“I see you found the best lookout for this village,” Osamu said.
“I guess I have,” I said.
I turned around to see the view the old man was talking about and saw a beautiful scene. The sun painted the sky as it slowly faded from view. The sound of the family’s laughter echoed throughout the land, and the flowers colored the ground with purple and red. The green mountain reminded me of my grandparents' town, and the heat reminded me of summer as a child, having no worries about life. Back then, I never wondered about the meaning of it all and whether or not getting home even meant anything. There's nothing there for me back where I once lived, and there’s nothing here either.
“You know, I come up here to ponder my long life here. I was born in 1944 and was only 16 when I was sent to this world. This land was hell. I was dropped right in the middle of the first human and demon war. I was summoned to be the hero of their people and told to dispose of the Demon King. And that’s what I did. I built a group that would help me.
First, the best ranger in the world, he was a tall, pale, and skinny elf. He had beautiful golden hair that glimmered in both moonlight and sunlight.
Second, the strongest warrior in the land, who could split the heavens with his mighty axe—and he was one hell of a blacksmith.
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And finally, the brains—she always kept up with our money and how to strike the heart of the demon lord's army. She was also quite the beauty back in the day.”
The old man slapped his knee after saying that and let out a bit of a laugh.
“We fought hard those days, and when we pushed into the demon's land, we realized why the demon fought as hard as they did. They may have been demons, but they weren’t all evil. There were families without fathers, sons, brothers, or husbands because war takes from everything it touches, no matter who they are or what it is. They all were so skinny you could see the bones, and corpses lined the streets.”
The old man took a long smoke from his pipe, and I took a drag from my flask.
“I was no hero; I was a puppet killing for a land I knew little of and a war I was forced into. We made it to the Demon King, and he looked like a normal man. He had dark, bloodshot eyes. He looked more like a pauper than a king. Skinny like the rest and looked sick. The king raised his head and gave a faint smile.
“So you must be the hero's party. You have destroyed the plans I had made and destroyed my most powerful commanders. And now you’re here for my head. I know my name will be scorned for the evils I have done, but I did it all for my people. We had nothing and would have died with nothing. At least I tried.” The king stood staring at each of us.
“I am ready for death, oh brave hero. Because in the end, we are both doing what we must to help save our country,” the king said.
I drew my sword with shaking hands, and with one great blow, I cut his head off clean. There was nothing triumphant about the scene, more like a release of pressure for a single man. Well, when we got back home, the people cheered for us like heroes. Later on, the second Human and Demon War happened, but we avoided it because we made this town. It originally was to get away from the kingdom, but more and more people who needed a safe place came here. I’m sorry for all the rumblings, but I felt like pontificating about the past.”
He sat on the rock next to me with his legs crossed and his cane across his lap. We sat there in silence and warmth, watching over the land that this man paid for with his blood and sweat.
