Prologue ~ Another's Perspective

"Give it up, Exgrave! You'll never win!!"

The swordsman clashes his blade against the armored fist of the demon lord, sparks flying like fireworks as me and the others rush into the castle.

"B... Bry-nya, you moron!!" The feline screams out at the swordsman, her typical teasing strained by her genuine fear for his wellbeing.

"Don't do this without us! You'll get yourself killed- n-nyaah!" Her words are cut off as she slams head-first into a magical wall, preventing us from joining in the fight.

"Not good... not good at all!" The elven ranger exclaims, her and the harpy mage quickly speeding through as many incantations as possible in a desperate attempt to break past the barrier.

The demon lord chuckles, seeing our current plight.

"This fight is between me and the boy," they exclaim, "and I shall not allow any interruptions from his companions!"

The swordsman grits his teeth as he charges forward, another blow pushing the two away from each other. After pausing to catch his breath, he lets out a declaration of confidence.

"I'm the hero of this world! I fight for what the people want!"

He rushes in for another blow, attempting to pierce the others' unarmored stomach.

"That, we can agree on;" they retorted with a chuckle. "After all, what good is a hero who does not play by the rules of the system that made him?"

As he approaches, the demon lord kicks away his blade with an nimbleness that betrays any presumptions their heavyset build might give. As they land with their back towards the hero, they swing their lion tail towards his feet in an attempt to trip him up, only for him to leap away with an agility many would deem impossible.

Their body twists around, turning in a swift motion as they swing the back of their hand towards the swordsman. knocking him over before his feet could touch the ground. He mutters something to himself, before getting up.

"Always with those hushed incantations." They smirk. "I'd be curious to ask what it is you always murmur to yourself in these times of stress, but we both know it matters not."

The swordsman runs for his sword, swiftly dodging the demon lord's attempts to grapple him with the same inhuman reaction time as before.

The demon lord snaps their fingers, a burst of eldritch darkness shooting outwards that knocks the sword further away. Yet, despite that, they've stopped pursuing the swordsman.

"Now you're just being a dick." he sticks his tongue out, rushing over for the sword.

Before he can pick it up, however, a burst of magical light shoots up from the ground, sigils revealing themselves underneath as a spell is triggered against him. Yet... no immediately discernable effects.

At least, until he attempts to speak. Nothing comes out.

He tenses up for a moment.

A spell of silence must have been cast on him. Curious; in all of my time adventuring with this group, I've never known him to have the patience to learn spells, let alone cast them. So, why a spell made to prevent casters from using magic? I would hardly expect the demon lord to have little enough patience to bother with trying to shut him up in the middle of a fight, even with his constant desire to run his mouth with snark and wit.

Unless... they know something we don't?

His throat is quickly grabbed by a steel gauntlet, raising him to the air with the demon lord gives him a look of disappointment.

"Keh keh keh... surely this pitiful display is in jest, Brysen." they tighten their grasp, nearly breaking his neck like a twig. "I'd always known you to be a legendary swordfighter- for you to be attempting some incantations to give yourself an unfair advantage fills me with immense disappointment."

They throw him against the barrier, slamming against the side facing us before collapsing to the ground. Despite having the upper hand, however, the demon lord stands there expectantly.

"It would bring me no joy if my victory were to be achieved this easily. Stand up and fight me like the hero you claim to be- I refuse your death to be a dishonorable one."

The swordsman rises to his feet, mien betraying my expectations as his normally happy go lucky demeanor has given way to genuine mortal dread. He looks at us expectantly, defying the image I'd had of him as a confident leader.

"I-it's not working! None of my spells are working!!" The harpy whimpers out, having fully depleted her reserves of mana. "B-big bro... I'm sorry..." She slumps down to the ground, defeated.

The swordsman takes his sword, approaching the demon lord with a slow reluctance not unlike that of a cornered fox unsure of their next move.

"Perhaps you've begun to realize the gravity of the situation." The demon lord taunts. "That for all the talk you make of yourself and your friends, you're nothing but a means of which to maintain the status quo."

They take a fighting stance, gesturing for them to approach. "Are you prepared to face the end of an era, Brysen?"

