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•To Be A Hero•

What does it mean to be a hero? Is it strength? Desire? Prestige? Notoriety? Mindset? Simply a title? If so, how did one aquire such a title? What were the requirements? Can anyone be a hero? Even a demon? A young man sets out to achieve his dream of becoming a hero, something he had read about in a plethora of stories. Facing many a setback due to his own demonic heritage, he vowed to travel the Seven Continents to find out what it truly means to be strong. To find out what it truly meant To Be A Hero.

Shadow_Drev_ · Kỳ huyễn
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3 Chs

An Odd Turnout

12 hours Prior

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

No cargo delivery was ever quite complete without an assorted amount of immediate problems, and this was something Aamon Belphegor was just beginning to learn.

Though on this particular trip it wasn't a stretch to say that it was happening far more than he himself thought reasonable. Having hitched a ride on a Carriage designed to carry precious equipment, one that just happened to be traveling in the very direction he had needed to go, Aamon didn't really have much room to complain. This was especially true since the young man didn't really have any sort of money to reimburse the driver with, having merely been lucky enough to snag a travel method that went towards his intended destination. Naturally, the least the young man could do was to sort out any of the happenings that transpired along their route so as to pay his way forward for the kindness shown.

Tree fallen in the path? He moved it.

Monsters attacked? He scared them off.

Burglars showed up? He beat them.

It seemed like an easy setup. Aamon just hadn't expected for so many of these particular situations to arise.

At most, he figured there would be one or two mishaps, allowing him to nap the rest of the way.

But no.

For the entirety of the two day trip from where he had been picked up, to the large scale city known as Jularion, the incidents had stacked up one after another. A mob of Umbryn Hyenas yapped at the wheels, a freakish storm knocked over a multitude of trees, and an endless supply of thugs had approached the vehicle only to be chased off or beaten down. It got to the point where the driver himself was offering to pay Aamon for doing such a good job, even shoving some coins into his hand after repeated refusal to accept it. Everything was just so confusing to the young man that, in the end, he just accepted his fate and thanked the man for his gesture.

As they got closer to their destination, Aamon had expected the number of incidents to go down.

But again, he was wrong.

Bang! Bang!

Aamon Belphegor ripped open his eyes, pitch black hues gracing the world as he quickly shot upwards, maneuvering into a crouching position. Hues flicking back and forth, the young man's hand reflexively reached to his back where a large black staff was hovering in place, ready to be drawn at a moments notice.

"Easy there young one," A voice from ahead said calmly. "There's nothing wrong. I just thought you might wanna see this."

"Oh. Mr. Yuuka." Aamon slowly relaxed, his hand releasing it's grip on the staff. Shifting his body into a sitting criss cross, the horned individual switched his point of focus onto the driver of the carriage, a man with hair a deep shade of black. "Sorry. I might have gotten a bit carried away with that."

"Dont even worry about it," Yuuka said, waving aside Aamon's battle ready reaction. "We've both been on edge since those Hyenas attacked. You needed the rest. Also, for the last time, please drop the Mister part."

"Nope."

"Eheh, I thought as much. You're so formal." Yuuka rubbed the back of his head, his other hand carefully holding the reins. "That aside, the real reason I woke you up-"

"Woahhhh!! Haha. That's a LOT of vehicles!!" Aamon exclaimed from his position on the top cargo carriage, a mixture of excitement and curiosity evident in every fiber of his being. Head full of bright white hair swiveled in every direction as the youth took in the surrounding sights. "Just how many of them do you think there are?"

"Yeah, that's the reason." The black haired merchant chuckled. "We're right in Jularion's backyard."

Prior to where they had ended up, Yuuka's carriage had seldomly ran across other passerbys, be it on foot or by way of transport. It had been a long, isolated, drive through the countryside. According to the driver, it was mainly because of how out of the way their route had been, Yuuka having had to make a few deliveries and pickups in small recluse villages. It was because of this route that the delivery driver had been able to pick up Aamon, saving the boy from trekking hundreds of kilometers to Jularion.

That had all changed when they exited the dirt road and onto a neatly lined brick path.

Carriages of every shape and size, pulled by everything from Giant Salamanders to Erlian Dragons could be seen moving in two separate directions. The chatter of adults and children alike, the clattering of wheels, hooves and claws, and the shaking of cargo filled the immediate air, adding so much life and energy to the previously deadened atmosphere that Aamon didn't even know where to focus his attention. So many new things happening all around them prevented the youth from zeroing in on any one event, an almost overwhelming amount of ongoings that was vastly different from anything the white haired youth had experienced before. Far off into the immediate distance, behind an enormous concrete wall that seemed to scrape the very clouds, colorful explosions dotted sky, cheers of joy following each and every one.

"What are those blasts of light?" Aamon questioned, his gaze locking onto the occasional outbursts of red, orange, and yellow.

"You mean the fireworks?" Yuuka questioned, glancing back slightly. "You've never seen fireworks before kiddo?"

"Fire.....works," the white haired youth muttered back. "Aren't those the ones used for celebrations? Like when Amdain won against the Dragon Lord Crailin and freed the Lamia Kingdom."

"You mean the Spacial Hero?" the driver replied. "Not too many people know about that story. But yeah, those are the same ones, except these are being used for the Heroic Grail Festival."

"Heroic Grail?" Aamon asked, confused once again.

"Indeed." Yuuka pulled his carriage to a slight halt, the traffic preventing him from fully moving forward. "It's a celebration that happens once every quarter of a year. A few heroes from around the continent will gather to one of Argario's major cities and host a tournament. Adventurers will participate in that same tournament to show off their skills in hope of being recruited into one of the Heroic Guilds. The winner of the tournament will also get the blessing of one or more Heroes, a Grail. With that Grail, they're said to have the potential to be a hero themselves and are bestowed a title as such."

