The Sun shone brightly over a luscious kingdom, from the tallest tower of the castle that stood at the Highest mountain a young man looked out across the massive city that coated the mountain, thousands of years' worth of hard labor having turned the once jagged cliffs into streets full of people going about their lives, citizens shopping, adventuring enjoying the break from the danger that lay outside the safe walls of the capital, at the base of the mountain the city stretched on for miles, eventual giving way to farmlands before finally hitting the massive wall that kept the citizens safe.
The Man looking out at the kingdom was the country hero, one of only a few in the world with the title, he had the power to lay a killing blow against any who held the Demon Lord title, and after thousands of years at war, there was now only one Demon Lord left, But she was far from an easy target, she had not survived by hiding or with strategy, she had been the first Demon Lord, and her power was nothing to scoff at, if one failed to kill her on their first strike, it was unlikely she would let them try again.
But after several more years of war, it seemed the Demon Lord who held the distinction of being both the first and the last of her kind had decided that war was a waste of her time and had founded a country for Demon kind to live in peace, urging her kind that Humans simply weren't worth the trouble.
He grit his teeth, he had met her only once during the signing of the treaty between her country of Demona and his home country of Yogallia. He had offered her the ultimate prize, something anyone in the world would have killed for, his hand in marriage, after all with the both of them together they could rule as gods.
She had flatly refused him, stating that Demons held a strong stance of love for love's sake, and a political marriage would call all below her to turn their backs to her. He had tried to reason with her, she was the Demon Lord, and any who denied her respect could just be made an example of, but she had simply told him to leave and never speak to her again.
Since that day his blood has not stopped boiling, the outrage at someone rejecting him, the hero, the cream of the crop, Humanities best, brightest, and most powerful. He swore that day he would see her country turned to ask, and when would relish as she begged him to spare her, then and only then would he take pity on her and let him be his concubine, forever forced to regret denying the offer of being his equal.
He heard hushed voices and looked behind him, whoever had been speaking behind his back had fleed, but he could find them and put them in their place, before he could begin the search a bell from down in the city depths rang out and he smiled, It was midday, and that meant his weapon against the queen was probably done with it's daily testing. He entered the tower that he called his abode and walked to a large mirror on the wall, a Teleportal Mirror that allowed access to most parts of the castle, he looked into it and told it where he wanted to go.
"Dungeon: Blood Pits," The Mirror shimmered, now revealing a dingy room instead of his lavish sleeping quarters. He stepped through it and was hit with a scent that most people would have gagged at, but the Hero only smiled.
The Thick scent of blood filled the air, screaming and calling out for things like help or to be put out of their misery, the Hero walled past bared cells with prisoners, more than a few of them were probably filled with dead inmates but that wasn't his concern, he was heading towards his favorite place, after making his way through a few hallways he found himself in a massive chamber, a deep dome-like pit in the center with railing on the side, and seats for spectators to watch as Prisoners fought to the death over a false promise of freedom, in reality only one man had ever actually exited the pit alive, and for his efforts he was thrown back in the next day only to once again survive, this event had been ages ago but the Hero knew it well, since to this day that one man had yet to die, no matter what anyone did to him, a small group of torcherers sat next to the railing, taking notes as they looked down into the pit.
The Hero took his seat next to them and looked down.
To someone who had never seen him before one might have thought it was a woman standing in the center of the pit, but closer inspection would reveal the faintly masculine signs of a man, though one had to look hard to see it.
He had choppy red hair and piercing green eyes, he wore the same rags as all prisoners did, the Hero smiled as he looked at the man, surrounded by the fresh corpses of prisoners who he had only just finished killing, the man was talking to their dead bodies as he always did, though the Hero never cared to listen to what he was saying and instead turned to his observation team.
"How far along are we?" He asked.
"The Item you've been requesting from the Musume in the southern province has finally been acquired, it should arrive this day next week at the latest,"
"And his performance?" The Hero turned his gaze to his favorite toy, even without witnessing the fight he could see that his chosen weapon clothing was ripped up and bloody.
