The Demon King was dead.
The evil that had once gripped the continent was gone, but the real problem came after the ending.
“Clay, you conspired with the Demon King and deceived the entire continent.”
Evidence had emerged from the dead Demon King’s corpse suggesting he had an informant within the Hero’s party.
And that informant… was me.
“Countless people who trusted you were deceived by your vile schemes and lost their lives. You must take responsibility for your sins.”
And the one delivering the verdict was none other than my childhood friend and the Empress of the Imperial Nation Ezer—Tia de Mezelef.
With my arms tied behind my back by ropes that suppressed mana, I knelt on the platform. Above me—no, far above the platform, on the throne—sat Tia.
Though she had only recently come of age and still bore a hint of youth, her blue eyes looked faded, lifeless. Her long blonde hair fluttered roughly, slightly unkempt.
She must have agonized over this decision too. The Holy Alliance, which held dominion over the continent, had likely pressured her to have me executed. She wouldn’t have had any justification to save me.
“If only you had believed in me.”
With the investigation’s evidence deemed irrefutable, everyone who had once fought beside me turned their backs on me. Tia was no exception.
Everyone had accepted the charge, that I had communicated with the Demon King.
“Even if it wasn’t me…”
There must have been a spy. There had been far too many near-death crises for it to be a coincidence. That was why, when the evidence came out, no one could bring themselves to trust me.
If I disappeared, the real spy would just grin and run rampant, but that was no longer my concern. I gave a hollow laugh.
“...The sentence.”
Tia’s lips trembled as she delivered my fate.
“The criminal Clay is hereby sentenced to death by hanging.”
At that moment, the crowd gathered around the execution platform erupted in fury.
“You bastard! Our entire village was slaughtered because of you!”
“Do you even understand what you've done?!”
“Regret your sins in hell, you piece of trash!”
A stone flew from somewhere. Several struck my head, but I didn’t even flinch. The soldiers beside me lifted me to my feet.
Then they turned me around and dragged me toward the gallows. It seemed like Tia tried to say something during that moment, but I didn’t care anymore.
I had given everything to this world, and this was the reward I got. Looking down at my bare torso, I could see the clear signs of torture still carved into my body.
Among them were sealing circles etched in by priests, repeatedly engraved to completely suppress my power. The extent to which I was ravaged made me wonder if all this was truly necessary.
So dying was better. There was nothing left for me now.
“……”
The noose tightened around my neck on the gallows, and the stone-throwing worsened. My already battered body took on new bruises and wounds.
I looked around one last time.
Amid the angry crowd, I saw the former members of my party.
Yuru, the mage.
The small figure kept her head lowered, not daring to look this way. I could only see strands of her blue hair peeking from under her wide-brimmed hat.
Nael, the beastkin warrior.
Her thick, fox-like tail hung low as she stared at me. She looked both furious and devastated.
Yelena, the elf archer.
She had followed me out of the mysterious forest, trusting only me. Though she claimed to be older than she looked, she had never once revealed her true age.
Her white hair, stirred slightly by the wind, remained untended as her green eyes looked at me with unreadable emotion.
So lonely.
I hadn’t thought I’d meet the end feeling this alone.
Thud.
The noose slipped around my upright neck.
It was laced with shards of enchanted glass—so the moment it tightened, my skin tore.
“Kh…!”
Pain crushed my breath.
Even then, the crowd did nothing but scream obscenities at me. Seeing them like that… something dark rose within me.
“Fine, let’s see how that works out for you.”
I glared at them, blood vessels bursting in my eyes from the effort to endure the pain.
“I’ll be watching from the other side to see how well things turn out.”
The soldiers stepped away from me.
The end was near.
One of them placed his hand on the lever that would release the trapdoor beneath me. The roar of the crowd now felt like distant noise underwater.
Slowly, I turned my head to look at my childhood friend who had passed this sentence upon me.
“Tia, I…”
The soldier pulled the lever.
The trapdoor opened beneath my feet.
My neck snapped like a broken puppet’s before I could finish my words.
My last memory… was of Tia squeezing her eyes shut.
♧
Clay.
He was the Hero chosen to lead the party that set out from the western part of the Pandéa continent to defeat the Demon King.
Wielding the Holy Sword forged by dwarves, he fought countless battles and came to be called the Hero of Reversal. But in the end, it was revealed that he had conspired with the Demon King to bring ruin to the other nations.
Some claimed it was a setup—saying the Holy Alliance had framed him to keep his growing influence in check. But those who dared voice such doubts were branded heretics and publicly executed.
Thus, his name was all but erased from history.
Bang!
A tavern in Ezer.
Yelena, the elf archer, sat alone, gulping down alcohol. The loud clink of her glass hitting the table drew everyone’s attention.
“Um, miss, I think you’ve had too much… Maybe you should stop…”
Bang!
She slammed the glass again and rose from her seat.
Dropping a few silver coins, she left the tavern.
“I’m sorry, Clay. I truly am. I’m sorry for letting it come to that…”
Muttering the same words over and over, she disappeared into the dark streets.
She wasn’t the only one living like a ghost day after day.
Nael, the beastkin warrior, stood in the center of an underground arena.
The crowd cheered wildly, betting dirty money on the matches.
“Raaaah!”
She hurled her opponent—a challenger who had just entered the stage—like a rag doll, roaring with fury.
The spectators were ecstatic.
Her physical strength, as a former Hero’s party member, was overwhelming.
“More! More!”
Cries of madness filled the air as another challenger stepped up. Gritting her teeth, she stomped the ground and roared once more.
The crowd cheered in response, but no one noticed the pain in her eyes.
Meanwhile, Yuru the mage had locked herself inside a chamber within the Blue Tower, where she served as its Master.
She wasn’t reading. She had long since mastered every spell recorded in the Blue Tower’s archives. Her studies hadn’t stopped because of talent.
She was in turmoil. Until she unraveled that confusion, she couldn’t take in anything new.
And the source of that turmoil was none other than the dead Clay.
Was he truly the Demon King’s pawn? Even during the interrogations, he had produced Magia, corrupted demonic mana that only a Demon King’s follower could possess.
She had to accept the results.
But she couldn’t stop the tears.
“Why did you do it… Brother…”
Her confusion turned into resentment. But within that resentment lay a deep, aching longing.
And she wasn’t the only one who missed him.
BOOM!
Thunder cracked through a torrential downpour.
In the imperial palace, Tia looked out through the window at the stormy weather.
Still standing with deadened eyes, she suddenly threw the window open and stepped out onto the balcony. The rain soaked her golden hair, weighing it down.
She regretted closing her eyes during his final moment. She should’ve watched—no matter what.
But even if she went back in time… she couldn’t be sure she’d have the courage to open her eyes.
“...You were the one in the wrong.”
Tears—hot and different from the cold raindrops—trickled down Tia’s cheeks as she bit her lip.
While everyone else struggled with the aftermath of the Hero’s death in their own ways—
BOOM!
A lightning bolt struck not a grave, but a remote, barren patch of land.
“Ugh…”
From beneath the loosely packed dirt, a hand reached out.
Someone—no, something—buried in that earth began to claw their way up.
“Ugh! Huff!”
Gasping and panicked, the figure dug free and lifted their face from the dirt.
“Pwah!”
Cough, cough.
Spitting mud from his mouth, the man—without question, the once-executed Clay—muttered in confusion.
“What… is this?”
He had come back to life.
And he had no idea what kind of chaos that would bring to the former members of the Hero’s party.
(End of Chapter)