The Dulon Dynasty was a superpower in many ways, however they were only able to attain such status through years of building their military holdings. Namely, they invested in singular combatants, manufactured heroes to act as pillars for the power of the crown. They called these heroes, The Honored.
Kolda The Shining Tower, Honored of Vitality.
A behemoth of an orc mercenary, bought and brought into knighthood by the royal family. He dressed in polished mithril full plate and wielded an enormous mithril leaf shield in tandem with a long-hafted battle axe, also made of mithril. The man took his role as hero of the kingdom relatively seriously, he spent more time posing and flexing for the public than he did on the battlefield, but when he finally made it on the pitch morale would skyrocket once the soldiers had a glittering orc juggernaut literally cutting open their path.
Jarrek The Skittering Star, Honored of Dexterity.
An insectoid and former gladiator, Jarrek fought her way to the top of every colosseum in the land demonstrating unbelievable speed and precision that the royal family scouted her to become the head of their stealth corps, leading her to train a veritable army of recon and fencing specialists. Jarrek herself often leading them into battle, dashing here and there in a flurry of flying blood and flashing blades. In her off-time Jarrek connected with her roots and the public quite often, sponsoring promising gladiators and maintaining relations with her former sponsors, still name-dropping products like every coin counted.
Idalia The Mystic Supernova, Honored of Intellect.
Gorum The Unstoppable, Honored Brave of Power.
Intimidating and violent; Gorum was unfit to be a celebrity that could grasp the love of the masses. Too much blood, too much destruction, too little hesitation. Unlike his fellow braves who flourished in their social connections to the people, Gorum practically never spoke, he only gave out orders or asked for new ones. It didn't take long for rumors to spread, for the people to view him as more of a monster on a royal leash than a man on a mission.
Unknown to many however, he was as plain as they came. Dedicated to his work and little else, he ran himself ragged for his duty to the people. He held them closer to his heart than anything else, even at this own expense. He didn't mind the rumors, the stories. It never kept him from working and it was all idle chatter anyway.
All the hard work no one else was willing to do was the work that suited him just fine, no matter how much it hurt.
Hunting rampaging monsters, unrooting criminal organizations, conquering every unconquerable crisis that threatened the collapse of Ugdual over the years fell to him. But even so he didn't hesitate to tackle the next cataclysm that came his way. He served his entire life for his home, for his thankless people.
Going so far as to isolate himself and ask for undeveloped land far from the population. An entire range of forested hills with a single clearing atop the highest hill is where his manor was, undecorated, unkempt and covered in foliage. His home classified as little more than a abandoned building, only possessing the bare minimum for human living. All so he wouldn't bother anyone.
In the dusty study with no furniture besides a desk to stand at for paperwork, Gorum was still as a statue at his desk within the decrepite manor devoid of all life but his own, staring down at a red letter with a black wax seal on it. The crest pressed into the wax was a spiders web with a stylized heart in the center. It was the insignia of the world's largest anti-government organization, Omen's Order.
'Why of all people would they send a letter to me?' he thought, a puzzled look on his face.
Although, if one of the maids he was supposed to hire actually came into work and saw him, they wouldn't be able to tell since he was wearing a full-face helm. It had to have been years since he last removed his blood-stained armor.
"...Parely, perhaps?" He mused aloud.
Wasting little more time, Gorum opened the envelope, beginning to read the red note.
"Dear Gorum, we hope this letter found you well. Despite our... unfortunate dealings with one another over the recent years.
We of the Omen's Order wish to invite you to our organization, on account of your glorious achievements. So many of which were unappreciated by the world you've protected for so long. Don't you think it's time you finally got the recognition you deserve? We understand your frustration at this thankless world and wish to help you achieve your rightful title at the precipice.
Become the fourth Omen, support us and show the world your worth whether they wish to see it or not. If this idea is of interest to you, travel to the top of Leeroy's Mountain in the Demon King's continent. Once you arrive, lift up the arm of the statue present there, and we shall send an emissary group to guide you.
Greatest Wishes, Omen's Order."
Gorum couldn't process it. It was too strange, the organization he had been tasked with destroying was not only inviting him to join them, but they were praising him.
No one had ever praised Gorum or his deeds, never. Not the little people he had saved, not the soldiers he fought alongside. Not even his comrade Braves. Despite how many times he had unconditionally helped and sacrificed for them, whether it was the midst of battle or in a private matter, they never would thank him. Even the King, who he so diligently served since he was a boy hadn't praised him, no matter what deed he did or how much respect he showed, the King never praised Gorum. He only ever gave him a new order.
Gorum was never the sentimental type but in his old age he was growing...conflicted.
Having felt his first ever gesture of kindness, there was a part of him that wanted to proudly puff out his chest and another part that was telling him it wasn't true. Even more conflicting, he was being invited to turn against the people he had served his whole life. Gorum never gave it much thought past 'I'm a soldier.'
He was forced to think about it now, just a little, and it made his heart ache. The people he loved and protected didn't care for him at all. Even hated him.
What was he to think? What was he to do? Would he betray his people and undo all the years of service he had worked for? Or would he dutifully continue on being the same un-thanked tool for his country? Could he even trust such a group like Omen's Order? He had already mowed down some of their operations and they were morally gray at best. But so was he, to an extent.
"Omen's Order...obsessed with violent rebellion for centuries and now all of sudden they want to be diplomatic?" He scoffed, returning to reality and pushing his own thoughts down.
