Chapter 1 - The False Hero

Peace was a term that had always been used for countless centuries, albeit for all the wrong reasons. However, for the first time in the land of Naraka, one could finally say that peace was achieved. Kingdoms stopped waging wars, and bandit and beast encounters alike lessened by an astronomical amount.

Atop the great beast’s head stood an individual. A woman draped in mere peasant’s clothing—a white shirt, slightly baggy pants with pockets, and dangling from her ears were gold spearhead earrings. The spearhead was connected by very small chains that went to the piercing of her ear. She raised her spear high, angling it to the only open spot unobscured by clouds. A voice mighty and deep bellowed across the land, sending waves of harsh wind past fields of green and groves of trees.

“I am Vanya, the woman who slew the great titan!”

In the kingdom, and in a small part of it, the smell of alcohol lured those deep into the tavern. Men cluttered closer together; some were falling off their one inch of room on the long wooden benches used for seats. Wooden jugs clunked, and foam spattered over the tables.

“May I have your attention, everyone!” Heads turned, and voices dimmed. “We have all gathered for one special reason, and I believe you all know why. Thus, I raise my glass to celebrate our first anniversary of world peace. Though he may not be in this tavern… to the man who saved the world, to Van the Great. Cheers!”

A synchronised cheer resounded throughout the tavern. Glasses raised, mouths roared, and chatter continued. However, in the corner of the tavern, a cloaked woman with her uneven hood that rose higher on one side than the other rested uncomfortably on the small stool. The table was far too small, too, allowing for the woman to rest only her forearms. The table behind sang praise to Van the Great, causing the woman to turn slightly.

“Oh, how I admire to be such a glorious man! How I wish to have his majestic half-red crown, and beautiful short-white hair…” the short, chubby man snorted, gazing dreamily at the flickering light.

“It’s Vanya. And I’m a woman, not a man, you idiots,” she said, although it was aired out by the ceaseless gossip.

“I’d rather have the power that he wields! You know, the golden spear as large as the mountains that descended from the stormy clouds!”

In a fit of rage, the woman slammed her fist down. The table fell to pieces, scattering across the wooden floorboards.

“I said it’s Vanya, and I’m a woman. You dimwits!”

Momentary silence ran through every corner. Eventually boisterous cackles replaced that silence.

“Ya realise Van the Great has been proved to be a man by the very king himself!”

“Yeah! Van even had a ceremony for his world-class achievement!”

“Ceremony…?” Vanya muttered. Jugs tossed across the room; some hit her sides while one hit and rebounded off the top of her hood.

“Get out! Don’t sully his name!”

“Oi, you bastards, don’t throw my jugs everywhere!” the tavern owner yelled, throwing one of his own at them.

Vanya slowly squished past, arriving at the exit.

“Damn imposters don’t know when to quit,” one muttered under his breath. The tavern doors swung open, repeatedly squeaking back and forth.

“If only Van would just shut them up… ah, do you think he’s participating in the tournament tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

Her eyes stared at the stars streaking through the vast dark ocean sky. A violent, cold air shrieked past Vanya, tearing her hood off her head. Her appearance was nothing like the description.

Rather than a majestic crown that sat comfortably on her head, a sharp, red horn protruded from the right side of her head. Though she had white hair, it wasn’t short. It was tied up in a bun with bangs and long hair strands falling from the sides of her forehead.

Still no luck… Vanya groaned, frowning as she pinched her nose bridge.

“Damn those losers! I’m the real hero; why won’t they believe me?” Vanya yelled. Crows scattered, flying off the nearby roofs.

Night clicked to day, and bustling streets awakened.

Vanya’s expeditions would wander from morning to the early afternoon; of course, slaying beasts and monsters from villages was the typical norm.

“Ahh! Save me—” a spear fell from the open sky, crushing the beast that held the wailing man. Vanya swiftly jumped over and, as if like a fairy, slowly floated down. Her hand latched onto the spear. A body that sprung ever so swiftly coiled its arm back.

