representatives to our doorstep in the middle of the night. Within a matter of minutes, I was forced into a carriage and escorted back to the capital to meet the Elders, the ones who would unilaterally decide on my fate. 

“You have received the Goddess’ blessing, have you not?” 

“B-blessing?” 

“According to our records, it should appear as a crystalline screen with the Word of the Goddess written on it. Why don’t you try summoning it?” 

I did as I was told, and a translucent window really appeared before my astonished eyes. On it, a line of text revealed itself. 

〔Current mission: Accept the position of ‘Hero of Eltshion’〕

-

My mentor, the Republic’s best swordsman and the fiercest beastkin warrior I’d ever known, was a stoic figure of battle-hardened experience and few words. Hence, I’d always remember the last conversation we had at the end of my final lesson. 

“I have nothing else left to teach you, Hero. Tomorrow, I’ll announce my resignation as your mentor and join the war effort as a soldier instead.”

“B-but why put yourself in danger?!” I asked, taken aback. “You have me! I’m the Hero, aren’t I?”

I remember how haunted his eyes looked that night, as if the entire burden of Eltshion’s suffering and strife bore down upon his weary spirit. 

“Hero, I’m not sure if you know this,” he said quietly. “But we must fight with everything we have to save Eltshion. You canʼt do this on your own, not anymore.” 

“What are you talking about all of a sudden…?” 

“Yesterday, we received news that Knoltroz was wiped off from the map by the demons.” 

I froze. Knoltroz, a fortress city with one of the strongest defences in the entire Republic, formed the front lines of the Republic’s forces. It was also where I was supposed to go and meet up with the rest of my party to launch a counter-offensive against the enemy. 

“Only the Hero’s party survived the attack…and it was because the demons spared their lives so that there would be witnesses,” he said, his grip on the hilt of his greatsword tightening until his knuckles turned white. 

“It’s only a matter of time before the Demon Lord arrives here at the capital, Hero.” 

He didn’t say the words out loud, but I could tell what he was thinking at that moment. 

I knew that my mentor had no faith in me to win this war. 

-

Soon, I learnt that the mighty Republic, the self-proclaimed safe haven founded for all four magical and non-magical races to peacefully coexist, was far from the impervious bastion it claimed to be. The Elders, whom I had taken an oath to protect with my own life, turned out to be just as corrupt and treacherous as the evil I was fighting against when faced with their mortality. Even my companions, who had stood by me through thick and thin, who urged me onward even in my darkest hour, lost their remaining resolve and deserted the instant our enemies broke through our last defences. 

“Vaʊnd ði əˈlɑːm!” [Sound the alarms!]

“Eʌn! ðɪs ˈsɪti ɪz ə lɒst kɔːz!” [Run now! Before it’s too late!]

The Republic’s four-striped flag fluttered solemnly above the empty bastille, casting a long shadow over me and the chaos beneath. Behind me, the thundering peals of bells rang out across the capital city—two short chimes, followed by a long, slow toll. A warning that the last stronghold of the Republic was about to fall. 

Cold wind lashed against my face as I ascended the stone steps onto the bastille roof. The guards had already forsaken their posts, their fatigues and weapons strewn unceremoniously across the alure in their hasty escape. To them, there was no reason to stay and fight anymore. The Elders had long fled the continent to save their own selfish skins; the panicking citizens held no faith that a mere human with a sword could protect them from the unstoppable invasion. 

No one would be willing to sacrifice themselves for a lost cause. 

Lost in thought, I walked to the parapet overlooking the valley that stretched beyond the city walls. Where lush green grass and trees once stood, a vicious tide of black now steadily advanced towards the capital, swallowing anything and everything in its path indiscriminately. 

The demons. A magical race who coveted domination over all of Eltshion, who practised black magic and subsequently banished to the edges of the world by the Elders a long time ago. Unlike the other races, they can take on any shape and form as they wish, thus making them extremely hard to detect. Their only known weakness is the sun, which is the reason they have to move around in a cloak of black during the day. However, even in broad daylight, it is nigh impossible to kill a demon unless their core is pierced by silver. 

Raising my eyes to the solitary flag flying above, I then quietly directed my gaze downward. The elongating shadow cast by the flag indicated that the sun would soon dip below the horizon, signalling the approaching darkness. 

