When James was a child, being a hero was as simple as being the cops versus the robber, the cowboy versus the Indian. As he grew, the concept evolved. Being a hero was the work of a moment. It was taking a bullet for someone else or running into a burning building to save a child.

  Older still, heroism became harder to imagine and harder to define. It was joining a protest for a minority he didn’t belong to. It was keeping an eye on the mental health of his friends. It was more nuanced and less flashy, and was it even heroism anymore, or just decency?

  What James faced now made him feel like a child again. Take up a holy sword and fight against the Demon King. It was easy, straightforward, black and white. Protect the child. Save the woman. Conquer evil.

  That should have been a relief. It should have made everything easier, yet the opposite was true. Simplicity brought with it higher stakes. At a peaceful protest, he didn’t risk his life. In Grimora, he seemed to bounce from one life-threatening battle to the next, and there was only more to come.

  No matter what he did, though, Desiree was locked in. She’d already gained the Demon Slayer class, and even if he chose not to fight, she would go on without him. She hadn’t just committed him to this war, she’d committed herself too in the process.

  James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As frightening as it all was, he would just have to get past it. This was his chance to be someone, and if he threw it away, he would never forgive himself.

  He straightened his shoulders and met Inara’s gaze. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.”

  She smiled softly, then quickly schooled her expression. “I’ll join you, of course.”

  “I never expected you to let her go without you.”

  “No, I don’t think I could bear it.”

  The two sat in stiff silence for a moment longer. James finally felt like he was coming to terms with this new life and the new expectations that the world had for him. Part of him was even excited about it. What little boy didn’t dream of a grand adventure? Here he was, finally experience magic and danger!

  He smiled a little at the thought of how excited the ten year old version of himself would be. Maybe he could even start a life here. He knew enough about electricity that he could make a name for himself, revolutionize the community and be remembered not just for his exploits against the Demon King but for the changes he made after that.

  “There’s more,” said Inara.

  “Huh?” James was daydreaming about James Day, a holiday that lasted centuries into the future.

  “Every Hero is given quests they must complete. Most receive ten or twenty, but it varies greatly. Once, there was a Hero who had to complete one thousand quests.” She shook her head at the impossibility of it.

  James swallowed. He had to force the question out. “What happens if I complete all the quests?”

  “Each quest grants rewards and additional power. It is said that the rewards of the quests are what give the Heroes the tools they need to defeat evil. Should the Hero complete every quest…” She paused.

  James leaned forward, intent. “Yes?”

  “Should the Hero complete every quest, he will be teleported back home.”

  James let out a low whistle. Now that was some motivation. His life back home, while not anything special, was still his. He made enough money to live comfortably, and he called his mom every Saturday. Maybe when he got back, he could get a pet. Something that would be okay with him being gone for long shifts. Or he could join a club, try and make some real friends. He could finally take a pottery class or buy a camera and learn photography, or anything at all that got him out of the house and involved with other people.

  He could recognize, now, how isolated he’d been and how much that had affected his mental health. In Grimora he had a healthy body, and that made a difference, too.

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  Going back home would give him a second chance at life.

  James rose to his feet, and Inara quickly followed suit. “Let’s head back,” he said.

  She simply nodded, and they took off. The silence between them took on a new energy, crackling with determination.

  “The first thing we’ll want to do,” James said as they got closer to the town square, “is talk to Brother Clyde. I need to know more about his abilities.”

  “He’s right over here.” Inara led him through the crowd. Villagers reached out and tried to speak with them, but she was able to silence most of them with a look.

  James had to admire that. He’d always been a bit of a pushover, and if not for her he’d have gotten bogged down shaking every hand and answering every question, even if the majority of what he had to say was, “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” Instead, they carved an easy path through the crowd.

  Brother Clyde stood with his hand on a boy’s forehead, praying. James noticed that the boy’s health bar was somewhat depleted — many of the villagers had been hurt by the magma demons’ aura. When the prayer completed, the boy’s health returned to full, and he ran off. A line of wounded villagers waited for their turn, but Clyde waved James and Inara forward.