Wind recoiled, being sent away as the spear launched from her arm. It bolted between homes and pierced through each beast in the village until it gently landed back into her fingers. Walking around, she thoroughly checked and grabbed each beast’s corpse, stacking them until the lifeless bodies turned into a tower.

That should be the last—the screams of a young girl reached her ears. Air streaked violently past her skin as she propelled herself through without stopping. Between two houses was a wolven beast. Vanya barrelled forward, tearing it off of the girl lying down. Her body twisted around, slamming and lodging the beast deep into the dirt ground.

Brows furrowed, and eyes slightly widened. In one quick motion, her fist cascaded down, puncturing the beast’s skull and turning it to bloodied mush.

“Ah… ah! D-demon! Stay away, stay away!”

Vanya’s fearful eyes looked ahead; she didn’t turn to face the girl. Instead, her hands fiddled around her head, touching the exposed horn.

My hood… did it drop?

Maybe she was overreacting; perhaps nothing would happen as long as she explained herself calmly. But after many experiences… she knew it wouldn’t work. Plus, if the others came over to see her devilish state, she could already tell the outcome would be devastating. She ran around the corner, flipping her hood back over her head and arrived back at the pile of corpses.

“Wanderer?”

Her head swiftly spun around, watching the small group of people grow larger and larger. Heavy thumps resounded in her ears. She pulled her hood further down, causing her to stare at the myriad of feet in front of her.

“Thank you, kind wanderer.” An old man staggered forward in the crowd, stopping just a meter away. His walking stick shook every so often, and his body trembled every time he spoke. Despite that, his voice carried a strong and endearing tone. “May you remove your hood and tell us your name?”

The rest slowly closed in. Warm smiles and heartfelt sincerity swayed over; Vanya stepped back. The affection shot into her heart, making her smile uncontrollably before frowning. If she didn’t have her hood on, she knew they’d stay far away; abhorrently watching her like she was an irritating fly.

“Vanya,” she said. “I have to go now. I’ll tell the adventurer guild to collect the beast corpses.”

After relaying information at the adventurer guild, she was told to stand by for her reward. A man slid up, resting his back and arms on the counter. He turned his head, following flirtatiously behind his brown, wavy hair.

“So, why are you here, cloaked missy?” he said, deepening his voice slightly. For a few seconds, silence permeated between the two, only for him to break it right after. “Not a talker, ay? That’s no problem, I’ll just, you know, be here doing my small talk with an invisible ghost, I guess.”

Vanya stayed silent throughout his babble about the many different topics he knew. She cared far too little to hone in on any one of them.

“Here.” The receptionist gently placed the sack over, which Vanya snatched. “Ten gold coins total for Vanya, correct?”

Vanya nodded. Without hesitation, the sack swung wide, smacking the man in the face. Despite that, he appeared rather lost in thought, until something appeared to light up in his mind.

“Hey, your name is pretty similar to that of ‘Van the Great.’ Isn’t that crazy? You know he’s participating in a tournament as we speak! You must be pretty happy that—”

In an instant, her hand grasped the neck of the man. A stream of air blew from her nostrils, and crazed eyes gazed fiercely at the man’s bland brown pupils.

“A h-horn? A b-blue eye and a weird-looking red eye? D-d-demon! You’re a—” Vanya abruptly grabbed hold of his neck. Her finger’s grip tightened ever-so-slightly, making the man croak. She tilted her hood further down, trying to hide as much of her face as she could.

“Tournament? Speak, and be quieter, or I won’t just stop with you.” She tossed him away, causing the very few in the building to stare. It was already quite silent save for the conversations here and there, and even though whispers emerged, the silence somehow expanded further.

Just being called a demon didn’t affect her all too much. However, a whole chant to demonise her would affect even the sturdiest of people. The man coughed, rubbing his red neck. Tears welled up and vanished just as swiftly from his hand.

“T-there’s a tournament occurring as we speak in the nearby district… ‘He’ is participating in it. The semi-finals are probably starting right now… Please, that’s all I know; spare my family and I.”

Vanya had met many people. Some were fools, some weak, and others arrogant. Nevertheless, the ones whom she distrusted yet trusted the most were those who’d do anything to save themselves.

