Chapter 1 TSH Vol. 1 Prologue

Prologue

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The final blow sundered the very air.

It was a single, decisive slash from a magic sword, infused with every last drop of his mana.

Moments after the greatsword carved its arc, the world began to break. The surrounding walls, the massive stone pillars—they all started to shift, sliding apart at an unnatural angle. With a grating screech of stone on stone, the scenery collapsed in on itself like an avalanche. Pillared corridors gave way, the upper walls and ceiling slid down in a single, catastrophic motion, and a torrent of rubble and shattered fragments exploded outwards.

Once the destruction subsided and the dust began to settle, the figure of a young man emerged.

He stood frozen, mid-swing, like a statue carved from marble. He was young enough to still be called a boy, yet the air about him was that of a seasoned veteran, ancient and weary.

What had he done?

He had cut it.

The throne room, deep within the Demon King’s castle. He had cut the vast, cavernous space itself.

Sunlight pierced through the ruined ceiling, casting brilliant shafts of light into the once-stygian darkness of the audience chamber. The light illuminated the colossal throne, a sight so beautiful it could have been a painting.

After a long moment of silence, a pained groan echoed through the chamber.

The young man’s body folded as he coughed up a great gout of blood and collapsed to his knees. His helmet was long gone, the armor encasing his body was cracked and broken, and the holy sword in his hand was on the verge of shattering.

From behind him, a low chuckle echoed.

“…Heh heh heh…”

The voice was bizarre, unnatural, as if it bypassed the vocal cords entirely and simply vibrated the space around him.

The voice belonged to the Demon King.

Known by some as Drag’vaal, by others as Dog’va, and by still others as Dogz’vald. The King of Chaos, the ruler of all that was demonic, the Lord of Darkness who defied the gods themselves. His name was never settled, for the simple reason that no human tongue could pronounce it. In all the legends, the Demon King’s name was passed down only as the letters: D, GVR.

The throne room was a charnel house. The corpses of powerful monsters, high-ranking demons, and the Demon King’s closest retainers were crushed, carved, and piled high in every direction. It was, quite literally, a mountain of the dead.

The young man turned, his face etched with pain. The Demon King surveyed the carnage, his eyes narrowing.

“To think you could do all this alone… I must admit, I am impressed—Hero.”

The young man trembled as he forced himself back to his feet to face the Demon King.

He was the Hero—the chosen Hero of this generation. A singular existence, born to answer the Demon King’s revival, and the only human capable of striking him down.

The Demon King’s gaze fell upon him. “Tell me your name.”

He answered. “Sieg.”

A light of pure hatred flickered in the Demon King’s eyes as his mouth twisted into a wide, cruel grin.

“I see. Hero Sieg—”

He stared, his gaze like a killing blow. “—You have won.”

A horizontal line appeared across the Demon King’s body, and his form began to slide apart. The crimson jewel that glowed at the center of his chest cracked, a sharp, crystalline snap echoing through the hall. The fissures spread, and the jewel—his Demon Core, the organ that served as his heart—began to crumble.

As the core disintegrated, the Demon King’s body dissolved into black particles. The darkness of his being collapsed, melting into the air until nothing remained.

With his last ounce of strength, the fading Demon King spoke.

“Hero Sieg! I am the Demon King, immortal and undying! I can never be destroyed! To me, death is but a slumber. When the time is right, I shall awaken from my repose and descend upon this land once more!”

As he roared, the audience chamber began to fall apart. The Demon King’s power, which had sustained the castle, was gone.

This is bad!

Sieg’s hands shook as he fumbled for the last healing potion in his leather pouch and downed it in one go.

“Nngh…!”

He had consumed too many potions during the battle. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he fought back the urge to retch. Cold sweat beaded on his skin, and his entire body trembled violently—the symptoms of an overdose.

The Demon King’s final cry continued.

