It was a conflict as old as time itself, it was the constant battle between gods and devils, angels and demons. Caught in the middle were humans, though not as powerful as either gods or devils, they did prove to be the deciding factor in the war. But the greatest key to either side's victory was the hero, an entity that could rival gods and devils. Summoned through a ritual that required many powerful magicians, the heroes of the past had marked the ages they arrived in with hope, though with one exception.

Knowing this, the paranoid Count Charles opposed the summoning of the hero, against all other nobles and the king. Being a generous ruler, Tyrannous Crossfield overlooked the Count's opposition and continued on with the support of the other nobles. Though powerful, heroes weren't summoned often, mainly due to how much power is needed for the summoning, but also due to the long periods of peace that the world experienced. With the only exceptions being that of mortal wars for expansion. The Mazarick Kingdom used to partake a lot in expansion, however, after his father passed away and having seen the state of his people, Tyrannous put an end to the wars.

Now, with the threat of demons on the horizon, as more sightings are reported, the kingdom could no longer focus solely on improving the state of the land and its people. It had to deal with the greater threat. Gathered in the capital, many nobles came to witness the hero being summoned. A grand magic circle was created on marvel platform in the main hall, surrounded by four large magic stones that were equally spaced and supplied the needed mana to summon the hero. A brilliant light radiated from the circle, it was as though the goddess reached down and gently placed the hero before them, of course, Count Charles wasn't there to see any of this. No, instead he was at his manor, planning for the worse.

The only problem was that the worse didn't come, the hero was off training, engulfed in the new world around them. The troops were getting tired of the Count's paranoid orders, having them reinforce taxes and work unreasonable, that's not even to mention the constant training. Still, money is money, and they were getting paid, so they begrudging continued on. Eventually, tired of waiting for the hero to do something, Charles took the first move and struck against the hero, or at least he hoped to. The assassin he hired failed to kill the hero, the poison he crafted failed to kill the hero, the dark mage's curse failed to kill the hero, the framing of the hero failed as well, and for all that happened, though there was no proof, everyone knew who was responsible.

Thus he earned the nickname Count Villainous, though no one ever said that to his face. The hero on the other hand, upon learning who it was that had been making things difficult for them, decided to confront him. That is why, on one sunny afternoon while the Count was brewing a new scheme, the door to his manor was met with a knock. He ignored it, as he had servants to deal with those small details of life. However, when one of the maids walked in, clearly nervous, his attention was finally drawn away from his work.

"What is it?" Charles said with a short temper.

"My lord, it's a visitor."

"Unless it is the king I do not care who it is, send them away."

"It's... the hero, my lord." The breaker the Count held was dropped and shattered into pieces on the ground.

"What?" His voice raised after that. "You allowed the hero into my manor?! What of the guards?! Where are they?!"

The maid had lowered her head, scared to look him in the eye. "They're at their normal post, sir."

The man was enraged and stormed out of his laboratory and marched to find the hero. Waiting with a cup of tea, the hero sat on one of the couches placed in the visitor room. That was until the doors were thrown open and the Count appeared arms with a blade. However, instead of charging in further, Charles stopped, confused at the sight of a long blond haired girl, who appeared to be in her teens, and was in nothing more than an evening dress. The girl placed down the tea and walked calmly over to the man.

"Who are you?! Where is the hero?!"

As strange as it was, out of everyone in the kingdom, the person who wanted the hero dead was the only person who did not know what the hero looked like. He was so disillusioned by his own image of the hero that he didn't even think they would be human, let alone a teen girl. He perceived the hero as some sort of demon, a monster that would destroy the kingdom from within, an idea he was not about to abandon just because the hero was seemingly a girl.

Speaking of said girl, she crossed her arms and looked at him annoyed. "If you don't recognize me then I'll assume you also don't know my name. I'm May Hemlock, the hero you've been trying to kill."

"Now I get it." The hero was about to be surprised until he continued. "You've tempted the court with your body, you vile temptress!"

"Temptress?!" May staggered back. "And what do you mean by tempted them?! I haven't done anything like that!"

"You cannot trick me demoness! I will expose you for what you truly are today!"

"Expose me?! Would you just-" She took a deep breath and calmed down. "Look, I came here wanting to bury the hatchet, but clearly you're too insane to get that."

"You mean to bury me!"

"Would you just listen?! That isn't what I said, and on top of that, why would I come here to bury you if I actually did have the count tempted? No answer?" She started to march out. "Forget it, clearly you are insane." She turned back only to yelled one final thing before leaving. "Just leave me only you crazy old man!"

