They thought I was bluffing.
I ripped the Demon Lord’s darkness apart with my own borrowed shadows. I absorbed his final scream into my chest. When the dust cleared, I was the only one standing. The hero’s corpse lay to my left. The girls stared at me—no longer with pity, but with terror and awe. They thought I was bluffing
I was never the Chosen One. I was the shadow that followed the light—Riol, the healer, the support mage, the friend who held the hero’s bag. The world called him Leon, the Brave. And Leon took everything. the support mage