"The Heroic Grail Festival...." Aamon mused, eyes looking off into the distance.

"It's strange you don't know this," Yuuka said as the carriage began to move once again. "I figured the festival was the main reason you were headed to Jularion."

"So, winning a tournament is all it takes to become a potential hero?" Aamon queried, rubbing his chin. "Strength and skill? Beating others?"

"Who can say. There're all types of heroes in the world. Just because you get the blessing and claimed to have potential doesn't mean you'll cut it as one."

"Hmmmm."

That was around when the problem showed up, when Aamon was thinking on what Yuuka had told him.

Just on the brink of making it into the thriving city, one of many belonging to Argario, with carriages going in and out by the dozens, it just so happened that their cart was the one that got stopped.

This one though was a tad different. That was the feeling Aamon was getting from the whole ordeal.

"You're saying you need to inspect the cargo?" Yuuka questioned, a look of curiosity on his visage. "Might I ask on who's authority you're doing it for? I would be more obliged if I knew whom I was giving way to."

The carriage had pulled over to the side of the fourway lane going in and out of what Yuuka had previously called the West Gate. According to the dark haired driver, there were a total of six main gates in total, each one positioned in the direction of some major city in Argario. The lanes formed a complex web that were all interconnected, something that was further backed considering that the four lanes going out of the West Gate split off. Two lanes going North and the other two going South, it was neatly organized and setup in a way that even the dumb and simpleminded could understand. Four lanes, six gates, one weirdly shaped city that in fact DIDN'T form a circle which Aamon found to be the least interesting detail.

In the middle of this weird shaped V leading out of the West Gate is where Yuuka had been forced to park, nearly rammed out of the street by an Argarion "Knight".

"If you would step down from the carriage sir, then we can answer your questions for you."

Aamon looked down from his position on the top of the carriage, his head peeking over the side. He somehow had yet to be seen and he quickly took advantage of that fact, taking in the looks of the ones that had stopped them. He hadn't been paying too much attention to the ongoings in his immediate area due to his own fascination on the carriages, fireworks, and other ongoings. Now, with full attention on the new arrivals, he quickly took everything in. Having grown up the way he had, he wouldn't have been able to pick anything substantial up but he WAS curious about who was talking since these were some of the first nonbeast people he had ever made contact with other than Yuuka.

He wasn't able to tell much from them other than the fact that they dressed rather flashily, and stood out like a sore thumb.

If he had to describe them in one word, it would be "fresh meat".

They bore the brightest red armor, complete with a mask that covered their face, chest plates, arm guards, legs guards, and thick longswords strapped to their hips. Every stride they took looked heavy, as if every step was weighing them down and making them slower and more clunky. The way they spoke lacked tact and authority, their confidence coming off as someone keeping up an act rather than someone who ACTUALLY knew they were the ones in charge. Though most would probably buckle under the weight of their own facade, to Aamon, they looked like prey disguising themselves as predators. In the jungle, there were tons of animals that acted similarly in order to protect themselves.

Sad part was, those prey did a much better job then the Argarion Knights could ever pull off.

Aamon thought for a second, let out a breath and rose onto his feet. After stretching himself out to make sure his body was nice and limber, he jumped off the carriage.

Tap!

The young man landed so lightly, the dozen or so armed individuals seemed to be taken aback for a second, none of them reacting for a solid few seconds. Which was definitely a shame since Aamon wasted little to no time in laying his paws on every single one of them.

"A child??!!" One of the Knights exclaimed as the demihuman ran up on him.

Boom!

A blow to the center of the chest sent the man flying back a few feet, his heavy body making a small thud.

"You idiot, do you realize what you just did?" One of the Knights questioned, drawing his longsword from its sheath. All around the other Knights did the same, readying for a fight they clearly weren't prepared for. "You just struck at the military officials of Jularion. Are you aware of the consequences that come with that?"

Aamon let out another deep breath, his black hues flicking from one knight to the next, eyeing each and every single one of them with one up glances. Shaking longswords, uncertain steps backwards, cracked voices, and no moves to actually get the upper hand. One thing was pretty much clear from the short interaction he had had with them.

These guys had never seen a lick of actual combat.

It was something that needed to be corrected.

"Geee, it looks like I'm all alone," Aamon said casually, glancing backwards to Yuuka. "I guess it sure would be nice to have some backup. Just me, by myself, a criminal, with no one involved, fighting other people."

Yuuka seemed to catch on almost instantly, grabbing the reins of his horse and giving them a strong flick. The steed let out a whiny and pulled out of the intersection before anyone had time to utter a single word, joining in the crowd of other carriages going in and out of the city. Just before he disappeared into the crowd, a shiny object was thrown towards the horned youth, of which was instantly plucked out of the air. A clear whistle, completely see through as if it was made out of glass. Without questioning it, Aamon stuffed the newly obtained device into the pockets of his baggy black pants, choosing to worry about it at a later point. Seeing Yuuka go on ahead already made the purple haired youth feel slightly better about his spontaneous decision as he turned his attention back to the individuals in front of him, of who no made attempts to actually chase after Yuuka's carriage. Fearing the one that was stronger than them, naturally they would be too afraid to turn their backs to pursue their original prey.

"Alright then Knights." Aamon whipped the black staff from his back and gave it a spin. As he flicked it downwards, a thick blade made with some kind of black material phased into existence. "Show me something interesting."