“Kuhahaha! Enjoy your fleeting peace until my return! But do not dare to forget! I will not be vanquished! I shall rise again and again! Tremble in your sleep, Hero! Mwahahahahahaha!”

The walls crumbled, the ceiling fell, the pillars toppled, and the floor gave way.

Sieg dragged his heavy body into a run.

…My body doesn’t move the way I want… I’ve used too much stamina, too much mana…

But he couldn’t die here. Not now.

Amid the deafening roar and the violent, bucking tremors, Sieg sprinted for the exit. He stumbled through the corridors, running with all his might. He crossed the massive bridge extending from the castle gates just as the structure behind him collapsed.

This particular castle had been built upon a lake, its waters filled with a venomous, toxic liquid. Now, the magnificent fortress plunged into that surface, becoming nothing more than a mountain of debris. A great splash erupted, and a tsunami of poison water rushed towards him.

Damn it! I have to get to higher ground!

Sieg summoned his remaining strength and tore through the forest at full speed, managing to reach a nearby hill just in time. He collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

After a while, he looked back. The entire area was now submerged beneath the violet water. Far in the distance, he could see the island that had served as the castle’s foundation. It was the only trace of the Demon King’s fortress that remained. Everything else was gone, replaced by a still, strangely beautiful surface of water.

—Ah…

Looking at the scene, the reality finally sank in.

He had done it. He had finally, finally defeated the Demon King.

Sieg’s face contorted, and something hot spilled from the corner of his eye. He made no move to wipe away the tears that streamed endlessly down his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut. And then—

“I did it… I finally did it! I BEAT THE DEMON KING!”

Sieg threw his head back and let out a triumphant roar.

It had been a long, agonizing journey. So many people had given their lives to get him here. By defeating the Demon King, he had finally honored their sacrifice.

He fell onto his back, spreading his arms and legs wide as he stared up at the sky. The guilt for all the lives lost was a heavy weight, but for this one moment, he allowed himself to savor the pure, unadulterated joy of his victory.

After basking in his triumph for a time, Sieg sat up and noticed something strange.

…Hm? What’s that…?

Near the center of the lake, crackling bolts of lightning suddenly appeared, and a black sphere materialized out of thin air. It wasn’t so much an object as it was a hole, ripped into the fabric of space itself.

As he watched in confusion, the black sphere began to grow at an alarming rate.

What the hell is that!? Did the Demon King leave some kind of trap behind!?

No… that can’t be right. If he had a trap, he would’ve used it sooner!

Then what is that—!?

Sieg had no way of knowing, but the sphere was a rift in spacetime. The titanic clash of power between the Hero and the Demon King had warped time and space, tearing a fissure between dimensions.

A chill ran down Sieg’s spine as he watched the black hole expand.

That thing is bad news! If I get swallowed by that, it’s over!

His instincts screamed at him. He scrambled to his feet and ran, trying to put as much distance between himself and the lake as possible. But the rift expanded far faster than he could run.

In an instant, the black hole spreading from behind him enveloped him completely. In that moment—

—Huh?

The ground vanished. The trees vanished. His vision went black, and all sound ceased. He flailed his arms and legs. A bizarre sensation of both floating and falling seized him, and pure terror gripped his heart.

Stop… Somebody, make it stop! I can’t die yet! I still have things I have to—!

His cries reached no one as the rift consumed him.

“STOOOOOOOOOP!”

And with that, his existence was utterly erased from this time and space.

The next moment—

“Whoa, WHOAAAAAAH! …Huh? Wait… what!?”

Sieg’s eyes snapped open to the sight of a familiar ceiling, a crude thing made from mismatched scraps of wood.

…Eh? Huh? W-What the!?

He couldn’t understand what had happened. He blinked again and again in utter confusion.

…After I beat the Demon King, I was swallowed by a black rift…

His eyes wide with shock, he looked around the room, then at his own hands, then touched his face. A sharp hiss of air escaped his throat.

“What in the world is—EH!?”

He recoiled at the sound of his own voice. It was high-pitched. Young.

