"Me!? Continue the story?" Lumiel staggered back, eyes wide in disbelief. "You want me to fight the Demon King? In your body? That's impossible!"
Alvado's cracked armor glinted faintly under the ripple of dark water beneath them. "You are both right… and wrong," he said, his voice low and tired. "I am not asking you to fight in my body. I want you to fight with your strength."
"But how!?" Lumiel shouted. "You lost—and I'm nowhere near your level!"
Alvado didn't flinch. "I've clung to this world for far too long. Watching. Waiting. Searching for someone who could inherit my will." His form flickered, glowing embers rising from his body like ash scattered by wind. "But none ever came… none, until I found you."
Lumiel blinked. "Me?"
"You're different. The others couldn't hear us, couldn't hold onto the fragments of our souls. But you… weak or strong, we cling to you." Alvado took a step forward, eyes finally softening. "Every century, a new Hero is born, gifted with the same divine blessing. But now, the gods are silent. There is no new Hero. There is only you. So I will give you everything—my memories, my strength, and my Gift. You will be the last Hero."
His body burned away, disintegrating into shimmering dust.
Lumiel was left alone in the void, the black water still, a breeze now flowing through the realm that never had wind. In front of him stood a sword embedded in the water-covered floor—white, radiant, inscribed with runes he couldn't read.
Lumiel took a step forward.
"What is this blade that Alvado left behind…?"
He gripped the hilt and pulled. It slid out like it weighed nothing.
And then—
A pulse.
A warmth surged through his body, his vision clouded with ancient battles and feelings that weren't his own. The cries of war, the strength of purpose, the screams of a dying world—all rushed into him.
Then silence.
Lumiel jolted awake, gasping.
---
He staggered to the mirror. His breath caught. "None," he whispered. "Just my reflection…"
That was strange. The people—Rymir, the man from before—they always showed up after a dream. But this time… no one.
"Alvado didn't come back…" he muttered, touching the mirror. "W-wait, my head—"
A sharp pain. Then images.
Voices. Screams. Swords clashing.
Memories not his, but now part of him.
> The Demon King's face—clear. Sharp. Grinning.
> Alvado's last moment—watching the Demon King's body twist, morphing into something human just as his eyes closed for the final time.
Lumiel fell to his knees, panting.
And then the world snapped back.
He sat on the floor for a long while before finally mustering the strength to grab his phone.
He scrolled through the morning news, trying to distract himself.
But there—on a headline—stood a man's image. Commanding presence. Cold eyes.
"Dragonkin Guildmaster Dilhevy speaks out against rising monster attacks."
Lumiel's blood ran cold.
"That guy…"
He stared at the photo. His hands trembled.
"That's the same face—exactly like the Demon King…"
Suddenly, his skull felt like it was splitting apart. He screamed.
Visions burst forth—Alvado's last fight, the final blow, the Demon King's smile. Then the transformation. The skin shifting. The wings fading. The horns retracting.
And the voice.
> "You think you've won, Alvado? You haven't seen my second act."
Lumiel gasped, gripping the floor. "No… it can't be…"
But he knew.
Dilhevy wasn't just a man. Wasn't just a Guildmaster.
He was the Demon King.
The same monster who killed Alvado. The same being now hiding among humans—gathering power, biding time.
---
Lumiel rose to his feet. His reflection in the mirror no longer looked unsure.
"I've been running from what I am."
He placed a hand over his chest—right where he felt it. A pulse, faint but deep, as though something ancient now lived within him.
The blade wasn't just a weapon anymore.
It was part of him.
Alvado's sword… his legacy… his soul—it had fused with Lumiel's very being.
"I've inherited the will of a Hero."
"I am the Hero."
"And I'll stop him before he destroys everything."