"This is the end, Louis, Right Hand of the Demon King."
The words echoed through the icy wind, sharp as the blades drawn against him.
At the edge of a sheer cliff, under a blood-red sky, a young man stood alone. His figure wavered in the breeze, his back to the void, his front facing an army. Encircling him were soldiers in steel and five individuals whose very names stirred awe and terror alike the Five Glorious Heroes.
In his trembling hands, he clutched a rusted sword the kind that might fetch a few coins from a village blacksmith. Useless. Insulting.
And yet he stood.
Louis's lips quivered. His voice was hoarse and raw."What have I done...? I'm just a scribe of the Glorious Kingdom. Why... why are the legendary heroes trying to kill me?"
Before him, the leader of the Five, Aeros Stun, raised a radiant blade the Sword of Dawn, said to have slain demons and gods alike. His eyes were aflame with righteous fury.
"What have you done? Hah! Spare us your coward's traitor. The whole realm knows you gave the Demon King every strategy, every secret. Because of you, Suriya burns!"
Louis's mind reeled. The accusation was absurd. A cruel joke of fate.He had never met the Demon King, much less helped him.He wanted peace. A world free from war, famine, and despair. That was all.He had joined the kingdom as a humble scribe, dreaming of writing policies that could change lives.
But now, standing at the edge of annihilation, branded a traitor...The world had rewritten his role in its script turning a dreamer into a devil.
The Five Glorious Heroes a force sanctified by blood and prophecy.
They were more than warriors. They were symbols.
Aeros Stun, the Hero of Lightning whose wrath summoned storms and whose justice struck like thunder. A living tempest.
Roemora, the Archmage of Eight Circles a prodigy who weaved five elemental magics as if composing a song. Her silence was deadlier than most screams.
Grokal, Son of Buraka a war-beast clad in human skin. With an axe larger than most men, he had once held a bridge alone against a thousand demons. That day, the river ran red for weeks.
Arkameda Ruby, the Dancer of Steel noble by birth, assassin by choice. Her spear Anarko whirled like a serpent in her grasp, her elegance belying the brutality of her art.
Ramson Debb, the Whisperer a man without loyalty or light. He did not fight wars. He ended them before they began. Every secret, every sin of the kingdom passed through his ears.
And Louis?He was a mistake.A name fated to be carved in history not as a savior, but a scapegoat.
No one cared for truth anymore.Not when lies tasted sweeter.Not when the world demanded a villain to blame for its own rot.
And so, five legends stood against one rusted soul.
For the first time in his life, Louis was truly seen but not as he was.Only as they needed him to be.
The Right Hand of the Demon King. What a joke that can't make me laugh.
The wind at the mountaintop lashed against his face — cold and cutting, like the truth that had just struck him.
"I... am not a traitor."The words slipped from Louis's lips, no stronger than a whisper in the wind.No one heard. And even if they had, none would believe him.He looked up at the sky with empty eyes.
Aeros stepped forward, steady and imposing. The ground itself seemed to yield to his stride.Behind him, the other four heroes stood still, watching in silence, their gazes sharp and judgmental.
"Louis Cirsius," Aeros said, voice like a blade. "You may deceive yourself. But not us."Each word carved its place into the air — unshakable, final.
Roemora raised an eyebrow. Her expression was blank, but the aura around her pulsed with restrained magic."There's no point talking to a traitor. Let's end this performance."
Louis gripped the hilt of his rusted sword tighter. His hand bled — whether from wounds or from clinging too long to false hope, he didn't know.He raised the blade, pointing it at the Five Glorious Heroes.
"I don't know anything! I swear by the sky I gaze upon each night… I only wrote. I only wanted to change the world..."
Arkameda smiled — beautifully, like a noblewoman at a royal ball.But beneath that smile, venom coiled."The world doesn't change with ink, dear. It changes with blood. And today... that blood is yours."
Louis stepped back — just slightly, but enough.Behind him was only the abyss.No escape.No friends to save him.No proof to defend his name.
Just him… and five legends who had never known defeat.
"Why me?" His voice cracked. "Why all these accusations? Who orchestrated this?!"
At last, Ramson Debb spoke.His voice was soft, barely a whisper — yet more terrifying than any battle cry."Because you're dangerous. Better to erase you… before you realize why."
Louis froze.
Dangerous?A scribe — considered dangerous by the five strongest people in the kingdom?
Truth was no longer a weapon.It was a burden.And the world preferred to bury its burdens.
His eyes slowly changed.No more tears.No more pleas.
Only emptiness.
"Very well," he said quietly. "If you see me as a threat... then I'll become a threat worth fearing."
And as if the heavens heard him — thunder rolled.
Lightning flashed through the clouds. But for a moment, it didn't come from Aeros.
It came from behind Louis.From the chasm.From the darkness beneath the world.
And something... answered his call.
Everyone stood frozen as lightning tore through the sky — wild, furious, as though the heavens themselves were enraged.
Louis smiled… and stepped backward into the abyss.
They all watched as his body fell into the bottomless ravine.No tricks.No magic.Just a powerless man — swallowed by the shadows.
His form vanished.Silent. Gone.
"It's done," Aeros muttered.But the words felt hollow.
Far below, in a place no light could reach...
a pair of eyes opened.