The Unlikely Hero’s Fated Victory

The Demon Lord was dead.

The Hero had slain them.

This outcome, a predestined fate, unfolded precisely as foretold by prophecy.

Yet, in the beginning, no one had held much hope for that unruly, troublesome Hero.

Upon her arrival in this other world, the Hero sported peculiar attire and wielded an odd weapon. She was widely dismissed as an ill-mannered young upstart, her slouching, lackadaisical demeanor hardly seeming befitting of a Hero.

Even the King himself considered the summoning ritual a dismal failure. Yet, with immense pressure mounting from the front lines and the lengthy preparation required for another Hero summoning, they decided, rather than let the effort go to waste, to send her forth on her quest as the Hero regardless.

Since she was deemed a defective Hero, the companions assigned to her were, predictably, riddled with their own myriad issues.

A warrior with a fearsome reputation but utterly lacking in real combat experience.

A priest adept at swindling and deceiving, who inexplicably wore plate armor.

A court mage whose expertise lay solely in everyday utility spells.

And a ranger whose presence was so faint they were perpetually forgotten.

It was this deeply flawed Hero’s party, nonetheless, that marched towards the Demon Lord’s castle, carrying the hopes of humanity.

Perhaps, they truly weren’t destined to save the world.

A mere half a year after departing from the royal capital, the troublesome Hero’s companions had successively fallen in battles against the Demon Lord’s Four Heavenly Kings.

As tragic news arrived from the front lines, neither the demon race nor humanity held the Hero in any regard. No one believed that a Hero who had barely survived through the sacrifice of her comrades could possibly vanquish the Demon Lord.

Yet, the course of this story quietly began to reverse thereafter.

The Hero, having infiltrated the demon territories alone, transformed into a phantom, active by night and hidden by day. Employing the guerrilla tactics she had brought from Earth, she pressed on towards the Demon Lord’s castle, a lone figure.

Had it not been for the occasional assassinations of high-ranking Demon Lord’s army officials, no one would have suspected that the troublesome Hero had survived.

Not only was she alive, but she was also growing stronger.

She had even become a living nightmare for the Demon Lord’s army, robbing countless demons of their sleep.

Another half-year passed in this manner. When she appeared before the Demon Lord’s castle, adorned with mementos of her comrades, and smashed open the castle gates with her “Holy Sword,” no one dared to underestimate her power any longer.

Even the Demon Lord’s Four Heavenly Kings, for the first time ever, chose to unite and jointly resist the Hero…

But it was all in vain.

****

The Throne Hall of the Demon Lord’s Castle.

The air still clung to the scent of blood and demonic energy. The ceiling had long since vanished, the marble floor was shattered, and stained-glass fragments from the windows lay strewn across the ground, leaving the entire hall reduced to ruins.

The fierce-eyed, blonde-haired girl stumbled and collapsed onto the steps before the throne. Her tracksuit was torn and ragged, and the metal baseball bat clutched in her hand bore several new dents and deformities.

Clearly, the Hero’s victory had not come easily.

The fallen Demon Lord was also a woman. Her long, dark purple hair fanned out across the floor, streaks of crimson staining its strands, and the layered, curved horns that had once adorned her head were now broken in half, their former majesty gone.

She wore a heavy, ritualistic robe; while not armor, its intricate runic enchantments had granted it fortress-like defensive capabilities. Of course, these too had now been utterly destroyed by the Hero.

The decisive battle had concluded, and the victor was clear.

Just as the Hero stood pondering her next move, a cough emanated from the Demon Queen’s body.

“Cough, cough… Is this truly fate?”

The Demon Lord, whom she had presumed dead, still seemed to be breathing.

“Tch, couldn’t you just die properly?”

The Hero, clicking her tongue, leveraged her “Holy Sword”—the very same metal baseball bat—to push herself back to her feet.

The Holy Sword scraped against the ground, emitting a harsh, grating sound.

“…You won’t die unless your heart is destroyed by the Holy Sword, right?”

During her time lurking in the demon territories, the Hero had heard various rumors about the Demon Lord, such as the one claiming they could only be killed by piercing their heart with a Holy Sword. This, too, was part of the prophecy.

“Looks like that wasn’t just a rumor, then?”

That was why the prophecy stated only the Hero could slay the Demon Lord.

No one else besides the Hero possessed a Holy Sword.

The Hero walked over to the Demon Lord’s side. Though still unable to move, she had recovered enough to speak.

“Hero, everything we have done was orchestrated… That goddess simply stands outside the stage, wantonly weaving the fates of others… Don’t you wish to change any of this?”

The Demon Lord’s awareness of the goddess’s existence came as a slight surprise to the Hero.

“Huh? My language arts grades were terrible, so I don’t understand any of that, nor do I want to hear it. I only know one thing: once I finish you off here, I can go home.”

The crudely-speaking girl hoisted her baseball bat high, holy light coiling around its tip, forming a rotating, drill-like aura.

Even at the precipice of death, the Demon Lord chose to speak of such an abstract prophecy.

“Do you truly believe that finishing me off will end all this? Hero, she won’t let you go so easily. You are merely a puppet, suspended by the threads of fate; if you cannot break free, another prophecy will be waiting for you.”

“Manipulation of fate? Ah, perhaps?”

The Hero tore off her red scarf and wrapped it around both the baseball bat and her tightly gripping hand.

“But I have more than one reason to take your life!”

The baseball bat of vengeance plunged through the Demon Lord’s heart, tearing open a bowl-sized wound; by any measure, it inflicted far more severe damage than a typical Holy Sword would have.

Yet, the outcome remained unchanged…

As hot blood sprayed, the Demon Queen finally perished.

Holy light, soaring skyward, dispelled the gloom that had shrouded the Demon Lord’s castle, making even the structure below appear a shade brighter. But for the demon race, who had lost their ruler, what could this possibly mean?

The Hero did not care.

“Hey! Goddess! It’s about time you sent me back, isn’t it?!”

She craned her neck and bellowed, adding:

“And put my Holy Sword back!”

“…Hmph, do you really dislike this form so much?”

A slightly affected female voice, accompanied by a soft light cast down from the sky, resonated.

She seemed somewhat regretful, but nonetheless promised, “As per our agreement, I will restore it.”

This was the goddess the Demon Lord had spoken of, the one who had summoned the Hero from Earth.

“…Hmph, good then!”

“Do you have any other requests? As a reward for completing your mission, I will grant them to the best of my ability.”

The Hero hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Can I take these things back with me?”

She gestured to the tattered scarf wrapped around her hand, the gauntlet adorning her right wrist, the jeweled hair clip pinning back a fringe of her hair, and the old leather gloves she wore on both hands.

These pieces of equipment clashed sharply with her sky-blue tracksuit.

Yet, these were her comrades’ mementos… No, more accurately, they were their relics.

The Hero was a person of deep loyalty and sentiment.

Even after vanquishing the Demon Lord and returning to Earth, she couldn’t let go of the bond forged over less than a year, a bond that had transcended the very boundaries of life and death.

“Hmph, truly worthy of being the Hero I chose.”

“While, in principle, you cannot take anything from this world with you, I shall make an exception this one time.”

The young Hero breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright, I don’t have any other demands.”

With these words, the girl turned her head, wanting one last look at this other world she would never return to…

She also cast a glance at the Demon Lord’s corpse.

The wind, blowing from afar, ruffled her blonde hair. She turned, stepping resolutely into the soft light of her return journey, and just like that, she vanished from the ruined Throne Hall, leaving behind only the Demon Lord’s soulless body.

Her soul…

Where had the Demon Lord’s soul gone?