“Spread any bad rumours about me, and I’ll torture you till I really do become the demon you say I am, got it?”

The man ferociously nodded, skittering out the door. Vanya stopped the door from closing. She had a new destination, one that prompted her to realise it was best to nip things in the bud, though this may have been much too late already.

Has it already gotten this late? Usually she’d be done before the skies turned a warm orange; in spite of that, the sun had transformed the skies to a more red orange.

Cracks manifested within the tiled concrete floor from the impact of her jump. She soared, ploughing through the air’s breeze. Very few eyes darted up at the floating individual, and even fewer pointed. She didn’t care at that point; she was going to spread the truth sooner or later.

Crashing down at the entrance, dust and debris flew up. Tiles popped out from their designated spots and a crater formed around her feet. Despite the outside of the colosseum being akin to that of a ghost town, the inside brimmed with heated roars. Every other second, the roars would intensify, then slowly die down in the next. Her eyes darted from left to right while adjusting her hood. A heavy sigh of relief escaped as she brushed off any dust that resided on her cloak.

I guess I can just walk in. Eventually, she reached the top of the spectator stands. In the middle, only one stood proud. The other fell to his knees, ending the battle in a victorious cheer for the man raising his spear high. It was clear who the imposter was, with their short, shiny white hair and a half-red crown. Gold practically glittered across his outfit too, alongside his mesmerising golden spear. It was nothing like her ragged, white shirt—stretched in some areas, and dirtied by mud so much that it became more brown than white.

Fortunately, her baggy pants still had some years left in them, courtesy of her father, of course. The man exited into the darkness of the large halls in the walls of the colosseum, continuing to fist the air with every chance he could get.

“How do I get to where that man is right now?” Vanya asked.

The man slowly looked up, raising his brow.

“You’re a fan, ay? To get there you’d have to be a combatant who signed up. You’ll have to wait for an autograph if you really want it, though.”

“I need to get there right now.”

“Okay, okay. Well, I don’t know too much, but you could probably go to the outer side of where he went in and punch through it!” He laughed, slapping the railing in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“Haha, what?”

She dropped out from the arches of the colosseum and sprinted around. After a year, she was finally meeting the imposter who took her title, her heroism, and everything else. The wall crumbled from the force of her fist, and inside the dark room sat the white-haired man.

“Huh? Who the hell are you?”

“You stole my identity.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m saying I’m the one who killed the great titan a year ago.”

His face remained stern and serious. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or whether he believed she was saying the truth. He walked over, spitting into the hole of the hood.

“Yeah, right. Like anyone would believe that crap, from a woman, no less. I’ve had many imposters say the same thing and guess what? They all fell from my power. Even the king gave me a ceremony! Now scram, I don’t have time for an imposter; I have a final to get to.”

Vanya turned her head down. Hidden away by her cloak, her hands clenched tightly. Tightly enough that her body shook.

“Hah. That’s a first. Normally they’d fight me first, then quake in fear. Well anyway, bye bye. I’ll give you an autograph when I win the final.”

Is this right? Why do I get treated like this? Just because of my gender? My race? Vanya’s pupils constricted, her eyebrows furrowed deeper. Her heart drummed faster, drowning out the announcer’s boisterous noise and the cheers from the spectators. A luminescent gleam ignited quietly from her red eye that harboured an x-shape in the centre of the iris.

Her body shot up; a red shine lay in her ascension, following her every move. Sound only escaped seconds later, barely keeping up as multiple bursts of air shockwaves released from Vanya’s speed.

“Let the battle… B-b-begin~!” the announcer slurred.

At that moment, dust exploded across the arena.

“What’s happening? Is it already finished?” The audience's ceaseless muttering only confirmed their suspicions.

“Look at the silhouette! It’s Van! He won…?”

Except… it wasn’t Van. The dust settled; standing atop the unconscious man they called great was a woman. A mighty and deep voice boomed and echoed, reaching the stands on all sides.

“I am Vanya! The woman who slew the great titan and the true hero of this land!”