Happy End

Thick black smoke covered the sky, accompanied by the cacophony of pained screams and a strong stench of freshly-drawn blood.

What portrayed, however, was a picture of rising hope.

Soldiers lifted their spears to strike through the last bastion of the Dark Lord's defensive line, shredding through the already-desperate monster brutes.

From the distance, the Elves activated their long-range mana artillery, dying the sky white. The humongous Uruk Birds and mana ray-spewing Behemoth fell without being able to inflict significant damage toward the incoming Alliance forces.

The Dwarves showed their expertise over the earth in their next attack. The ground of the stronghold shook, crumbling down the protective walls. Seizing the chance, Humans and Beastmen took over from there, swarming in like a flood threatening to swallow the monsters whole.

The path had been opened. Escorted by the generals of the Alliance, the hero and his companions rushed into the Dark Lord's castle.

A dashing youth in light armor entered the dark chamber wielding a luminous blade, the Holy Sword Feldham. The blade shone with a warm light, allowing him to see even in the blackest dark.

The youth gritted his teeth. Rage boiled in his heart, accompanied by disappointment, and then a stinging pain.

"Why did you defect to his side?"

A figure stood at the far end of the chamber, guarding a huge door engraved with a picture of a demonic being. In his hands was a sword bathed in dark aura, the mere sight of it rendered people breathless from instinctive fear.

"How is it? Is being a 'hero' fun?"

The figure spoke with equally chilling tone. The boiling rage inside was comparable to the youth. The figure took down their hood to show a rugged man's face. Half of his face was burned, and a long scar ran through his left eyes. That eye was shining with reddish hue, most likely a byproduct of magic.

"My good 'brother' Sasha... are you satisfied? You robbed me of my family. You robbed me of my prestige. Now, you want to rob me of my destiny?!"

Lenard Granberg. He was actually the son of Baron Granberg's younger sister, who had married a noble from other house. Due to a string of unfortunate events, that noble had lost his life in a war, and the entire family perished. Lenard was the only survivor.

Baron Granberg took pity of the child and raised him as his own son. As time went on, he had actually grew fond of this nephew of his, favoring him over his own biological son. When the Granberg fell after the catastrophe, Lenard set out to avenge them, becoming strong enough to wield the Holy Sword.

The hero before Sasha's rebirth was actually his older brother, Lenard. He'd only found out by the time he had to face against him in the Holy Sword's chamber.

In this lifetime, Sasha had eclipsed Lenard from their childhood, using his extensive knowledge to outperform him every single time. In past life, they merely held apathy toward each other at worst. Right now, they had turned into bitter rivals, to the point of almost killing each other.

Lenard had fallen into a crevasse filled with lava after he was defeated in the Holy Sword's chamber. Sasha had thought that he had died. Miraculously, here he was, obstructing his way to the Dark Lord.

"You've sold your soul to the Dark Lord, big brother... no, you're not worthy of being called that anymore, you traitor!"

Sasha raised the Holy Sword, letting its power bathed over him. At the same time, Lenard raised his weapon, the cursed sword Belther, and swung forward. Sasha responded with a straight slash.

For master swordsmen like them, there was no need for fancy tricks. One slash, one kill. The victor was decided in a single strike. The one who had made the smallest mistake, lose.

When Sasha fell to his knees, blood poured out from his side. His companions scrambled to his sides, screaming his name.

"Hahaha... HAHAHAHA!!"

Lenard's maniacal laughter echoed in the hall for but a moment. As quick as it came, it died out instantly as he crashed to the ground.

"Even until the end... I still can't beat... you..."

Blood spurted out from his chest. From his shoulder blade to his waist, a wide, diagonal cut appeared. With death approaching, his breathing grew shorter and shorter as he watched Sasha's companions helped him back to his feet.

"I was an ambitious fool. This... is enough.. "

His companions eyed the dying Lenard with caution, but Sasha had a complicated feeling in his heart. Gone was the arrogant older brother who'd always talked him down. What was left was a broken man, disappointed with his own life.

It reminded him of his old self.

"Sasha... carry my ambitions... defeat... the Dark Lord..."

Lenard closed his eyes. His parting words were etched deep in Sasha's heart.

"I'll do it even without you telling me."

Helped by his companions, Sasha opened the door toward the Dark Lord's chamber. The final battle was at hand.

"Worry not, brother. I'll avenge everyone... including you."

Clutching the Holy Sword tightly, he marched on.

---

The battle continued until dawn. The rising sun was the harbinger of a new era. At that moment, the monsters stopped their resistance and cowered as if they had lost their courage.

Suddenly, the balcony of the castle was flung open, and the hero Sasha and his companions walked out with confidence. They were battered and bruised after that harsh fight, but in the end, they had won.

Sasha raised the Holy Sword. A shining light poured out into the sky like a beacon. Upon seeing it, every sentient races in the continent had finally realized that the Dark Lord had been slain.

It was over. This nightmare that had lasted for two whole years had finally ended.

Sasha suddenly felt someone hugging his arm. At his side, the party's healer, the holy priestess Ellis, leaned on his shoulder. Her eyes were teary, and her voice choked by her crying. Nevertheless, they were, without a doubt, tears of happiness.

"My Lord, It's over, right?"

Sensing the atmosphere between the two, the rest of the party took a tactical retreat to the side. They didn't want to risk incurring Ellis's wrath. Under that gentle personage lies a ferocious tiger, ah!

Sasha of course noticed their antics, but he didn't mind. With his other hand, he patted Ellis's head before pulling her into his embrace.