"He was stabbed eight times, had his left eye gouged out, one of the contestants snuck in a rock and tried to use it to bash his skull in against the floor, and he did just that, the results are the same as always, he recovered from what should have been mortal wounds and slaughtered his foes with focused neat attacks, most probably didn't even noticed they had been hit and simply fell over dead.
Truly a perfect toy, the worst part of a torcher doll is when it breaks, but being the Hero he had been blessed and found one that could recover from just about any injury, he watched from the stands as his weapon held out his hands and began siphoning the biomass of his opponents into himself, whatever or who the man had once been had long since been lost to time, so it was unclear if he had always been a blood mage or if decades of torture had forced the proficiency into him.
The only certain thing was that he had, at the very least, entered the dungeon with a self-healing skill, and had now mastered it to the point surviving just about anything.
The Hero had a self-healing skill himself, but his had limited uses, he could heal cuts and scrapes, maybe regrow an eye if given enough time, but the one below him could come back from nothing but a severed head, and with his blood magic on top he could even go so far as ripping his arms off using the blood in his veins and then launch them like projectile weapons while still retaining control over them.
He was human in looks and origins alone, the Hero knew that if given the chance this man would probably slaughter everyone in the capital as vengeance for his punishment for crimes that were long forgoten, if indeed there had ever been a crime to his name.
The collar around his neck was the only thing keeping him in check, and even that was straying dangerously close to being a non-option.
The Shock Collar was designed to deliver a massive amount of lighting damage, but could be scaled down for less fatal doses, but nowadays a special collar that gave out almost four times the amount that usual collars gave out was around his neck, and even that barely stalled him long enough for the guards to break his bones and detain him, he had almost managed to kill one of them the last time he had needed to be detained, so the Hero knew he needed to act before he lost all control.
"Set the safe room up," The Hero decided, "Once the item arrives contact me and I'll make the sell, until then he is no longer to fight, keep him confined to his cell, my plan for dominance requires him," The Hero began walking away when he heard a laugh and looked down, sitting in the blood pit his tool was looking up at him with a merry smile on his face and waved, having finished sucking up all the dead bodies for an as yet unknown reason.
"What up," He called up to the Hero, The Hero looked away, choosing to preserve his elegance and not converse with the caged animal. "Still too much of a pansy ass to come down and fight me?" The Man smiled as the Hero immediately lost all composure and snapped at him.
"I am the Hero of Yogallia, Your just some forgotten nobody withering away in a pit, there will be songs and stories told about me for generations, where as you have already been forgotten by the ceaseless flow of time,"
"Fight me Coward," The Man called back, in response to his calls his collar was activated and the Blood Pit was filled with maniacal laughter as the Forgotten man howled with laughter, "NO, stop it tickles, no wait I kind of like it now, hey doc turn up to voltage," Deptire his laugher the man was indeed having trouble moving through the lighting as it convulsed through his muscles.
"We might not make it to this time next week," one of the torchers said as a few guards entered the pits with long heavy blunt instruments to avoid getting too close to the man,the second the collar was shut off they began beating on him, his laughter only dying out when his body was rendered incapable of making the sound.
The Forgotten man was dragged back to his special cell, chains were wrapped around him and them large metal spikes were used to keep his arms twisted in a position to prevent them from healing, the same was done to his legs before his collar was removed and replaced with one that dug spikes into his neck, and was used to hoist him a position that forced him to stand on his broken legs.
It was a hellish torture, but he had been forced to live his life like this for so long that he had gained a skill that let him temporarily turn off his ability to feel pain, it was far from comfortable but he was at least able to bear trough it until the guards left him to his torturous peace.
