YEAR XXX: RESET: XX

It was early in the morning, dew accumulating on grass and leaves, and the morning air fresh and crisp. The colorful leaves swayed gently, and the sun accentuated the vibrant colors of the forest. A night and day difference from the bleak, murky, dilapidated, and solem filled slums that I grew up in.

The bumping of the coach tore me away from my insignificant thoughts. I shifted in my seat to alleviate the pain on my lower half. 

Despite how much I’ve traveled over the years, the fatigue, soreness and pain always seem fresh.

I focused on my duties and scanned the forest for any peculiarities. The orcs have been very active in this part of the kingdom as of late. Raping, killing, and marauding.

The image of an orc bursting forth from the forest with a war hammer and crushing my skull  popped into my head. 

My lips curled into a small smile. 

If only things could be that easy…

Being a part of the Hero’s party was an extremely dangerous duty that was a privilege to most, but a nightmare to me. Not because I’m afraid of death. But for other reasons… 

“Village up ahead!” Wilhelm announced suddenly. His dignified, yet old and rugged voice echoing throughout the forest. Matching his elderly and well dressed figure. 

I looked up to see what appeared to be a village, but I can’t really tell because of how far we are away from it. 

Wilhelm’s nickname is eagle eyes, and it seems that his nickname still holds true even in his old age.

As we got closer to the village, I could see a village encircled by a wall with wooden spikes. There was a makeshift tower with a watcher atop scanning the forest. His bow and quiver rested at his side, and his eyes landed on us. I can’t tell what he looks like, but I can feel his sharp gaze from here.

He must be on edge from the orc attacks. 

We arrived at the front gate, and two men stepped in front of the gate leading to the village. They held makeshift spears in each hand, and appeared to be tense. 

Normally, the King would ignore the request of a village such as this. But, orcs being this far into the kingdom makes everyone uncomfortable. Not only that, but the King can also spread his propaganda while we’re at it. 

The word of the hero’s actions will spread far and wide, along with the information that the orcs and the demon lord’s army is inside of the King’s lands. 

With this information being made available the  citizens have been more accepting of the heavy taxes, negligent treatment, and the hero’s horrific actions.  

The promise of pay, food, lodging and the chance to earn land and rank for those that enlist is another way to placate the population. These offers are In reality a death march. Most men who enlist will die, and the rewards they’re promised are few and far inbetween, and that’s if they receive them. 

I doubted the plan initially, but it seems to work like a charm. The people’s desire for a hero trumps all rationale. And to convince them they have been fooled is even more difficult than to fool them. 

“Who goes there?!” The shout of one of the guardsmen caused the carriage to stop. 

Getting a close look at the guardsmen, I can see that they’re armor is made up of shabby worn leather. With obvious traces of battle scarring the material. A stark contrast from the imperial soldiers in the capital. They’re just another poor village struggling to survive. 

Wilhelm held his hand up, a golden crest shining in his palm. 

“It-wha-I…” The guardsmen's eyes nearly popped out of their heads. They were barely able to form any coherent sentences. Just wide eyed with the mouths flopping like fish out of water. 

Wilhelm frowned, but didn’t say anything. He’s used to this kind of treatment now. We all are. The king's crest is one of the most powerful things that one can possess in Atria.

Without a word, Wilhelm and I stepped off of the coach. I moved to the front of the coach to stand guard, while Wilhelm moved the doors to let the Hero and the close members of his party out of the coach.

A gruff looking man with a pitch black beard and hair stepped out of the coach first. He’s dressed in all black armor, with two swords hanging on his waist. His eyes are golden and fierce. But, there’s an amiable smile on his face, a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance. His name is Mark. But we call him legion. Due to his fighting prowess being akin to a small legion of soldiers.