Perhaps they knew they couldn't beat him and planned to try and tame him this way instead? After all, Gorum was beyond strength, he was the first human to ever become a [Destroyer]. He doubted they knew though since his personal information was beyond hidden, only rumors could even glint at an accurate measuring of his strength. He himself hadn't checked his stats or skills for about a decade, he knew he peaked long ago and wasn't interested to find out how much weaker old age had made him.
"Enough thinking." he said with finality.
"Might as well hear them out. If I don't like it, I'll just kill them." Gorum huffed as he rose from his hunched over position and soundlessly strode to the door, grabbing his spear on his way out of his desolate abode.
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The Demon King's continent, a craggy and hazardous waste full of danger, powerful monsters and hostile demons. Poisonous bogs of bright red acid, towering mountains with strange and difficult to navigate outcrops. Vast fields of soot and blackrock, lava geysers and heat vents everywhere. Home to the dastardly Demon King and his army of demons, hell bent on destroying all humans, claiming only nonhuman races deserved to live. At least, it used to be that way a few years ago before Gorum had a go.
After the Demon King first announced his slaughter campaign, several countries did a "hero summoning" ritual to bring warriors from another world to either defeat the demon king or to at least protect their lands. Although they were more powerful than the average warrior by a long shot, they were a gamble. Fools who ignored their duty to "live a slow life", lechers who went around engaging in all debauchery they pleased without taking a single thing seriously.
Wingnuts with hearts blacker than black, who committed atrocities unspeakable because to them it was simply "a game". Idiots whose heads were full of flowers, falling in love with whomever they saw and always righteously "saving the day" and screwing things up because their world worked differently in terms of values. Those untrustworthy, halfhearted heroes would always either die in a battle they foolishly started or had no business being a part of and would fade into obscurity even if they survived. Failures who couldn't cut it when a real challenge appeared.
After enough failures, when the Demon Kings Army began to grow too large, the King of Ugdual finally stepped up and sent Gorum to take care of it. At that point, all of the demons who didn't sympathize with their king had already fled to other continents or were executed for treason. So Gorum didn't even need to think. He simply walked to the beach and into the ocean then came out on the other side a few days later. Once he arrived, it was simply a matter of hunting them all down. Within two and a half months, he had meticulously hunted every demon, big and small across the continent before once and for all charging to the Demon King's castle. Breaching the throne room and ending the Demon King's life in a day long battle without letting any sort of dialogue take place. No matter many times the Demon King tried to surrender and beg for his life, his fate was decided the moment Gorum set foot in his castle.
After he was done, news traveled that a single Brave accomplishing in a few months what hundreds of summoned heroes failed to do for ten years. Due to Ugduals show of power, countries soon stopped relying on summoned heroes for much more than anything but defending small towns or cities. The only otherworlders anyone could rely on were those from sub-worlds or people summoned by the gods themselves. But now, those were simply nostalgic times and the current Demon King's continent was in a state of disrepair beyond what it ever was before. All life on the surface was wiped out, even bugs didn't dare come out from the cracks in the ground.
Gorum let out a sigh, already bored of the wasteland scenery as he peered down from the highest mountain top. It took him a few days longer to get there than it would have a year ago, his strength was withering and every new mission reminded him of it.
He glanced aside at the strange statue of a mostly naked woman with a hood over her head, a scale in each hand, a heart with a dagger in it on the right scale and a feather on the left scale. Both arms had a crease at the shoulder where it was clear they could be lifted or lowered.
"A puzzle? The letter didn't say anything about which arm to raise..." Gorum mumbled, impatiently tapping his armored boot on the ground. Gorum was never one for puzzles, he was more so the type to just break whatever contraption was impeding him. However, doing so to this statue probably wasn't a good idea if he was pretending to be on their side.
Fed up with having to think, Gorum arrived at his own special conclusion and simply pushed both arms into a raised position. And then click! Glowing red orbs place in the hooded woman's eyes lit up, casting some sort of communication magic from what Gorum could guess. Complex Magic was never his forte, not that he didn't find it impressive, he just didn't get it in an intellectual way. That was the job of Idalia. Truthfully, Gorum considered her above the other two braves in strength, her magical power comparable to his physical power. Not say he was a slouch when it came to magic either, his spells were much less refined but he had the basic elements mastered for combat purposes and he even had a few spells he made himself.
Gorum heaved a sigh as looked away from the statue and back at the wasteland, unsure of what he was doing. A feeling that was completely foreign to him, someone who never hesitated. Even though this would clearly be considered an infiltration tactic, what if it turned out to be real? What if Gorum truly did harbor negative feelings about the way he was treated. What if these people actually swayed him into betraying his duty?
Although it was true in battle Gorum had unshakeable will and determination, outside of battle Gorum was a simplistic and feeble-minded man with little ability outside combat. Not knowing what to do next besides wait, Gorum stood against a rock and began waiting. His spear gripped tightly in hand incase things went wrong.
....
....
....
As night fell and harsh silence filled the air, Gorum stood at attention; certain that he could hear footsteps. And sure enough, 5 robed figures arrived, three women and two men. All humans. After a synchronized bow the leading woman stepped forward and spoke to Gorum.
"Greetings to you, Master Gorum. We are the emissaries of Omen's Order and shall be your guides to the meeting place." the woman said, speaking in a cold voice, yet polite tone.
"Please follow us and ask any questions you need answered, dearest Gorum..." She said gesturing for Gorum to follow along with the group.
And for a moment he thought 'If I go along with them, I could just be plunging myself into a trap! But...' he wanted to hear it for himself, what their offer really entailed.
And so, off Gorum set with these strange people. Following them across the wastes to whatever awaited him.