"Don't just stand there, Eli-nya!! Do something!" The feline slams their claws against my chest in desperation, digging into the fabric of my robes. It feels perverse of me to say, but I find some amusement in how she always turns to me when things go wrong. It's almost cute how she gets when she's nervous.

But now's not the time to think about things like that.

To be honest, though, I'm not sure exactly what she wants me to do here. Perhaps she expects me to break the barrier against my fists? I'm a fistfighter, not a spellcaster.

Though, my mentor did impart upon me the importance of studying conjuration magic; many spellcasters will cover up for their physical weaknesses by means of conjuring up magical armor. I'm remiss to think the demon lord would cast anything basic enough that I would be able to break it, though. Plus, if it were that easy to break, the elven ranger or the harpy mage would have done so with their spells by now.

In all honesty, she's likely just venting her own frustration, irritated either in her own inability to break the barrier or that I'm not as panicked as the others.

Typically, I have no need to worry. He's usually more than capable of pulling himself out of any dire situation, no matter how impossible it may seem. But, I would be lying if I said I wasn't getting concerned as he makes his way towards the demon lord.

I reach for the barrier, attempting to gauge for myself the type of magic that was used to construct it. Let's see... Curiously, it seems to be a surprisingly basic barrier- nothing too special about it. Not befitting of a demon lord at all. Perhaps the others were just too panicked to dispel it? Though, I'm not sure what I can-

...

Cracks begin to form.

And then...

The barrier shatters. Almost as if in reaction to my touch.

What?

How in the world...?

A tightness in my chest forms before I can process this, as a conjured gust of wind blows me and the others away.

"Stay back, you fools! Had I not said already that this fight is between me and--"

A sword pierces the demon lord's chest, cutting them off from finishing the rest of their sentence. The swordsman must've seen the opening and rushed in while they weren't looking.

Gasps of shock and exasperation fill the room in a short burst, before silence takes over.

I don't think anyone was expecting the fight to end so suddenly, or decisively.

At least, that's how it seems.

"Old... friend..."

What? Who was that addressed to?

...

A grin takes over the swordsman's face as he presses his sword deeper into their chest, hands shaking with an overwhelming satisfaction that I could only describe as the result of genuinely not expecting to come out the victor.

For a second, I could've sworn that he twists the blade inside the demon's stomach, but before I can confirm anything kicks them down to the ground, pulling out the sword with the same motion.

"Whew..." the swordsman exhales, ability to speak returning once more. "That was a close call. Thanks for that, Eli." He shoots me a thumbs up.

"I knew you had it in you, Bry-nya~"

The others rush to his side, smothering him in adoration and affection for taking down the villain who once threatened to take over the world.

I, however, sit on the ground in confused silence.

What just happened? I've broken past magical barriers before, but that one gave no resistance whatsoever. And what they said in their final moments...

Something isn't right.

...

They're... looking at me.

The demon lord is looking right at me.

"C'mon, Eli-nya, we're going to 'rora-nya's to celebrate!"

"It shall be my treat, of course. It's the least we can do after being unable to assist Sir Brysen."

...

...

"Hello? Are you okay?" The harpy tugs on my sleeve. My expression must be showing more than I realize, if my companions are showing concern.

I come to my senses as best I can, shaking off the mounting unease.

"Yes... yes, of course. Just... give me a moment, apologies." I dust myself off, rising to my feet. "Go on without me, I just need a moment to myself. To regain my composure." She pats me on the head.

"Pfff, she probably just needs to change her panties after thinking ol' Gravelord was actually gonna kill me- ack!" The swordsman teases, interrupted by the feline elbowing him in the chest. I'll admit; normally this doesn't bother me, but for once, it gets to me.

I pride myself in my gender ambiguity, not caring much of how people refer to me. I've always found it a fascinating test of character to see how people see me at first glance, even. Still, sometimes it feels like he views me as a woman just to hold superiority over me.

Regardless, I ignore his crass humor as I always do, figuring playing along will allow the group to leave for their alcohol-laden celebrations.

And then... it's just me.

Me, and Exgrave.

...

I approach their body with trepidation.