"Aaah. It's over."

---

After the rest of the monsters were either annihilated or driven into the depth of the wilderness, the victorious Alliance army returned to their home. As heroes who had risked their lives for the world, they were treated with utmost respect. Civilians shouted their name in admiration, while bards carried songs and tales of heroic deeds in the battlefield.

The one who received the biggest praise was, without a doubt, the hero who had wielded the Holy Sword and personally slain the Dark Lord. From that point on, the name of Sasha Granberg would be revered throughout the continent as their savior.

However, Sasha couldn't help but regret his past mistakes. Things had turned for the better in this lifetime, and yet some had turned for the worst. For example, the captain of his old squadron, the 'Stalwart Protector' whom he had sacrificed his life for, had perished before the catastrophe. At that time, he had been too reckless, and so his captain paid the price when she protected him.

Even though he had wished to share this victory with her...

Nevertheless, he couldn't turn back time. He wouldn't, either way. This world had finally been saved. To return to that dark days just because of his guilt wouldn't be logical.

Those mistakes, this pain... he had decided to carry them until his final days.

It was time for he and his companions to part ways.

Alfi the Elven archer was given the position of elder in his country, which would keep him busy for the next few centuries. He kept urging Sasha to come visit so they could drink wine and fool around like before.

Gord, the wandering knight who had protected them with his unmoving shield, had been pardoned of his crime by the Human kingdom. He was given a position in the King's Royal Guard, but he had declined in order to travel the world.

Upon hearing that, Celeste the mage decided to throw away her invitation to join the Mage Tower's council of elders, wanting to go with Gord instead. No matter how many times he had rejected her, she remained stubborn.

Sasha could only laughed at their antics. Perhaps a wedding invitation would arrive sooner or later from distant land.

As for himself... she shot a glance at Ellis. The girl blushed before looking away.

"I heard that the temple will give you the Head Priestess title?"

"Ah, yeah... what about you, Lord?"

"The King said that house Granberg will be raised into dukedom... and I'll be conferred a huge swath of land."

"Oh... that's a good news!"

"I declined, though."

Ellis had a blank expression on her face.

"Eeeh, why?!"

"Don't want it. Managing a dukedom is too much a hassle. I'll leave it to my father. More importantly..."

He knelt in front of her, and then took her hand. From his pocket, he pulled out a ring adorned with a beautiful blue gem.

When she saw it, her vision was quickly blurred with tears.

"Ellis. My only wish is to live a simple life, away from all those noises and hubbub. I wish to live that life together... with you. Will you... marry me?"

Was there a need for words?

Without giving him any chance to react, Ellis had lunged forward to plant a kiss on his lips.

---

A long journey.

It was hard back then during the war. Countless lives were sacrificed for the sake of victory. However, the ensuing peace was worth it.

The Alliance members' relation with each other had tightened after sharing the same ordeal. Discrimination among different races had decreased drastically. Instead of returning as separate countries, the members had agreed to unite as one under the banner of the Alliance.

The Dragonkin was almost driven into extinction, but a few survivors who had remained steadfast against joining the Dark Lord, was working hard to recover their race. Whether they succeeded or not remained to be seen.

As for the 'hero' who had made this peace possible...

He had retreated to a small hamlet at the edge of the continent, living his life peacefully with his wife by his side. As time passed, their children grew, so did their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Each were accomplished men and women of their time, and their tales, brought whenever they came to visit him, had filled his life with immense joy.

He was sad when his wife had left before him, but he was at peace. He realized that his own time was drawing near, that it wouldn't be long before he would join her over there.

The next year, his family had gathered in that small hamlet. The 'hero' was lying on his bed, his eyes scanning the people surrounding him.

His beloved sons and daughters, his doted grandchildren, even his precious great-grandchildren were all there. Even that old chap, Alfi, was there, disguised as a human youth. Aah, that idiot of an Elf was too emotional, he broke into tears before everyone else.

But Sasha himself was calm.

It was merely the end of his life. The world will keep moving forward. He would give the torch to his descendants.

As he felt death approaching, he closed his eyes. His friends and family's voice, who were calling his name, grew fainter and fainter until only silence remained.

This life, was it enough?

Yes. It was enough.

He was thankful for his rebirth, thankful that he was given one more chance to live his life. This time, he had given it his all, and his life had finally reached its happy end.

That's why, it was enough.

It was finally time to rest after this long, long journey...

---

When he opened his eyes, it was a familiar room. He wouldn't have mistaken it.

It was his room back in the Granberg estate. Even the messy wardrobe and the dusty bookshelves were still the same, as if the catastrophe had never happened.

He quickly jumped out of the bed to open the window and leaned out slightly. His eyes came upon the sight of lush greeneries in the distance, as well as the bustling street of the village nearby.

"..."

He raised those small, slender fingers and pinched his cheek as hard as he could.

Pain...

His neck creaked, slowly turning his head toward his wardrobe, where a mirror was attached on its door. His back was drenched in cold sweat.

What staring back was still him, yet it was his self when he was still six years old. Gone was his adult self, torn and broken from harsh training and countless deadly battles. In its place was a pampered, good-for-nothing young master of a noble family who had known no hardship.

A smorgasbord of curses that could make a sailor blush upon hearing them, that was his feeling at the moment.

He pinched his cheeks once more.

Still painful.

Ah, yeah. It seemed that he really had returned once again to the past.

Summarizing the entirety of his emotion into one concise and easy to understand word, his lips parted to let the world know about it.

"...F*ck"