Hero of His Own Opinion

Some souls are granted a single lifetime to find their purpose. Others, like mine, are cursed with the irony of living many—each one a cruel joke played by fate. I have already worn two masks: first, the terrible crown of the Demon King, ruling through fear and ruin; second, the fragile skin of an ordinary mortal, trudging through a world that remembered my former glory with nothing but hatred. Now, a third act begins, and the stage is set for the greatest contradiction yet. I am to be reborn as a hero—a champion of justice, fighting to protect the very world I once sought to destroy. The universe, it seems, possesses a dark sense of humor. The bastard who once reveled in chaos, the psycho who painted battlefields red, is now expected to stand beneath banners of hope and shepherd a brighter future. But I have not forgotten who I am, nor what I have done. Though this new life offers redemption on a silver platter, I find myself unwilling to swallow the lie. Justice, goodness, righteousness—these are words crafted by victors, and I have been on both sides of that cruel coin. As a former Demon King, I hold my own opinion of what is right, and it does not align with the pretty hymns sung by saints. So let them call me hero. Let them place their faith in my sword and their prayers on my shoulders. They do not know that the man marching beside them still carries the scars of a thousand blackened oaths, nor that his definition of salvation may be sharper than their own. In a world that demands I play the part of savior, I will write my own script—one where the line between light and shadow blurs, and the only cause I truly serve is my own unyielding will. This third life is not about atonement. It is about proving that even a monster, if given enough chances, can decide what kind of story he wishes to tell.