Though the hero was the one to stagger, the Count found himself somewhat frozen in place. An extremely small part, greatly overshadowed by the paranoia, knew what the hero was saying made sense. In between those two was the part of him that was a noble and was still processing the fact that he was just called a crazy old man. He wasn't even in his forties, and he definitely wasn't crazy. At least he believed he wasn't crazy. Now with the hero gone and the thoughts processed, the Count stormed back to his laboratory. Believing he now knew how the hero was controlling the others, he worked on a mixture that would remove the temptation they were under.

Hours became days, and days became weeks, in that time the staff and the people grew tired of the Count's actions. It came to the point that all those that worked in the manor left, and the guards began to slack on their duties. The king, who had been turning a blind eye, upon seeing the state of the Count's domain, sent a notice that went unheard. Charles would have to stop the deterioration and collect the taxes he had missed. With not even a response and seeing the land become unruly, the king went with his personal troops to secure the land and drag out the Count. The man was completely unkempt, his hair had grown past his shoulders and was a mess, the stench that came from him was like that of a decaying corpse, and the lack of eating made him almost appear as a skeleton.

"My lord?" Charles ghostly spoke as he looked up to the king from the ground.

"How far have you fallen to allow such a state to occur? Look at yourself." Tyrannous gestured to the Count. "This is not the appearance befitting of a Count, neither are the actions and inactions you have taken ever since the summoning."

"My lord, please let me explain, the hero-"

"Silence!" The king raised his voice, a rare event which scared the Count. "This has nothing to do with the hero, it has to do with the state of the realm which has been damaged by your madness."

"Madness?"

"Yes, madness, which is why I'm revoking your title as Count."

Charles' eyes widened. "But, but sir-"

"The decision is final Charles, at least leave with whatever dignity you have left."

To say that Charles was wounded by the event would be to make light of it. Even after leaving and days had gone by, the words of the king would repeat in his head as if they had just been spoken. There was little more he could do besides think about that moment. The look in the king's eyes had no demonic evil that lingered in the background, neither did he was ill will in his voice, in fact, both were sorrowful.

Charles, now coming to terms with the words of the others, broke down by a lake. Looking at his reflection in the water he saw a face he did not recognize, it was then he started to see how truly warp his vision was. He had seen himself as well dressed, combed, and clean back at the manor, but the king was right, this appearance was not befitting a Count.

Unable to find work, Charles had found himself in the forest, hoping to find food. For now, he would settle with a wash in the lake to clean himself up. Not even a minute after putting his clothes back on he heard a scream in the distance. Rushing over, he found an elven girl, a rare sight, collapsed on the ground with a group of men approaching her. They were clearly an undesirable bunch, no doubt bandits from the way they dressed.

In total there were four, armed with either short swords or daggers. With the element of surprise, Charles moved in a struck down one of the men carrying a sword. It was an exhilarating feeling that he had not felt in a long time. He was somewhat rusty, but while the younger bandits moved quickly, Charles dealt lethal bows at each and every one of their openings.

Once the fighting was over, he walked over to the elven girl who appeared to have fainted. There wasn't much he could do for her, but leaving her there was out of the question. Still, with no safe home to take her to and no one to rely on, Charles thought at length about what to do. When a passing thought came up, he gulped. He had heard much about the hero when he passed through towns, and as it were, the hero was staying in a city not far from where they currently were on a day off from training.

The only problem was that Charles did not know how the hero would respond, they did not exactly start or end on the right foot. Looking down at the girl, he noticed her shiver. With little he could do, he put all other thoughts to the side and focused on getting the girl to someplace safe, even if that place involved the hero.

"I saved her from a party of bandits, I know this is weird, but I didn't know who else to go to." Charles said, standing in the doorway, carrying in elven girl while the hero looked at him with a questioning stare.

"Fine, bring her in." Charles took a hesitant step in. "Place her on the bed over there." After he did so, May placed the back on her hand on the girl's head. "She doesn't seem to have a fever, she should be fine." She then got up to leave the house.

"W-where are you going?"

The hero turned back, "To get you both some clothes, no offense, but your current ones smell and both of them are ripped in areas."

She wasn't wrong, his clothes did still retain a great deal of the smell he had hoped to wash off, and both his and the girl's clothes were not in the best of shape. A bit surprised by her hospitality, Charles was then quick to remind himself of the past after she had left. He was about to leave in case she tried anything, but after leaving, he thought, there was no place for him to go. He had lost his place in the world and was now no more than a wandering homeless man. So even if the hero was up to something, it wasn't as though he should care, there was nothing more he could do. Looking back to the elven girl, he decided to pull up a chair beside her and await the future ahead.