Chapter 4: A Test of Goodness

Perched on a bluff, Damon had a commanding view of the sleepy, remote town tucked away in the valley underneath. Tension was in the air as the sun was sinking, illuminating the surroundings in an unsettling orange hue. His red eyes narrowed as he heard the system's repetitive voice reverberating through his head.

"Task: Prevent Eldoria village from being destroyed. Reward: Improvement of magical and physical strength. Severe retribution awaits those who disobey."

With a scowl on his lips, Damon sneered. "Preserve a community? You must be joking with me.

The usual tug of resistance in his chest arose every time the system attempted to push him into some heroic action. It was as if the very core of him shrank at the idea of doing something that even vaguely qualified as "good." However, he was drawn to the prospect of having power-ups. Something dark and menacing was making its way toward the settlement, and he sensed it would be worth his while to investigate.

Damon said, "Fine," his tone brimming with contempt. "I'll save them, but only because I see a way to turn this situation to my advantage."

He then opened his arms wide and, with a sudden surge of dark force, he jumped from the cliff and landed softly in the town square. His abrupt and alarming entrance surprised the locals, who were already on edge about the potential threat. Their big eyes gazed at him, some of them drooping and squatting in terror.

Damon disregarded their pathetic performance. He yelled, "Listen up!" as his voice boomed throughout the square. "Fortunately for all of you, I'm here to handle this serious peril that faces you all. Tell me what's going to happen now, and stop wasting my time with your whining."

Trembling hands, an old man, obviously the village elder, walked forward. "It's the Shadow Beasts, my lord. After weeks of tormenting the area, they are now directly aimed at us. Against them, we have no chance."

Damon had a curious look in his eyes. The creatures known as Shadow Beasts were not your typical monsters; they were the lingering effects of evil magic, spawned out of the nightmares and anxieties of the living. Although killing them wouldn't be simple, it would undoubtedly bring about significant benefits. He could almost feel the power blast that was about to hit him.

Damon responded, "Very well," in a detached and calculating tone. "I'll take care of your small issue, but please don't assume that I'm acting kindly. You owe me money, and I'll get paid when it's due."

With a mixture of relief and trepidation, the people mumbled to one another. Although they disliked the thought of owing money to such a frightening person, they were left with little options.

Damon stopped wasting time on small talk. He could already feel the Shadow Beasts closing in, their sinister energy dispersing across the village's surrounding woodland like a poisonous mist. With a gesture of his hand, he moved ahead and created a barrier of dim flames around the village—enough to temporarily keep the animals at bay.

He said, "Stay behind the barrier if you value your lives," before turning and making his way directly into the forest and out of the settlement.

The surroundings grew darker as he descended farther. The limbs of the bent trees resembled skeleton hands, grasping at the sky. Damon grinned as he sensed the Shadow Beasts' evil energy intensifying. He thrived on challenges much like this one.

The first of the Shadow Beasts appeared out of the darkness as the earth rocked suddenly. It was a huge, wolf-like monster with fur composed of shifting, swirling shadows that gave the appearance of life. Its eyes radiated hope a horrible green glow as a caustic black liquid seeped from its jaws.

Damon remained unfazed. With a taunting tone, "Come on, then," he felt a black force crackle about his fingertips. "Let's see what you're made of."

With horrifying speed, the beast pounced at him, but Damon outran it. He released a burst of black flames with a simple wrist flick, enveloping the beast. The creature let out a wail of agony, its shape wavering as the fire ate into it, yet it was not easily defeated. It roared back, slamming claws that might have torn through steel at Damon.

Damon maneuvered with ease, his motions accurate and flowing. "Is that all you got?" he said in jest, then raised his hand to conjure a sword of pure shadow. In a single, quick blow, he cut the beast in half with his knife. Damon breathed in the cloud of black smoke that the monster had dissolved into, taking its evil force into himself.

His strength and magical talents were developing as the system rewarded him for his performance, and he could feel the power rising through him. However, before he could celebrate his win, a larger number of Shadow Beasts than he had predicted sprang out of the shadows.

Damon exclaimed, "So, there's more of you," in an animated voice. "All right. I might not want to waste my time on this."

As the conflict persisted, Damon faced several waves of Shadow Beasts. His strength increased with each one he vanquished, but his physical condition was starting to suffer. In spite of his strength, the creatures were unrelenting, and Damon had to admit they were a problem.

After what seemed like hours, Damon defeated the last of the Shadow Beasts and stood by himself in the clearing. Despite his bruises and wounds, the power pulsing through his veins was euphoric. He could sense the system's amplification, his powers considerably greater than they had been previously.

However, the villagers were waiting for him at the outside of the barrier, their faces beaming with appreciation as he turned to leave the woodland. They had been watching the whole fight from a distance, and Damon was a hero to them.

"Thank you, my lord!" The older person sobbed out, lowering himself on his knees in adoration. "You've got us all covered! We will always be grateful to you!"

Damon's face became serious. With a cold, acerbic voice, he said, "I didn't do it for you." "This is not to be seen as benevolence. I merely took the necessary actions."

Still, the peasants paid little attention. They erupted in applause and cheers, praising him as their savior. The term "hero" kept coming up, and Damon could feel it scratching his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"Hero?" he snarled, balling his hands. "I'm not a hero. I am a devil. A bad guy."

But in spite of his objections, the people went on to honor his acts without realizing what his true objectives were. A wave of anger surged through Damon, but it was quickly eclipsed by a strange, alien sensation that made him feel far more uneasy than the fighting had.

Was it remorse? Feel remorse? It is not possible. He shook his head, attempting to push away the uncomfortable feelings that were threatening to seep into his heart. He was the creature of gloom and devastation, the Demon King. He didn't need these helpless, unimportant mortals' praise or thanks.

Nevertheless, Damon couldn't get rid of the sensation that something had altered inside of him as he turned to leave the hamlet behind—something he wasn't sure he could ever totally control.

The villagers' applause trailed off as he left, leaving Damon alone with his thoughts. The name they had given him carried just as much weight as the immense power he had gained.

"Hero," he said to himself, the word leaving a sour aftertaste.

And Damon wondered, for the first time in his long life, just what it meant to be a villain.