Shotaro: journey of a hero that kept moving forward

"There was once a hero." All have heard that phrase at least once in their lives. Whispered by old men before firelight. Carved into stone beneath crumbled towers. Inscribed on the last pages of dying books. But more often than not, it was just a prelude— a sentence used to dress up myths, to clothe legends in something that sounded like truth. "There was once a hero who defeated the Demon King." "There was once a hero who slew the last of the skyborn dragons." .......... "There was once a hero who was thrown into the abyss... and kept climbing out of it." "There was once a hero who walked with tragedy tied around his waist like a blade." "There was once a hero who changed lives—not with miracles, but with mercy." Shotaro Mugyiwara. A name drowned in dust. A face erased by time. He wakes as a blank slate— somewhere in the shattered lands of Drakastradorn, known also as Aetheria. No memory of who he was. No sense of why he still breathes. Only silence. Only echoes. Only the wind screaming through ruins that remember him better than he remembers himself. This world is not kind. It is carved by Mantra, an energy not of magic, but of something older— from beyond space, beyond time— a power not meant for mortal tongues to name. The land bleeds war. The stars above are scarred. And in this stage of gods and monsters, drama and death... he awakens. ......... "He was always the hero." A child is born in Hokkaido, on the night of January 30, 2008. A birth that was never supposed to happen. From a womb never seeded. A life conjured, not conceived. The world shook the moment he took his first breath. Because something ancient had returned. Something the world had forgotten how to fear. --- "There was once a hero... who was a great diplomat." Who could shape armies not with swords, but with words. Who could bend even fate to a shared purpose. Shotaro Mugyiwara’s life was never normal. And it will never be. Even in a world where he remembers nothing— no comrades, no battles, no lovers, no scars— even with the past ripped from his veins... He walks. He endures. He refuses to kneel. Because the truth is simple. "There was once a hero..." "Who kept moving forward."