Hasn't he done enough already?

Nao stared blankly as the demon before him fell, signaling the end of the battle. In the aftermath, the surrounding town had been destroyed. Areas where houses once stood now held only rubble, and those who were lucky enough to survive were trying to dig their families out from underneath the destruction.

“Save us!” The villagers pleaded. “Help us, please!”

Nao's teeth ground together as he listened to their cries.

Why were they still looking at him? Why was he here?

Even after defeating the Demon King, Nao continued to travel alone. He offered his time and power to whoever needed it, sometimes spending months in a village to repair a single well or to clear the surrounding area of other monsters. He never accepted any compensation for his work except for the villager’s words of gratitude, and he was content with that. All Nao wanted to do was be a source of good in someone else’s life, just like his mother taught him, as she was in his own.

It had been raining when he received news of his mother’s passing. And for the first time since he started his journey, Nao felt lost.

Weeks had passed since her death, and her funeral—his chance at seeing her one last time, was gone. The villagers of the village he had been staying in hid the letter when it arrived, afraid that he would leave in the middle of helping them. Only when he finished, and when someone miraculously remembered the hidden letter, did he finally receive the news.

What was he doing? Why wasn’t he back home? Why didn’t he spend more time with her?

No one answered his questions. He travelled alone after all, and the villagers had no time to spare for a hero meant to help them. Instead, as the announcement of a second Demon King spread throughout the land, the pleas for help pulled him further and further away from his mother. A hero doesn’t mourn—can’t mourn, so Nao was forced to continue his adventure.

What had driven him forward in his adventure prior, the expectations of the people that he would be their savior, now felt like chains around his neck. They clung to him, pitiful and weak, as they cried and demanded his aid. He was the only one who could save them. He was the reason for their death. Any time that he had was theirs, and if he wasn't helping them, he was useless.

He was nothing but a sword, and Nao was so, so tired of being a hero. How great it would be if he could shut his eyes and fall asleep forever. Still, Nor continued to fight. What else could he possibly do? He’d spent his entire life being a hero—dreaming of it, he knew nothing else.

Nao stared at the villagers stuck under the rubble.

Why were they yelling at him again? What was he supposed to be doing?

Ah. The crumpled body of the slayed demon laid before him, body bloodied and mangled. The Demon King. He has to kill the Demon King. Turning away from the villagers calling out to him, Nao left.

Nao entered the throne room of your castle, swaying on his feet and barely coherent.

Demon King. Kill the Demon King.

Drawing his sword, Nao looked at you, gaze hollow before lunging forward.