‘Less than half an hour left…’ 

The demons wouldn’t be patient enough for that—this miniscule amount of sunlight could hardly weaken the strongest of their army. In a matter of minutes at most, they would emerge from their cover and launch their merciless assault. 

Right after that thought flashed into my mind, I felt a violent tremor shake the ground. The stone floor creaked and groaned. Screams punctuated the air almost immediately. 

“ʃiːz hɪə!” [They’re here!]

“Tðə ˈDemən lɔrd!” [The Demon Lord!]

Then, everything stilled. As if time itself had momentarily paused. 

The wind died, the warning bells cut out, and I felt a chilling presence hanging over me. 

When you are fighting a losing battle, you are always on edge. All of my senses were now screaming at me of the imminent danger behind my back. 

I drew in a sharp breath and spun around on my feet. The tails of my white coat billowed out behind me. My right hand gripped the hilt of the sword around my waist in a fluid motion. 

I immediately locked eyes with the tall female figure leaning against the flagpole, her slender silhouette cast in the fading light. 

The Demon Lord, in all her cold beauty and chilling grace, boldly stood before me with an elegant arrogance. Her regal black dress shimmered in the breeze like silky ripples across a dark moonlit lake. Midnight-black waves of hair framed her rosy face like a dark halo. Icy aquamarine eyes, slitted and full of amusement, observed me thoughtfully.

Even I, for a fleeting moment, found myself ensnared by her disarming charm. Her human guise was truly exquisite, a beauty almost ethereal, as if crafted by the illusions of my deepest desires. Suppressing any hint of tremor in front of her presence, it took all my willpower to resist the allure she emanated.

A smooth voice, as soft and gentle as the twilight glow, echoed in my head. 

You’re the only one defending this city, Hero. 

I nearly choked out a self-deprecating chuckle at her blunt remark. 

So, why? Why are you still standing here, defiantly wielding that piece of scrap metal against me? 

What is there left to fight for? 

It is said that humans and demons descended from a common progenitor in the beginning of time. Humans don’t have an innate affinity for magic, however, hence our ancestors did not follow in the path of demonkind. 

But that does not mean that the other races treated us like their equal. We cannot wield magic naturally unlike the elves; we aren’t anywhere near as strong as the beastkin; we don’t possess the wisdom and foresight of the faeries. And given our likeness to the exiled demon race, it isn’t surprising that we are ostracised and scorned by the rest of Eltshion. 

The scornful faces of the people when they realised a mere human girl was to be their mighty, glorious saviour flashed back before my eyes. 

For an instant, my hand on my hilt relaxed, and I glanced at the four-striped flag frozen on the flagpole. Violet, representing the faeries; blue, the elves; emerald, the beastkin; lastly white, the humans. How many times have I looked up to this flag, despite being forced to bow down to others? How many times have I recited the Republic’s pledge of equality before it, despite my unfair treatment? How many times have I bravely fought for what the flag represents, despite my country’s mistrust and derision?  

Perhaps it is both a blessing and a curse that I am born into this world, that I am chosen by the Goddess, that I am simply too weak to surrender in order to prove myself and my race worthy.

You are the main character of this story, Stefania. 

You are the chosen one. 

‘Is this…really the fate of the main character?’ 

My unspoken question was only answered by the line of words on the translucent window floating before me. 

〔Current mission: Fight the Demon Lord〕

Letting out a wry laugh, I lifted my gaze towards the heavens above, towards where I hoped the Goddess was looking down at me from.

“I’m just faithfully playing the part of the Hero to the end, Demon Lord.” 

A foolish decision, she murmured, but a honourable one indeed. I like your resolve, Hero. 

Then I, Lukterasia, challenge you to a fight to the death.

Lukterasia. The name echoed in my head repeatedly. It sounded strangely familiar, a name that seemed to have crossed the periphery of my consciousness before, like a haunting refrain from a forgotten melody.

Seemingly reading my mind, Lukterasia smiled faintly at me. Then, a black scythe materialised in her hand, and the world around us descended back into chaos. 

-

I had barely unsheathed my sword when she lunged towards me. 