"I wonder If I'll get to eat today," The Man thought aloud his chest suddenly burst open, a stream of blood swirled into a hand and using his blood magic he broke the chains on his limbs and allow his arms and legs to properly pop back into place, he kept the collar on around his neck since it was set to explode if he tried to remove it, and the last time he had tried that he had been reward with a several months long acid bath, and since it took a long time for residences to form he didn't really want to try and train that one up with several years of acidic pain, having only just recently gotten enough of a resistance to blunt weapons that he could laugh while being beaten into the ground.
He waited, for what might have ben days or even just minutes, having no concept of time in the dungeon he had no idea how often he was taken in for a Bloodpit fight, and wasn't about to ask since the last time he had tried he has gotten his tongue ripped out and spent the rest of the day forced to leave an arrow in his stomach as punishment.
After what could have been minutes or days the guards returned to his room, he turned off his pain as his limbs were rebroken before his collar was removed and replaced with the shock one before they continued beating on him just to make sure he would stay down before dragging him out and, for the first time in his mess of a memory, turned right, away from the Blood pit.
"Oh, are we trying something new?" He asked as his jaw popped back into place, "No, no, no don't tell me, I love surprises," He received a crack across the jaw with another blunt instrument as an answer to his question. As his pain off skill was hitting its limit he chose to keep his mouth shut as his legs healed enough for him to walk with the guards instead of being dragged behind them.
He was taken up several flights of stairs, frankly it was the most walking he'd had in what he felt might have been years, enough to maybe say decades even.
His adventure ended as he was taken to a new cell, one with a barred window rubbing against its ceiling.
The light blinded him for a good bit of time, but once he could look at it with limited pain he couldn't stop staring at it, his last fading memories of sunlight were stained with the bitter promise that he knew had been a lie. He had probably gotten a little more sunlight after that but those memories were long lost to time.
The simple sensations around him were incredible, no screaming, the scent of blood was faint and only on him, and he could hear prisoners talking, not crying in fear, just chatting with the guards. Their attire was so far apart from his usual guards he felt he was gonna get whiplash.
Instead of bulky metal suits like knights, their gear looked mostly to be made of leather with only just a few pieces of metal.
"We need to speak to the captain of this level," one of his guards called out as a few of the less metallic guards came to check out the new guy.
"Not often the Royal guard brings in a prisoner," One of them noted, "What do you think he did,"
"Guys covered in blood, but I haven't heard of anyone dying, maybe he's tripping out on something? Pixie powder maybe?"
"What is the meaning of this?" A fairly pissed sounding voice rang out as a large man whose hair would make a Lion jealous approached the royal guard, leaving the forgotten man to wonder who the other guys were. "One moment I'm filing reports about the arrest of that dine and dash guy we finally caught the other day, and suddenly I get news from the Hero that some sort of Demon's been arrested?" All the non-royal guards immediately got away from the forgotten man, some even started opening one of the cells next to him and had the prisoners relocate, who despite the chance to run for it, chose to run to the new cell seemingly to get away from the Forgotten one.
"We are not equipped to hold a Demon strong enough for the Hero to be involved in its capture!"
"It's been equipped with a very powerful shock collar," One of the guards informed him, "The Hero will be here soon with his party, he'll be needing your safe room to question it before he sends it to the coast to be processed for labor or usable parts,"
He was torn, on one hand he had absolutely no idea what the hell was happening, but on the other this was the most interesting thing that, as far as he could remember, had ever happened to him, and he kind of wanted to just ride it out and see what might happen. He chose the latter and just kind of let what was happening happen on the off chance there was a mistake and he was about to finally escape through the power of guard incompetence.
"What kind of magic can it use?" The Captain of the floor demanded.
"No idea," The Guard replied, "Just keep away from it, the Hero and his party should be arriving soon to deal with it," The two guards handed the shock controller off to the Captain and left, leaving the mountainous man to glare at him.
"If I hadn't been told it was a Demon I might have mistaken it for a lady," He noted.
"Who are you calling a lady?" The forgotten man demanded earning a disgusted look from the Captain.
