>>281392288EVER SINCE I WAS LITTLE, I dreamed of being a hero. Old tales from
my father and my grandmother were my inspiration there, as you mightโve
guessed. From my father, I heard the legend of North God Kalman, the
little-known champion. From my grandmother, I heard the legend of the
fearful demon king named Atoferatofe. Together, it was the tale of a
champion and a demon king. A demon king was born powerful, was a ruler,
and had no peer when it came to viciousness. A champion was born weak
but overcame many trials to strike down the vicious demon king. North God
Kalman and Atoferatofe embodied this idealized pairing. My father told me
how precious that connection between champion and demon king was.
North God Kalman the champion wasnโt strong, by any means. Possessing
slightly more skill than most, heโd set up his own school, but he was still
never anything more than a commonplace warrior. Despite that, he waged a
hopeless war for peace. That was the sort of era it was. He couldnโt have
lived with himself otherwise. The only reason they called him a hero was
because he faced the final battle and survived it. No one would have
remembered his name if he hadnโt. Having said that, the fightโthe Laplace
Warโwas such a terrible war that just surviving could be counted as an
achievement. Many people fought and died ugly deaths in that war. Human,
beast, elf, dwarf, halfling, or demon, they all died. That meant everyone
who survived was great, or so my father said. He told me it was a time
when you needed all your strength and your wits just to survive. My
grandmother seemed to agree with him. My grandmother didnโt die in the
battle, but she was sealed away partway through. โWhat would you call
those who achieved the great feat of ending the war in such an era, if not
heroes?โ my father would say passionately.