by KindHumanity
At the age of forty, I finally took my first step to fulfill a promise that had long been delayed. But what awaited me was a world already in ruins—the scars left behind by the Demon King were far deeper than I had ever imagined. For ten years, I wandered the land, hunting the Demon King with a single resolve: to end the darkness he had unleashed. Yet in the end, death claimed me at the peak of our final battle. As my last breath slipped away, it was not death that I feared, but the burning regret within my soul. Why did I wait until now to keep that promise?