Our blades clashed in an explosion of amber sparks. A brutal shockwave ripped through the air, sending clouds of dust and debris into the air. 

Grunting under the sheer impact, I propelled myself off the crater formed along the alure and executed a swift leap backward. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead as my heart pounded fiercely within my chest, its frenetic beats echoing the panicked tolls of the city bells.

That was close. Too close. 

As expected of the Demon Lord, she was strong—far stronger than any of her generals and underlings I had faced. The slender blade of my sword was no match for her heavy scythe too. Without any support or magic, continuing this fight was nothing more than suicidal. 

Wonderful, my enemy remarked, twirling her scythe with a flourish. As expected, you managed to block my attack without a scratch. 

Against my better judgement, I felt my lips stretch into a reckless grin. Since I had managed to impress the Demon Lord, it wouldn’t be appropriate to back out now, would it? 

Her deep aquamarine eyes lit up with anticipation. 

Shall we dance, my hero? 

The scythe in her hand spun faster and faster until it transformed into a blurred streak of black. I tensed and raised my sword, ready to block her blow and strike the core within her body. 

But her attack never materialised. Instead, she vaulted over the parapet and swung her scythe through the bastille wall effortlessly—as if she was cutting through mere butter. 

Before I could fully grasp the situation, the floor suddenly gave way under me. Sucking in an alarmed breath, I sprinted off the collapsing bastille onto a nearby rooftop, deftly hopping between falling pieces of debris to cushion my descent. 

Moments later, the nauseating smell of burnt flesh hit my nose. Smoke and ash choked the acrid air. Terrified cries for help pierced my eardrums. Rolling to my feet, I stood in stunned silence at the swath of destruction the Demon Lord had carved straight across the city in a single devastating slash. 

Don’t get too distracted when your life is on the line.

My blood froze. She had somehow evaded my keen senses, and only now when she spoke did my mind detect her presence from behind. Acting on pure instinct, I dodged her deadly lunge and swiftly drew my sword in a wide arc around me. 

Another shockwave exploded outwards as my blade connected with the curved chine of her scythe. I barely had any time to recover before she moved in for another low attack. Our blades clashed ferociously, sparks flew, and the deafening sound of steel on steel trembled the earth. 

Good. Very good. 

Delight burned bright in her wild eyes as I readied my sword again. In one swift and graceful motion, she kicked her scythe up into the air, caught it in her hand and spun it around her like a deadly dance.

As always, you are certainly a worthy opponent. 

In the blink of an eye, her scythe became a flowing seamless blur, swinging and slicing towards me with abandon. 

I fought on the razor's edge of reflexes, each move more and more desperate as I parried, dodged, and countered her relentless onslaught. Sparks erupted with every collision, illuminating the chaos that unfolded beneath the dimming sunlight.

With a sudden burst of speed, the Demon Lord closed the distance between us, her lithe form twirling with a breathtaking grace that defied her terrifying bloodlust. 

I ducked and weaved without hesitation, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp edge as I felt the rush of displaced air that followed her attack. 

Undeterred, she spun away with an elegant leap, a dark aura enveloping her raised scythe. The air seemed to congeal with energy, as though the very essence of darkness had coalesced around her blade. 

I registered the attack pattern in alarm just as she unleashed a concentrated blast of magic at me.

In an ear-shattering explosion, the dark magic struck the building upon which I stood a mere fraction of a second ago, imploding the once-sturdy structure into a crater of stone and wood. It took all of my strength just to cling onto my sword as I was blown away by the resulting shockwave and tumbled along an adjacent roof.

Through the billowing smoke and raining debris, the silhouette of the Demon Lord emerged like an ethereal phantom rising from the depths of the destruction she had wrought. Her exquisite figure, adorned in the glorious elegance of her dark regalia, created a stark yet captivating contrast against the ashen sunset.

‘I couldn’t even land a single hit on her…she really is as powerful as the rumours say.’ 

Strangely enough, I didn’t feel the paralysing grip of despair in the pit of my stomach. This emotion…could it be acceptance? Or was it a sense of admiration towards the one who bested me? 

The Demon Lord raised her scythe, its blade poised to unleash another devastating strike. Her midnight-black hair, caught in the gentle breeze of the imminent night, fluttered out behind her.

