What Makes a Hero

The wind carried screams.

They were not war cries, nor military orders. They were chaotic screams, broken by fear. The kind of sound that only exists when someone is running without knowing whether they’ll reach somewhere safe.

—They’re coming from the forest!—There are too many!—Close the gates!

Kaito stood atop a low hill, watching the dirt road that led straight to the village. From there he could see them: an irregular horde of monsters advancing without formation, snarling, shoving one another.

Goblins armed with rusted blades.Lupine beasts with long fangs.Amorphous creatures with skin hardened like dried mud.

They weren’t high level. But there were many of them.

—My first mission… —he murmured.

There was no army. No reinforcements. Just him.

Kaito took a deep breath and extended his hand.

Magic answered.

The air immediately grew damp. Tiny droplets began to form around him, suspended as if the world had decided to ignore gravity for a moment. The droplets trembled, stretched… and sharpened.

—Basic formation —he whispered.

The droplets elongated until they became arrows of water, translucent, with edges so fine they reflected the sunlight. One, two, ten… fifty.

With his other hand, Kaito shaped the water flowing from the ground and the air, compressing it until it formed a liquid bow, taut, vibrating, as if it might shatter at any instant.

He nocked an arrow.

The sky responded.

Dozens of identical arrows appeared above the horde, floating, aimed downward like a restrained rainfall.

—Fire.

The sound was sharp, almost elegant.

The arrows descended all at once.

They pierced flesh, bone, and makeshift armor with surgical precision. The first monsters fell without even understanding what had happened. Those behind them stumbled over the bodies, throwing the formation into even greater disarray.

The ones who survived tried to charge.

A bad idea.

Kaito stepped forward and twisted his wrist.

The water from the ground surged upward like a sudden tide, forming liquid chains that wrapped around the beasts’ legs, immobilizing them. Another gesture, and the chains hardened, cutting off circulation.

—It’s not personal —he said, drawing the bow tight—. But I’m not letting you reach the village.

One last arrow.

This time, it didn’t fall from the sky.

It tore through the leaders of the horde, exploding into a burst of pressure that sent the remaining monsters flying. When the dust settled, the road was covered in bodies… and silence.

Kaito lowered the bow. The water dispersed, returning to the world as if it had never been altered.

He was panting.

But he was smiling.

—It worked… —he said, incredulous—. It really worked.

The coffee steamed softly.

The light of dawn filtered through the window, dyeing the small table in golden hues. Outside, the world was waking calmly: birds, distant footsteps, the murmur of a city that still didn’t know it had been saved.

Kaito held the cup with both hands.

—That feels so far away now… —he thought.

The memory faded with the steam.

—They say they’ve already summoned another one.

—Really? So soon?

—Exactly five years. Like always.

The town was livelier than usual. Merchants talking loudly, children running between stalls, rumors traveling faster than any messenger.

—They say this one is strong.—Stronger than the last.—Good. We can’t allow another disaster.

She walked among them without stopping.

Light armor, polished until it shone. A sword at her side, sheathed, yet carrying an aura that made people instinctively step aside. Her light hair waved in the wind as her eyes scanned the town… without truly seeing it.

Aira listened.

—The new hero isn’t afraid.—They say he wants to head straight into battle.—That’s what the world needs, right?

Her fingers tightened slightly around the glove of her sword hand.

—No… —she thought—. That’s not it.

She turned toward the castle.

—Training? What for?

The new hero lounged in a chair, boots on the table, arms crossed. His smile was confident, almost mocking.

—I’ve got more than enough power. Can’t you feel it? —he said—. Why waste time when I can go straight to the dungeons and level up?

The instructors exchanged uneasy looks.

The king sighed.

—Power without control is dangerous —he said—. But…

He looked at Aira.

—Go with him. Protect him. Make sure he comes back alive.

She knelt.

—As you command.

But something inside her tightened.


The dungeon was simple at first.

Minor monsters. Narrow corridors. Obvious traps.

The hero advanced carelessly, throwing out sloppy attacks, trusting in his absurd endurance. Aira cleaned up what he left behind, efficient, silent.

When they reached the depths, the air changed.

A large monster emerged from the shadows. Thick hide, multiple arms, exposed core.

The hero attacked.

He missed.

He tried again.

Missed again.

His technique was nonexistent. His power… wasted.

The monster counterattacked.

Aira didn’t hesitate.

A single movement.A clean thrust.The core shattered.

Silence.

—See? —the hero said, laughing nervously—. Everything under control.

Aira didn’t answer.

They continued to the boss room.

There, he only dodged.

He couldn’t get close.He didn’t know how.He didn’t understand the rhythm of battle.

Aira watched him.

And felt something cold.

—He’s nothing like him… —she thought, drawing her sword.

The sun was high when Kaito finished watering the vegetables.

The damp soil gleamed. The world continued on its course.

—I suppose they’ve already entered a dungeon —he said, wiping his hands—. I just hope… it’s not too late.

He looked toward the horizon.

And went back to work.