A quick rundown of how I became a Hero of the West, if you care.
A Hero of the West is a title only given by one person who could combat thousand of demons in a single battlefield. If you ask a child of the West who is their all-time favorite, almost all of the name they said would be someone who once held the Hero of the West title. Of course, I was once that kind of kid, too. I love the Eight, the current Hero Of The West back then. That sentiment carried on until I was seventeen. Then when I heard that the Hero is recruiting a brave soldier or fight with him, I acted. I ran out of the orphanage to fight with my childhood role model.
I thought it was the best decision I made.
Turned out there were a lot of people sharing the same dream as me— to fight with the Hero. We were trained for a year, I made some friend in barrack, learn how to use sword, learn how to follow orders. Preparing myself to face demon. Forged to die in the battlefield. I became a soldier.
Just a week before the war, the soldiers were being noisy than usual. "That's him, the one wearing the mask. Hero of the West!"
All the wounds I made was paid when Capra showed up. People have told me to never met your heroes. Since they might not be the person who you think they are.
But Capra is everything I think he were. He sneaked out of his meeting with the Councils of the West, to have a dinner with us, a lowly soldiers. We laughed and drank. He told stories back when he was a soldier like us. Weak and scared. That improved our morale, since we are weak and scared.
He reassured us, "If you die, I win the war; we win the war. If I die, you win the war; we win the war."
We went into the battlefield with his promise. I realized I am not scared of dying anymore. I have a purpose.
To win the war.
What war? No one knows but the higher-ups and maybe the Hero. We were just a soldiers after all, we only fight.
What I do know is we are outside of the Kingdom's wall. The demons are probably trying to breach in. Oh, there were a lot of them. There were a lot of us, too.
The war was very long and exhausting. Many dies, both side.
The Hero fought, flames bursting out of his body like a Phoenix. He probably slain thousand than all of us soldiers combined.
My performance in the battlefield? I didn't do much, you see, I was taken by this big bird to the sky and dropped off somewhere in the nearby forest. There were others with me too. But unlike them, I was saved by branches in the forest while the others just crashed on the ground with their silver armors.
So I can't really do much anyway.
Now this is where everything spirals down… and it still is now.
I came back to the battlefield, I remember the promise. I am still alive and I have a war to win.
But the war was over.
Thousand of dead bodies and monster on the ground, their flesh and blood mixing up.
In the mist of it, was the Hero. Capra. His body is still burning when I found him. I tried to stop it with sands, but it kept burning even his bones. Then he was ashes. Only his sword left. The hero is dead.
I look at the walls we were protecting, breached.
There could be only one conclusion I can think of, "We lost. And everyone is dead."
But I am still alive. So I did the only thing I can think of. Carrying the Hero's sword back to the West kingdom. Even if he lost this one, he had win many other wars. And his weapon was the only thing that didn't get affected by his… uh, magic.
So I pick it up.
Walk back to the city. The gate opened without needing me to confirm my identity.
And that happened.
"THE HERO IS BACK!" "OUR HERO OF THE WEST!" "HE SURVIVED!" "HE MUST HAVE WON THE WAR!" "but where is the other soldiers?" "WHO CARES ABOUT THEM, THE HERO IS HERE MEANING THEY HAVE WON!"
The Hero is back, everyone chanting as I walk inside the city's gate. The celebrated, crying, singing, throwing flowers to the sky. "Glory to The West!"
I remember shouting, telling them I am merely a soldier. The hero is dead!
But none of them reaches even one of their ears.
A group of elite soldier came and grabbed me. Well, that's an understatement, they literally put me unconscious in the broad daylight while people were still cheering. "The hero is tired, make a way," said one of the elite soldier.