The next person to step off of the coach was a slim pale man with a sharp nose. His black hair is slicked back, and he’s wearing business attire. As if it was another day in the office. But, he has chainmail hidden underneath his clothes, and the clothes he wears is weaved with mana, making them akin to armor all on their own. His light green eyes shined maliciously as he glanced around. His hand never clutching his spear strapped to his back. His name is Galen Maverick. He is the party’s tactician, and a damn good one at that. Even when we are up against overwhelming odds, he remains calm. It’s unnatural.

Then… the man everyone was waiting for finally stepped down from the coach. A blond haired man stepped out of the coach. His blue eyes are sharp and clear, and his jawline perfectly cut. His huge statue is naturally imposing. He’s adorned in gold and white shimmering armor. The smile on his face filled with confidence. Clyburn Magnus. The Hero. 

Once Clyburn stepped off of the coach, the guardsmen gasped. As if they couldn’t believe their eyes. They dropped to their knees, tears streaming down their faces. They bowed their heads like the infatuated loyal dogs that they were. 

“I didn’t.. I didn’t think it was true!” One of the guardsmen screamed. 

“All hail the hero!” The other guardsmen screamed with jubilation. 

I couldn’t help but scoff at their pathetic behavior. 

Idiots.

“Thank you for your kindness, but there is no need.” Clyburn announced as he stepped toward the guardsmen. His voice is friendly and soothing. 

Clyburn placed a hand on the men’s shoulders. “Rise.” 

The men stood just as Clyburn instructed. Like puppets on a string. 

“Yes my lord!” The guardsmen shouted in unison. 

Clyburn nodded his head with an amiable smile on his face. “May I come inside?” 

“Without question my lord!” One of the guardsmen shouted, his voice filled with admiration. 

As the gate was opening, I heard snickering coming from behind me. 

Mark and Galen knew just as much as I did that this was all for show. A show that we’ve seen countless times now, with the same ending each time. 

The old gate finally opened, not surprising because of how old and worn down it is. Far different from the metal gates of the capital. 

We all stepped through through the gate, and we were immediately greeted by a large gray haired man. His face was worn and weathered, but his blue eyes were sharp and clear. He had the look of a man who had seen the many tragedies of life, but still persevered. 

Even though he ensured that his facial expression remained neutral, his eyes were lighting up. “Hello, sir hero’s. I am Garret, this humble village leader. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Garret bowed slightly. It couldn’t be called a proper bow, but it’s much better than most people can do. “I hope your travels have treated you well?” 

“Indeed.” Galen answered as he looked around, his face scrunching up in scrutiny. “Though I do understand the need for pleasantries, I am sure you are already aware of our names and family. The hero and the kingdom have many pressing matters to attend to, so I would like to resolve the current situation as quickly as possible.”

Garret nodded solemnly. “As you know from the letters we have sent, the situation with the or-“ 

Suddenly, an arrow struck the back of Garret's head. It’s pointed head breaking through the skull, stained with his own blood. 

The guardsmen mouths hung agape, and there was an eerie stillness that engulfed the surroundings. No one dared to move an inch. 

Garret's eyes were wide, almost as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

Attached the arrow, I noticed a mana crystal, and I knew what was going to happen next. 

All those years, just to die like this. 

I sighed, regretful that I was not in Garrett's place. 

An orange translucent bubble formed around Clyburn and the rest of the party. I covered my ears in preparation for what was to come. 

“Ahahahah!” Clyburn’s laughter exploded, alarming the nearby villagers. 

*BOOM*

My vision was clouded by a red and black mist. The ground rumbled and I had to fight to keep standing. 

Once the dust settled. I was greeted by an all too familiar sight. 

The guardsmen and Garret were gone. Or rather.. They were scattered everywhere. 

Blood and pieces of flesh littered the ground. Panicked voices echoed everywhere. 

I looked at Clyburn and he had a twisted smile plastered on his face. 

How many times have I seen that smile?  How many times will be I forced to witness it?  

“RaaaAaaaarG!” The orcs' iconic battle cry entered my ears. 

It’s time for battle. Hopefully I will be granted the sweet release of death this time.