Shirou's Grand Heroic Saga

"Yeah, I heard he'd lived for many years, yet he hadn't aged at all. Isn't that terrifying? Let's go."

Author's note:

I got stuck again today == and I still have exams.

Suddenly feeling awful.

Saber and Gord

Once, there had been a hero—a great hero who slew dragons.

The prince of Nederland. Brave and noble, his majestic appearance was praised by all, and he won countless honors.

Men flocked to him and became his followers, while women devoted their steadfast love to him.

The hero fulfilled their expectations as well.

He had almost no time to rest, only constantly seeking battle. No, it was not that he sought battle; battle simply never let go of him and his great power.

He obtained the Sword of Fantasy from Nibelungen, bathed in the blood of the evil dragon Fafnir, and gained a body that was nearly invincible. Everyone had glorious times and bleak ones, but for him, there was no bleakness—only brilliance, dazzling beyond compare.

Whenever people asked him for help, he acted.

Even if it was a corrupt official who had enriched himself, tearfully claiming that his family had been killed, he avenged him.

As for villagers struggling on the edge of poverty, they were ignored simply because they had not made a request.

Because otherwise, it would never end. It was impossible to gather everything in the world within his own arms. So whenever someone asked, he responded. He had simply held to that decision.

But in the course of it all, the hero suddenly realized that this was not what he had wanted. Many of those he helped should never have received his aid, while the villagers who had failed to voice their pleas were the ones who truly deserved his strength.

Until one day, the king made