The Second

“Again.”

The thunk of wood clashing against wood echoed throughout the empty halls of the castle as two warriors stood across from each other, eyeing their opponent’s most precise movements with a close eye. In an instant, the younger of the two rushed towards the other, leaping into the air and bringing her wooden sword down on her opponent’s head with all her strength.

With taking a step and with minimal movement, the old man she was targeting simply raised his sword with a single arm and effortlessly parried her blade. She landed with a stumble, but quickly recovered and attempted to kick his legs out from under him, hoping to find an opening by tripping him, but the older man simply smiled, not budging an inch as her foot connected with his shin.

“A good recovery. Continue.” he ordered, swinging his blade towards her head, forcing her to block with both hands, barely managing to keep her opponent’s sword from ending the fight right there. Her arms stung from the impact, forcing her to leap backwards to take a breath and gather her thoughts. As always, the old man remained in his spot, awaiting her next attempt with the same content smile he always wore.

For some reason, it pissed her off more than usual today. With a frustrated growl, she rushed forward as the old man’s smile quickly shifted to disappointment as he swung his sword directly where she was running. This time, however, she was ready for it. With a burst of strength, she lobbed her sword directly at the old man, whose eyes widened for only a moment before he easily deflected it.

In the moment the old man’s eyes shifted from her to the sword, she had disappeared from his view, appearing directly behind him, preparing a punch with all her strength aimed directly at his face. For a moment, it seemed like the attack was about to connect, but in that instant, the old man side-stepped and easily grabbed her arm and effortlessly forced her to the floor. “And that, I believe, is the match.”

The two remained quiet for a moment before the girl let out an exhausted sigh, and the old man let go of her arm. “Jeez, old man, did you have to swing so hard?”

The older man chuckled as he watched the girl slowly rise to her feet. “If I go too easy on you, you’ll be just as angry, won’t you, Pyra?”

“Course I would! Ain’t no point in trainin’ if you hold back all the time!”

As the girl began to pick up the sword she had thrown earlier, the old man made sure to watch her closely. Her dark hair, once cut short after she had grown frustrated with taking care of it, had begun to grow long again, resembling the day he had found her more and more as it grew. Her dark red skin and yellow eyes resembled her father even more. The demon-kin girl in front of her was undoubtedly the daughter of the man he had briefly considered his greatest rival.

For a moment, his mind drifted back to that battle, taking place in the same castle he was currently standing in.

Twenty years younger, his white hair still in the middle of graying and his lanky figure still somewhat muscular, the man was still far older than most adventurers that ever crossed the Demon Lord’s path. Yet here he was, pushing him farther than any who came before him. The fight had only lasted a mere two minutes before they leaped away from each other in order to take a quick breather. The human across from him kept his hands on his sword and his eyes on him the entire time, ready for battle at the most minute of movements.

The Demon Lord gave a toothy grin, ignoring the blood pouring down from his wound that had taken his eye. He had to admit it; he had not taken the old man seriously enough when he approached him for a fight, and it had instantly cost him his left eye. Yet he didn’t despair over his loss, nor was he angry. No, the only emotion filling the Demon Lord’s heart right now was pure joy.

For the first time in a thousand years, there was finally someone strong enough to challenge him.

“Human. What is your name?”

The human struggled to steady his breath; despite his confidence in his skills, it seemed like his older body lagged behind a bit. “…Ywain Horner.”

“Ywain Horner.” The Demon Lord’s manic grin only widened. “A magnificent name. I, Pyredd Altath, shall remember you for eternity. Take as long as you need. I wish to remember you only at your strongest.”

“That so?” the human let out an exasperated chuckle before taking in a deep breath and clenching his fists around the handle of his sword. Instantly, the air around the man changed.

The Demon Lord began to laugh in amazement, having never seen a mortal come even close to the power of the man before him. As he laughed, his jagged claws became wreathed in pale green flame. “I thank you, Ywain. My long life has finally found purpose.”

The battle between the two men lasted less than three minutes. In that time, the Demon Lord had torn Ywain’s right ear off completely, destroyed his left eye, severed his left arm, and stabbed him six times in the abdomen. Ywain, however, only landed two more attacks.

The first cut the Demon Lord’s right arm clean in two.

The second separated his head from his body.

In the end, despite being covered in wounds and barely alive, Ywain Horner was still standing.

The Demon Lord was dead. The millennium-long war could finally end.

However, as Ywain limped towards the castle’s exit, a soft voice echoed through the halls.

“Daddy?”

Before he even managed to leave the room, a young demon-kin girl had entered the room. Like the Demon Lord, her skin was dark red, her eyes were yellow, and her long, messy dark hair stuck out randomly. Clutched in her hands was a ragged stuffed toy, likely pilfered from a human settlement not long ago. As Ywain contemplated his next move, his remaining hand inching towards his blade, the girl took two steps towards the Demon Lord’s disembodied head, knelt down, and patted it twice.

“Good night, Daddy.”

“You losin’ it, Old Man?” A rough voice shook Ywain from his memories, and his attention shifted back towards the girl before him, now all grown up. “I asked ya if we’re trainin’ tomorrow too? Ain’t it the celebration of you killin’ the Demon Lord?”

Ywain chuckled to himself softly, shaking his head. “I have no need to celebrate another’s death. No matter who they are.”

For a moment, Ywain was sure he witnessed a flicker of a smile crossing Pyra’s face. However, before he knew it, the world froze around him. The wind halted in place, the birds stopped chirping, and Pyra paused mid-turn.

“Still playing house with the daughter of the world’s enemy?”

The voice that echoed in his mind was one that he hadn’t heard in decades, but her remembered it all the same. “Lady Ithys. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The voice lost all regal tone as she scoffed, barely able to hide her disdain. “Don’t talk like that, old man, you’re the only otherworlder still alive that knows who I really am.”

Ywain frowned, tapping his wooden sword against the ground. “Very well. War Goddess Ithys, is there something I can help you with?”

The Goddess’s laughter echoed in his mind, though he did his best to hide his displeasure. “You know the only thing I want, Ywain. War.”

“The world is at peace. What kind of war do you expect to happen?” he carefully glanced towards Pyra for a moment before his eyes returned to the sky.

“Don’t mistake me, Ywain.” Ithys’s voice was deafening in his mind. “I saw a thousand years of the Demon Lord’s war. I have no interest in that pet you’ve been keeping. A repeat would just disappoint me.”

“So?” he urged her to continue.

“A battle of otherworlders! A tournament to crown the strongest hero! Twenty years ago, it likely would have been you, but time has not treated you well, old man. Who knows if you’re still the strongest?”

“What reason would I have to participate in such a farce?”

“Don’t be coy, Ywain. I know what you want. The one thing you’d do anything to achieve!”

For a moment, Ywain was quiet. The Goddess’s words echoed in his mind, gnawing at him relentlessly. After a moment, he raised his sword and slammed the tip into the ground; the force shattering the floor and, against all knowledge of what should be possible, left a large crack in the frozen space itself.

“Shall I consider that an agreement?” As the crack in the frozen space around him started to spread, Ywain sighed. Of course, he knew what she was talking about. He knew far too well what he would ask for. And what the consequences were.

The True Hero, who had slain the Demon Lord who terrorized the world for a millennium, had only one wish.

A wish that would doom the world once more.

“Very well.”