What happens when the Demon King is defeated?
Will the world be at peace, and the hero remembered as a hero?
***
Noir Valenhardt and his party had defeated the Demon King after ten long years filled with blood, tears, and countless losses.
They traveled across continents, pierced through the infernal castle, and paid a heavy price for this victory.
The Kingdom of Aetherion held the grandest celebration in its history. The capital, Solheim, was filled with thousands of people cheering, dancing, and singing songs of triumph.
The streets were covered in flower petals, and floating lanterns lit up the night sky. The cheers echoed through the city, known as the Liberation Festival, a celebration of the end of the dark era and the death of the Demon King.
Meanwhile...
Noir and his party sat together in the royal hall. A long table was filled with luxurious dishes—roasted meat from the Salvaria mountains, rare wine from the Lyra valley, and silver sweets from the East.
They were truly welcomed with great honor. Noir and his party looked at each other and exchanged smiles of relief and joy.
In addition to them, others were present too.
King Edric Solaris III, ruler of Aetherion, known for his charisma and cunning. His face was adorned with a polite smile.
General Velkar Thorne, the highest-ranking military commander of Aetherion. He was the strongest man in the kingdom after the hero's party. His contributions were indisputable.
Grand Princess Seraphina Solaris, heir to the throne and chief diplomat of Aetherion. A woman of rare beauty, with skin as white as snow.
Archbishop Maelien Dross, head of the Church of Light, wielding influence almost equal to that of the king. Though he was 85 years old, he still walked and worked actively on his own.
And lastly, Nivalen Gun, royal advisor and keeper of the highest arcane knowledge—the mastermind behind the kingdom's magical defenses. He was also the headmaster of the Voltmagus Magic Academy.
The king rose to his feet.
"You are the hero who saved the world, Sir Noir." He bowed slightly in respect. "We are deeply grateful. As such, I will bestow upon you the grand title of Duke of Aetherion."
Applause filled the hall. Noir stood and bowed respectfully.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best."
Afterward, he sat down again. The king proceeded to bestow noble titles and positions upon the four other members of the hero's party.
Each of them received high ranks and noble honors. They all smiled—their ten years of sacrifice had finally paid off.
After a brief moment of royal wisdom, the king returned to his seat, still wearing that charming, gentle smile.
He raised his glass of ale.
"A toast to the victory of the Hero's Party!" he declared.
Everyone raised their glasses.
"For the heroes!" they shouted in unison.
***
That night, they drank a massive amount of beer. Some vomited, others collapsed unconscious. The palace servants quickly carried them to their rooms.
"I shall escort you," said one of the servants politely.
Noir waved his hand slowly. "No need. I can still walk."
With wobbly steps and a slightly unsteady body, Noir rose, turned around, and headed back to his room.
He barely made a few steps before nearly falling, but he kept walking.
Slowly, he made his way through the hallway. His room was quite far away, located in a corner wing.
But then... something felt off—he saw the shadowy figures of Velkar Thorne and Archbishop Maelien Dross, walking briskly with several fully armored soldiers.
Noir's brows furrowed. They weren't heading to their own rooms. Instead... they were heading toward the rooms of the hero party.
"Why are they going there?" Noir wondered.
He quietly followed them. Their pace was fast, as if in a hurry. Noir almost lost them, but managed to catch up just in time.
And then he was stunned. Velkar and Maelien were standing in front of Violet's room—the main mage of the hero's party.
"What are they doing at Violet's room?"
Noir approached. Just as he was about to ask, they suddenly entered the room and shut the door behind them.
His heartbeat doubled. He rushed toward the door and tried to open it, but it was locked from the inside.
Panic crept into his chest. He shoved the door forcefully, but it didn't budge.
"Damn it. What's going on? Why are they in Violet's room?" Dark thoughts raced through his mind.
"Open up, bastards!" he shouted.
He channeled magic into his hand, trying to destroy the door—when a voice echoed behind him.
"You're not supposed to be here."
Noir turned sharply. Nivalen Gun, the royal advisor, stood before him. He wasn't alone. Four instructors from Voltmagus Academy stood beside him.
"Why are you all..."
In an instant, a massive magic seal flared in the air—blue and purple light spread, forming runes that wrapped around the hallway. The seal expanded until it engulfed the entire palace.
Noir's eyes widened. He recognized that magic. It was a high-level sealing spell, one that cut off all access to mana.
His body grew heavy. He realized with horror—he could no longer feel his mana.
"You should've stayed in your room," said Nivalen calmly. "Waiting for your death. But you came on your own."
Before Noir could react further, the soldiers lunged at him. Noir fought back with his bare hands—his battle instincts still sharp.
He managed to knock down one, two of them. But two others kept coming.
Nivalen stepped forward—and surprisingly, he could still use magic.
Nivalen raised his hand.
"Flame Destroyer!" he chanted.
Flames burst toward Noir. He tried to dodge, but one of the academy instructors he had knocked down grabbed his leg.
His movement was disrupted. The fire engulfed him. He was burned badly, his body scorched. He nearly collapsed.
"Why... are you doing this?" Noir asked.
Nivalen smiled. "You'll gain the people's hearts, and the king doesn't like that." He walked closer. "Besides, you're too powerful. If we don't eliminate you now, you could lead a coup."
Noir was stunned by the reason. To him, it was absurd. He and his party had never plotted any coup.
"You're making this up... what nonsense," Noir muttered.
"Believe what you want, but you must die." Nivalen raised his hand again. "Sword Light!"
A blade of light formed behind Noir, then pierced through his back.
Noir's body dropped instantly. Blood poured out of him. His vision blurred. A bitter smile formed on his lips.
"So... everything I did was for nothing."
His eyes slowly closed—but then something strange appeared in front of him. Something he had never seen before.
[Condition fulfilled.]
[Death confirmed.]
[Reincarnation sequence initializing…]
[Congratulations. You have been selected for reincarnation as: Skeleton.]