Sieg leaped out of bed and rushed to a water jug in the corner of the room. He peered into it, and the face that stared back at him sent him stumbling backward. It was, without a doubt, his own face from several years ago.

“No… way…”

The hut he had woken up in was the one he had lived in years ago. It was his home, on the outskirts of a village in a remote territory.

Sieg was an orphan, abandoned in the forest and raised by the village church. At the age of ten, he had left the church, and with the help of the villagers, built this very hut. Since then, he had made a living by gathering medicinal herbs in the forest, hunting beasts, and trading with the occasional merchant who passed through.

He scanned every corner of the hut, checked his body one more time, and finally, steeling himself, looked at the back of his left hand.

The moment he saw it, his face twisted in despair, and he collapsed to the floor.

“Agh! It’s gone… It’s gone! The Hero’s Crest is gone!”

When a Hero awakened, the Crest of the Hero would appear on the back of their left hand. It was proof of their calling, a mark used to receive aid from kingdoms, territories, the church, and the guild.

That crest was nowhere to be found.

Which meant—

“Did I go back to before I awakened as the Hero…? Did I… travel back in time? No… That’s impossible! Something that ridiculous could never happen!”

Sieg clenched his fists and slammed them against the floorboards. Then a thought struck him.

Wait… does this mean…

A lump formed in his throat. His heart began to pound.

…Do I have to… do it all over again…?

That journey…? Three long, grueling years of fighting to defeat him… all over again…?

You’ve got to be kidding me!

“Nngh-guuuuuuugh!”

A powerful wave of nausea overcame him, and Sieg groaned, tears streaming down his face.

No… I don’t want to! I don’t want to do it again!

That horrible journey! To start over from the very beginning… I can’t! It’s impossible!

On his journey to defeat the Demon King, Sieg had lost so many things—so many people—he held dear. If he had to go through that again, he was sure he would break. It had been that brutal, that soul-crushing of a quest.

He cried like a wild animal. He sobbed like a small child. He screamed curses at the gods, railed against his own fate, beat the floor, and writhed in agony, his face a mask of grief. He cried until it felt like all the moisture had been wrung from his body, until his throat was raw and his voice was gone.

He would cry until he was exhausted, pass out on the floor, and wake only to be consumed by despair once more.

And then, after about three days, when he had no tears left to shed, he slowly pushed himself up.

Despair or not, a living person still gets hungry.

He washed his face, cleaned his body, and made a simple porridge of bread and water, which he ate one painstaking bite at a time. It was his first meal in three days, and it seemed to seep into his very soul. It was more delicious than any feast he had ever eaten.

He noticed the world outside was growing brighter. The sun was rising.

Sieg stepped out of his hut and squinted against the morning glare.

As he took in the crisp morning view, a realization finally dawned on him.

The people who had died the first time around… they were all alive in this world. They weren’t dead.

A tiny flame of hope flickered to life in Sieg’s chest. He spoke his thoughts aloud.

“…That’s right… I can just do it over…”

He nodded to himself, agreeing with the words that had just left his lips. He still felt apprehension, a deep-seated fear of reliving that journey. But when he thought about it, this was a golden opportunity.

Life began to return to Sieg’s face.

That’s it. All I have to do is start over.

I have all my memories from the last time. I know where the demons will attack, I know all their weaknesses, I know where the legendary weapons are hidden, and I even know the cheap tricks to grind for experience.

If I use that knowledge, I can save the people I couldn’t save before.

This time, I don’t have to lose anyone.

Sieg placed a hand on his chest, his expression on the verge of tears as he once again felt the immense weight of what he had lost. He fought back the tears and lifted his head.

Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I know I can do it!

This time for sure—

He nodded firmly, a resolution hardening in his heart.

This time, I won’t let anyone die!

“UWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

Alone in the forest, Sieg let out a powerful roar, cementing his newfound resolve.

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

This time, he would save them all with his own two hands.