Chapter 5: Where Are the Heroes? (2)
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The summer months in the Chaos Forest were always drenched in rain. As the chill settled in, leaves turned yellow and started to drift down, signaling the beginning of the forest’s three-month frost fest. Soon enough, the temperature would drop below freezing, and thick snow would blanket the ground, making even walking feel like a game of “who’s going to slip first?”
During this peculiar season of transition with hardly any rain, a light drizzle surprised the local monster folk who’ve grown accustomed to the forest’s usual downpours.
In this bone-chilling drizzle stood Cold Moon Great King, solemn as ever. The rain had soaked her hair, causing a few strands to curl and cling stubbornly to her forehead. Compared to her usual stoic and noble demeanor, something about her current look made her seem oddly relatable; it was almost as if she had borrowed a slice of humanity for the day.
“Pitter-patter…”
The rain showed no signs of letting up, and the squadrons of little demons stood tall, puffing out their chests to avoid looking outshone by each other.
“Drip-drop…”
That was the sound of raindrops dancing on the coffins behind them, lined up so neatly they appeared to stretch on forever.
These hastily constructed wooden boxes, reeking of fresh lumber, weren’t exactly watertight. The bodies inside were exposed to the elements, their pale skin accepting one last chill from Mother Nature before heading into the great unknown.
Though the wolf demon’s coffin was also hastily made, it was way better sealed than those of the little demons. Next to it, the tiger demon stood with a few of his former Tiger Wolf Cave associates, silently observing Cold Moon Great King on her pedestal.
Rain had drenched their fur and clothing, but here in this moment, nobody dared to move. They all knew the Great King had something monumental to say.
Cold Moon stood barefoot on the chilly, damp ground, and her emotions ebbed and flowed like the rain pouring around her. She’d thought today’s memorial would simply consist of a brief appearance followed by a group dig to bury the coffins. After all, for the monsters, d*ath had long ago lost its special meaning—it was simply part of the daily grind.
d*ath was a common occurrence in their lives. The brother who sat across from you at dinner yesterday could very well meet his end during an enemy ambush today, or, thanks to a brutal winter blizzard, a few little demons might freeze to d*ath, leaving behind only a sad story.
The monster folk had become so numb over the years, they had all but forgotten what dignity in life or reverence for d*ath was. They treated others that way…and themselves even worse.
Perhaps today would mark a new chapter for the long-silent monster race.
Cold Moon’s eyes sparkled with hope as she glanced at the Great King. The icy rain might have turned her skin even chillier, but her heart was starting to blaze with warmth.
Cold Moon Great King’s gaze slowly swept across the silent crowd, finally landing on the coffin of the wolf demon.
The tiger demons noted her focus and instinctively bowed in respect.
“Today is special,” she declared, her voice soft yet resonant enough that even the little demons at the back heard every word.
“Everyone in Cold Wind City needs to remember this moment. Because today is the day we lay our heroes to rest. They gave their precious lives to protect Cold Wind City! The wolf demon honorably sacrificed himself while on a mission.
Now, I know some may be puzzled. According to monster tradition, once someone kicks the bucket, we shovel dirt over them pronto to send them into reincarnation—after all, who wants to have to come back as a demon and suffer again?
So what’s the point of throwing a grand party for these funerals?
In the Chaos Forest, we’ve all gotten way too used to treating the deceased like yesterday’s news, since we know we’ll be treated the same way after we’re gone.
But let me ask one thing: just because we’ve always done it that way, does it make it right?
I may not care what happens elsewhere, but here in Cold Wind City, we must change our customs. Especially for those brave souls who died defending our city; we need to give them a grand send-off, so the living remember their deeds, their bl**d and sweat shed for the safety of Cold Wind City and the glory of our monster race.
We must never forget this!
I’ve said it before, what’s the biggest difference between humans and monsters? Humans have legacies.
They even remember the heroic deeds of their champions from two thousand years ago.
Every child born has role models to look up to; they have anchors for their spirits.
And us monsters? We’ve got zip.
We used to be slaves, wallowing in weakness and poverty for thousands of years, bullied by the other two races.
We’ve had heroes, sure. Four hundred years ago, the Monster King led us into a mighty roar across the land.
But when you stack that against the vastness of history, our lives are positively fleeting!
Now, four hundred years later, we’ve forgotten that we used to be slaves; we even think we deserve this oppression!
We forgot there once existed a hero who made the humans and demons tremble at our very feet.
Slowly but surely, that once-heart-stirring history is fading from our memories, losing its lineage.
So let me ask everyone here—who actually remembers the time when the Monster King led us to power?
Haven’t we tossed our treasure aside?
Without reconciling with the past, how are we supposed to spread our wings?
So, starting today, Cold Wind City will record the outstanding contributions of those who laid down their lives for our race.
Even if it takes a millennium, future generations must know that a band of brave souls once existed in this world, who fought fiercely for the rise of the monster race.
We need heroes!
Real heroes—those who plant the seeds but don’t partake in the harvest.
Though the heroes may be gone, their spirits will be our guiding stars.
Only by remembering them will we ensure we don’t lose our way when tragedies strike, and that we don’t get too big-headed when victory comes our way.
Today is the day we honor Cold Wind City’s heroes.
The wolf demon, along with the warriors who sacrificed themselves to guard Cold Wind City, are deserving of the title of “heroes.”
They will rest in the Hall of Loyalty, and every year on this day, we will come to pay our respects.
From now until the end of time.”
Just as Cold Moon Witch finished her words, the incessant drizzle suddenly ceased.
A new sun peeked through the clouds, showering the warm light over Cold Wind City.
At that moment, a breathtaking scene unfolded at the cemetery.
The silhouette of the wolf demon floated slowly out of his coffin, then, quite normally, stood upright on the ground.
The tiger demon gasped in both shock and joy, yelling, “Little brother! Little brother!”
But the wolf demon, ignoring the cries, cut through the crowd of shocked faces and made his way to where Cold Moon Great King stood, bowing and kneeling in respect.
In an instant, the silhouettes of over a thousand coffins all began to rise behind them.
They kneeled atop the coffins, synchronously bowing to Cold Moon Great King three silent yet powerful times.
As they lifted their heads, sunlight poured down, petals cascaded, and a fragrant breeze swept through. Their faces lit up with smiles, and just like that, the sad atmosphere vanished into thin air.
Everyone in attendance was left utterly dumbfounded.
The Great King’s words echoed like thunder, so much so that even the spirits of the departed were present, kneeling in gratitude.
Shouldn’t we, the living, thank the Great King for paving a golden path to honor our heroes for the monster race?
“Boom boom…”
With glistening eyes, everyone knelt in unison, their admiration for the Great King soaring higher.
“Long live the Great King, long live, long live forever!”
The chants echoed and floated through the air, ricocheting off the trees.
……
P.S.: Lunch is served! Regular request for votes!
