Demons differed from the Demon Race and humans. Born from malice, most lacked self-awareness—an ancient shadow lingering since the world’s dawn.
Dorothy was surprised such a demon could be summoned into the city. Demons were exceedingly rare; even actively seeking one proved difficult.
But this demon was only Third Rank. She felt no worry leaving it to Celia and the others.
After two months of training, she knew even if they couldn’t defeat it, the gap wouldn’t be vast. The battle’s clamor would surely draw other Heroes. No matter how powerful, the demon would be eradicated.
As for her—more pressing matters demanded attention.
The first Scorpion Demon’s appearance might be dismissed as coincidence. But this second wave of monsters? No longer accidental.
Realization struck. Dorothy crooked her finger. Mana surged in the air, crystallizing into silver-white threads floating before her.
The threads clustered thickest near Vedona’s spatial rift. Many snaked from the rift, coiling around the Third Rank monsters like marionettes.
Beyond these, fainter threads bled from the rift and monsters alike—all converging on a single point.
An amusement park?
Dorothy tugged her hood lower and raced toward the convergence.
Rain and monsters had emptied the park. Rides glistened wet under the downpour, draped with withered leaves from nearby trees—a desolate stillness hung in the air.
Silver threads streamed from every direction, pooling beneath the Ferris wheel.
There stood a man in a black robe.
Threads wrapped his body. The truth was undeniable: he orchestrated the monsters’ arrival.
Dorothy’s approach alerted him. Before she could act, he vanished into the rain-mist.
But raw power prevailed. She cornered him in an alley outside the park.
A mana-forged longsword materialized in her grip. Its tip pressed against his throat. "You summoned these monsters?" Her voice was ice.
Rain pattered against the blade. Flickering lamplight revealed half his face—a plain, middle-aged man easily lost in a crowd.
Silence stretched. He licked dry lips, voice rasping: "...Silver Blossom Sword Maiden?"
Hearing her title, Dorothy’s pupils contracted. The sword pressed forward—a bead of blood welled where the tip pierced his skin.
She hadn’t hidden her identity obsessively, yet few knew it. How did he?
*Sharin?*
She dismissed the thought. Ten years of watching her rise from ordinary Hero to Guild President—Sharin wouldn’t betray her.
"Heh. So you *are* in this city."
Reading her shock, the man grinned—a feverish flush of fanaticism beneath the rain.
"What do you want?"
"Rumors placed the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden in Vedona. As your admirer, I had to find you."
Dorothy’s brow furrowed. Suspicion of Sharin evaporated. A traitor wouldn’t phrase it as mere rumor.
"Summoning monsters to attack a city? No true admirer would do that. The Fourth Rank demon earlier—was that your doing too?"
"You wrong me. Summoning these Third Ranks was my limit."
Unfazed by the blade at his throat, his grin widened upon confirming her identity.
Then he sighed.
"Pity, Elder Silverflower. Your mana... it’s faded. No wonder you vanished from the public eye these twenty years."
"Tortured in the Demon King’s Castle? Poor thing. Otherwise, humanity’s strongest Hero might have reached the Ninth Rank by now."
Old wounds bled at his words, yet Dorothy’s face remained impassive. "What’s your point?"
"After twenty years—have you seen how they speak of you now? Don’t you crave strength again?"
"From humanity’s strongest to forgotten relic... are you content letting new Heroes trample you underfoot?"
He thrust out a trembling hand. Rain slicked his hair, moistened cracked lips, baring his fervor.
"Join us! Gain new power. Reclaim your title as humanity’s strongest! This time, not even the Demon King could stand against you!"
The roar of battle echoed from afar. Magical lights illuminated the dark night. Faint screams of humans cut through the downpour.
Ecstasy lit his face—not just from others’ suffering, but from saving his idol.
His fallen idol. Without his hand, she’d drown in darkness, abandoned by those she once saved.
How tragic.
The savior of countless souls... forgotten by all but him.
*Answer yes, Elder Silverflower!*
Fanatical heat flushed his pale cheeks. He stared, breathless, at the face he barely recognized anymore.
Dorothy’s reply shattered him.
"My era ended long ago. Reveal your organization and purpose—I might spare your life."
He froze. Her words gutted his faith.
"Your era is over? Elder... have you surrendered?"
Calm now, he asked again. Dorothy stayed silent.
Silence was answer enough. He stared at the sword at his throat, chuckling hollowly.
"I should’ve known. You’re not the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden I revered. Why else vanish for twenty years..."
Dorothy’s lashes lowered. Regret flickered within.
She wasn’t that Sword Maiden anymore. Ambition had faded. She only wished to leave the past behind and live quietly.
Those who still clung to her memory... they’d be disappointed.
"You squandered your only chance to live, Elder Silverflower. This city will be your grave. Humanity will forget you completely."
He lifted his head, eyes locking with hers.
The fanaticism had died. Only ashen gray desolation remained. His skin seemed to wither decades in seconds.
"No. They’ll forget *this* version of you."
A final smile. Blood suddenly seeped from his lips. His body crumpled backward.
He hit the rain-puddled ground with a heavy splash. Water bloomed like a flower around him, then settled, gathering around his still form.
Rain washed the blood away. His face stayed unnaturally pale.
Dorothy dispelled her sword. He was dead—by his own hand.
She stood motionless in the rain.
No admirer had ever looked at her with such shattered hope. It felt like a knife twisting in her chest—a pain that begged for proof she still mattered.
But what could she prove?
The past was truly gone.
For her. For them all.
Her black robe shielded her from the rain. Only the silver hair falling to her chest grew damp.
The distant battle ended. Magical lights and roars faded. Night reclaimed its silence.
After a long while, she pulled out her communicator. Ignoring the flood of messages, she opened Sharin’s contact. As the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden, she reported what had happened.