  “You have a wonderful ability,” James said. “The people here are lucky to have you.” What would it be like to have a healer all the time? How much of a difference would it make to their combat strategy if they knew that every turn, their health could be restored?

  Brother Clyde bowed his head modestly. “I only do as the goddess wishes. It is her power which flows through me, and I am naught but a conduit.”

  “Of course,” James answered easily. He looked out over the crowd. There were so many wounded people. “Would you be willing to join my party?” he asked anyway. It was worth a shot, and a healer would be an incredible asset to the team.

  Brother Clyde’s expression immediately turned regretful. “The goddess would not wish for me to leave the village,” he explained. “One moment.”

  The man knelt, right in the middle of the square, and bowed his head. He clasped his hands together and prayed to his goddess for guidance.

  James watched, uncomfortable. His own experiences with religion had been more about faith than works, but it seemed as though Grimora’s goddess played by a different set of rules. He was a bit of a skeptic, so he kept in mind that Holy Magic was similar to his Mana Bolt — certainly magical but not necessarily deific — but he also had to admit that it would be nice if there really was a goddess out there, empowering her faithful servants to heal others and protect the weak.

  A spotlight came down from the sky and coated Brother Clyde with heavenly light. A truly skeptical man would have said that it was merely a trick of the clouds drifting apart at just the right moment, but even James had to admit that there was an awe-inspiring feeling to the moment. He really believed that the goddess was speaking with Brother Clyde.

  A hush fell over the square as the people watched. Many villagers bowed their head in kind, and even Inara rested her palm against her heart.

  By the time Brother Clyde rose to his feet and the glow faded away, the entire square had gone silent. He smiled peacefully at James, as though he had just awoken from a very nice nap.

  He lifted an amulet from around his neck and held it out to James.

  “I cannot go with you,” he said, “but I can give you this. The goddess will recharge its power with every sunrise, and it may be used once a day.”

  James took the amulet and was surprised to see a slight tremor in his hands. If there were gods and goddesses in this world… well it made sense. The existence of demons hinted at the opposite, but what did that mean for him? Such beings would be well beyond his own abilities.

  For now, he would simply be grateful that she seemed to be on his side. He took a closer look at the amulet. It was a simple pendant on a leather cord, circular in shape and carved with an image of the goddess.

  Serelune’s Blessing

  An amulet lovingly worn by a faithful priest. Fully heals your entire party. Can be used once per day.

  James whistled. Full heal of the entire party was nothing to sneeze at. It wouldn’t be as helpful as an actual healer, but it was far better than nothing. And he still had about ten apples in his inventory, which should tide them over. Not to mention his one remaining health potion, which should only be used in an emergency.

  James hung the amulet — which was surprisingly heavy — around his neck and tucked it underneath his shirt.

  “Thank you,” he said to Brother Clyde, then asked his next burning question. “Where did these demons come from?”

  The priest sighed. “There is a dungeon not far from here. Adventuring parties used to come through and cull the monsters which spawn there, but since the Demon King began his rise to power, those adventurers have become more scarce.”

  James furrowed his brow. “Shouldn’t the opposite be true? With the Demon King on the rise, shouldn’t more people take up arms to stop him?”

  Brother Clyde shook his head sadly. “The goddess has told me that the Demon King sacrifices adventurers to summon his evil minions. In doing so, he both weakens our forces and strengthens his own.” He lowered his voice. “There are also rumors that some have chosen to join the demons rather than risk their lives in battle against him.”

  Inara let out a small gasp at that.

  James only nodded. Unfortunately, it made sense. In every conflict, no matter how clearly cruel the other side, there would always be some who supported it. Whether because they wanted to be on what they perceived as the winning team or because their hearts were filled with hate, it didn’t matter. The result was the same.

  “This dungeon,” James said. “Where is it?”

  Brother Clyde pointed. “Be careful, Hero.”

  James shrugged and hefted his sword onto his shoulder, the way he’d seen people do in video games. “How hard could it be?”