"I get it," One of the not royal guards declared, "It accidentally disguised itself as a lady instead of a man, that must be how the Hero caught it,"
"This is just my face you dick," He chose not to call that out, since being mistaken for a demon might be his ticket out, and if the Hero did call for him to be thrown back into the deep, then he could go ahead and make a hell of a racket trying to get out.
He instead chose to lay on the cells provided bed, by any metric it would be classified barely better than sleeping on rocks, but his cell had always been him being forced to stand up right and just kind of black in and out of consciousness until he was thrown into the blood pit.
He might have fallen asleep if the not-royal guard had shut up.
"Is that real human skin or an illusion charm?" One of them asked nervously.
"Does it eat people, is it some kind of vampire?"
"I hope that's not the Hero's blood, I bet the battle was epic," In the end he just had to wait until he was told to stand at attention, the not-royal guards clearing out as the Captain took point and opened his cell.
"I won't hesitate to electrify your ass," He informed the man, "So move it,"
"Frankly you'd probably end up killing most of the people in this hall way if you turn that thing on," The Man noted happily, "But I don't really wanna get fried again so I'll comply," He did his best to be a model prisoner as he was moved from his temporary cell to whatever a safe room was.
He was taken to a room that had every square inch coated in protection spells. "Bind," The Captain said as energy rings forced the Forgotten man to stand at attention.
"That will be all Captain," The Man looked over as the Captain bid the Hero luck in his interrogation before leaving. The Hero entered once the Captain left, behind him three others entered the room, a Massive muscular man with no hair atop his head but with a beard that almost reached past his belly that had a large Hammer strapped to his back. A Thin blond man with a bandolier filled with a massive assortment of throwing knives, the last member was a boy with half circle glasses weidling a long wooden stick.
The Hero himself was the classical bland looking man who looked so average it hurt, with a sword on his hip and a shield on his back, both looked like they might not have ever seen real battle.
"Hello again," The Hero said as he reached into his overcoat and pulled something out of his pocket, It was a Black and Silver Mask that looked like it could cover one's eyes and nose, with what looked like red rubies in the eye holes "First things first then," The Hero proceed to stick the mask onto the Forgotten mans face, the eye lenses, despite being red, didn't tint his vision, in fact he kind of felt like it made his vision slightly better.
"Oi," The Big guy called out, "Why'd you give it equipment, are you stupid?"
"It's cursed," The Hero replied simply to the big guy before looking back to the forgotten man, "And one of its many curses is that it can only be taken off by whoever put it on, so if you ever want that thing off you face, you'll be working for me you worthless creatine,"
The Forgotten man stared at the Hero blankly, although the mask prevented the judgmental stare from being seen as the Hero spoke to him, "You will be sent on a caravan to the Western Coast disguised as a slave for sell, once there an associate of mine will help you fake an escape into Demona, once there you will work yourself to the bone to become a member of the Demon Lords court, I don't care as what, I just need you to gain access to the first level of the Demon Lords Tower, once there you will map it out and find me a way to bypass all of her Generals so I may fight her directly, once I have defeated the Demon Lord I may just take your mask off I feel you've done a good job."
The Hero smiled smugly at the Forgotten man, who continued to judge the hell out of him as the Hero's team began praising his brilliant plan, and if might have been an ok plan if the Hero hadn't made one small mistake, the Forgotten man absolutely hated everyone involved in his torture, and the Hero had multiple times had the Forgotten man tied up and used him as a torcher doll, and while the Cursed mask probably had the potential to be the worst thing ever done to him, he'd much rather die screwing over the Hero than live helping the Hero just long enough to be thrown back into the bottom depths of the dungeon for the Hero's own amusment.
He chose not to tell the Hero any of that and just shrugged, "K," He replied.
"And you doubted me," The Hero pushed back his hair and looked to his team, "This plan may take some time, but you'll all be joining me in the history books after this, and you can at least die forgotten on your own pathetic terms,"
"I'm gonna enjoy this," The Forgotten man decided, "I'm gonna enjoy this far more than I should,"