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Chapter 1 - The old man and the Boy

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In a modest old house nestled in a small village on the outskirts of Indussia's capital, an old man sat in a worn chair. The fire crackled gently beside him. Across from him, perched attentively on a stool, was a young boy—his grandson, and the only family he had left.

The old man leaned forward, his eyes flickering with the glow of the fire.

> "There will come a day when this world will engulf itself in the fires of hell, and chaos shall befall it," he began. "But if the Hero of mankind and the Demon Lord of the demonfolk prove themselves before the Goddesses of Life and Death, they shall be granted a choice.

To destroy all life and oversee the birth of a new world—immortal...

Or to sacrifice themselves to save this world.

But none shall remember their sacrifice."

He looked at the boy, who sat wide-eyed, fully absorbed.

> "So, my boy," the old man asked, "if you were to be the Hero, what would you choose? Sacrifice the world for yourself, or sacrifice yourself for the world?"

The boy didn't hesitate.

> "Why should I sacrifice myself for a world that wouldn't even remember me?"

The old man's eyes narrowed, amused. "Then would you let the world end?"

> "Why should I sacrifice my world for some cause I don't even understand?"

The old man chuckled. "Hoho~ Then what do you propose to be the right thing to do?"

The boy's eyes burned with determination.

> "I'd destroy the root cause before it even happens! I'll cut down everything that stands in my way and save both the world and myself. That's the only right thing to do—even if it means fighting the gods!"

The old man let out a hearty laugh.

> "Hoho~ You cheeky little brat. First time I've heard someone say they'd rather fight gods than choose immortality. You think more like the Demon Lord than a Hero... Well, that's not so bad either."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

> "Since I left the Royal Order of Knights, I haven't seen many young folks. Maybe it's just the effect of old age. Either way, get ready. Tomorrow we're heading to the capital to get you a sword and some gear. Time to start your training—you'll help this old man defend the village from monsters and bandits."

The boy grinned.

> "But Grandpa, there aren't any monsters you can't defeat. They drop dead in one swing of your sword. And no bandits dare approach the village with you here. Don't you think we should train deeper in the forest?"

The old man raised an eyebrow.

> "You're not wrong. But can you take on those wolves with your bare fists?"

The boy hesitated.

> "They're weak. I can take them one-on-one. But they attack in packs—ten, fifteen at a time. They use weird fire spells from all angles. I can't beat them in a group."

> "Then train more. When you think you can handle them, I'll let you venture deeper. Deal?"

> "Deal!"

> "Good. Now go rest. We leave for the capital at first light."

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