My grip on my battered sword tightened. 

In a blink of an eye, an ear-splitting metallic clang rang out against the backdrop of destruction around us. 

I let out a suppressed gasp as my blade shattered, sending shards of metal flying in all directions. My hand lost its strength in an instant. The fractured sword clattered loudly on the roof tiles before falling to the ground below. 

I knew, even without looking down at the metal fragment that had pierced through my armour and straight into my left shoulder, that it was over. I had lost. 

And unlike the main characters of the heroic legends, there wasn’t going to be a happy ending for me, or for Eltshion. 

The last of the sun’s rays shone on the capital, bathing us and the surrounding destruction in an ethereal aureate glow. The warning bells had fallen silent sometime during our battle. In the midst of the smoke and fires ravaging the streets, the demons had already begun their unstoppable onslaught. By the next break of dawn, the Republic would cease to exist, and the demons would finally dominate Eltshion in its entirety.

Ah…in the end, it doesn’t really matter if I’d won or lost. After all, I was just following the word of the Goddess this whole time. And this accursed window that’s been nagging at me since the start…

〔Anomaly detected〕

〔Mission ⟪Fight the Demon Lord⟫ has ended in failure〕

A sudden wave of nausea slammed into me, causing my vision to swim and my knees to buckle under me. I was dizzy and breathless all of a sudden. Blood pooled on the tiles around my feet, glinting scarlet in the waning sun.

‘Looks like I can’t hold on for much longer…’

Squeezing my eyes shut in agony, I thought of my childhood home and my parents. The quaint hamlet where we lived our serene days peacefully, waiting for the seasons to change to harvest our fields. The magical forest beyond the fields, where I played with wild faeries until the sun set. 

Then, I thought of the day the Elders came to our hamlet and took me away to the capital. The day I was proclaimed to be the Hero who would save Eltshion from the demons. The day when I first met my companions. Our long and intensive training and sparring sessions. The hot meals and joyful laughter that we shared over the common table…

It was all going so well, so how did everything go wrong so quickly? 

I’m sorry.

The icy aquamarine gaze that met mine held a warmth that I did not anticipate. My eyes widened in astonishment, mirroring the disbelief that reverberated through my being.

—what the hell is she doing? 

“Lu…Lukterasia…” I struggled to get the words out of my trembling lips as I shot her a pleading look. “W-why haven’t you…killed me?” 

The Goddess told you that you are the main character of this story, am I right? 

I stiffened. 

Do you know? That semi-transparent screen you’ve been seeing is no blessing, Stefania, she said, approaching me slowly. It’s merely the plot dictating your actions so that you won’t act out of character. And everyone inside this world, including you, are all characters in this story. 

With that said, a story with a Hero as its protagonist naturally requires a Villain as the antagonist to be complete. Therefore, the Demon Lord has to be slain by the Hero, the demon army must be defeated and Eltshion shall be saved at the end of the day. 

Closing the distance between us, Lukterasia reached her hand out towards me. I instinctively braced myself for the final blow to seal my fate—

In the end, you are just a puppet forced to act to the whims of the Goddess. 

The air caught in my throat as her fingers delicately cupped my face.

But I’m different, she whispered into my ear. I’m not from this world, you see. I can alter the plot. I can put a stop to this farce. And I’ve taken quite a liking to you, Stefania, so I want to change your fate. I want you to be free. 

I met her determined gaze with a painful start. “W-what are you talking about?! Th-this…you’re crazy!” 

Maybe I am. Lukterasia giggled. Only a crazy person will fall into love with their predestined killer.

“?!” 

Swallowing my embarrassment, I hastily looked away and stumbled over my next words. “C-can you really…really change my fate?” 

If you want me to, of course.

“S…since I’m already fated to die here…” I took in a shaky breath as my feet gave out on me. “If you can change it…I…I’ll leave it to you…”

Just as my eyes closed shut for the last time, a new text popped up on my window. 

〔You died〕

-

Lukterasia, I didn’t quite understand most of what you said back then…but looking back, that was probably the moment when my entire life was completely flipped upside down by you. 

And thenceforth, the story of the reincarnated me and the returned you was born.