I just wanted to be a demon lord, but I was mistaken for a hero because all the girls following the hero joined my party

In a league of its own, Babilious outshone all other medieval cities. It was a self-contained marvel, its growth defined by well-fortified walls that guarded an incredible intermix of human brilliance and mystical charm. The city was a powerhouse in its own right, its military prowess so formidable that it stood independent, untouched by the tendrils of the kingdom's influence.

Babilious was a beacon in the clash between humans and demons, a tranquil refuge amidst the storm of conflict. The city held its ground, opting for neutrality rather than taking sides. The people embraced a unique equilibrium, an equilibrium that saw humans and demons existing side by side, their lives interwoven in an intricate tapestry of shared experiences and cohabitation.

After Zephyrath Dravenhart departed, Dylan was left sprawled on the sidewalk, a victim of his own drunkenness. He had a knack for getting himself into such predicaments, much to the frustration of his mentor, Maximus Blackthorn.

"Once again, Dylan, you've done it! You've managed to single-handedly tarnish my reputation," Maximus scolded, approaching yet another hero in question.

Well, a hero in paper at least.

Dylan lifts his head, and with a goofy grin plastered across his face. 

"Hey, what's the big deal? I'm the hero right? You're supposed to take care of me!"

Maximus let out an exasperated sigh. "Dylan Hammerstein, why do you insist on drowning yourself in alcohol yet again? In this broad daylight?"

Dylan Hammerstein was a hero of little renown, all thanks to his lackluster accomplishments. Maximus, on the other hand, was his mentor, guiding him on his supposed path to greatness. The bond between a mentor and his hero disciple was meant to be a close one, but if Dylan continued down this self-destructive path, Maximus feared his own reputation would suffer the same fate.

Dylan's appearance told a story of its own. His hair, once a river of lustrous waves, had succumbed to neglect. Grime-tainted and wildly unkempt, it was a far cry from its former glory. Yet, there was an undeniable appeal in its untamed state, lending Dylan a ruggedly charismatic aura.

His eyes, the windows to his soul, were guarded by pronounced dark circles. Their stark presence against his pallor accentuated the evidence of his sleep-deprived struggle. 

"Dylan, you've got to put down that bottle," Maximus pleaded, snatching it away from Dylan's grasp and flinging it aside.

"Hey, give me my bottle back! I still had some left in it," Dylan mumbled, his words trailing off as he passed out cold.

"Damn it, why did I have to end up with this no good ******* out of all those heroes who were available!?" Maximus grumbled, his frustration evident. 

Back when he was still a teenager, he was so full of life and promise.

As a mentor, Maximus thought Dylan had what it needed to be a hero. The structure, the will, the gravity. Yes, all that should be present in a hero, was all there in Dylan. 

But even for Maximus, it was a hard call. He definitely had the power to choose which hero he would teach. But once he made his choice, he would be stuck with them forever.

So it was more like a double-edged sword for him.

"If only I had known that this would become of him back then..." Maximus sighed, lifting Dylan's unconscious body from the sidewalk and hoisting him up in his arms.

"All hail the great hero!" voices rang out from the city, the sound of adoring fans. 

Maximus cringed, not wanting to be seen carrying his good for nothing hero while people basked those other heroes in the glory of their accomplishments.

"I better head in the opposite direction," Maximus muttered to himself, eager to avoid any encounters with fellow heroes and their proud mentors. After all, he already had enough on his hands to carry.

"Hey, have you seen the new hero that just arrived?" a curious citizen asked, excitement evident in their voice.

Maximus, however, just didn't want to be bothered. He let out another sigh of exasperation. But, he still listened. For it was his duty as well as a mentor.

“If only I had picked a better hero, then maybe even I would be among the ones receiving those applause.”

Yes, such mumbles would escape from the mouth of Maximus from time to time. After all, like every mentor, he also had a dream that he wanted to achieve. But all was for naught now. 

Maximus had dreamed of being revered by the masses and have himself recognized as the mentor behind the creation of the greatest heroes that ever existed. But, every morning, as he woke up from that heaven, he would find himself in this perpetual reality which would shatter all his dreams one after another. 

The reality of his selected Hero in perpetually intoxication. A stark reality reminding him of his foolish decision, and the dark unwanted truth.

"I heard Zephyrath Dravenhart is quite the prodigy," one citizen gushed, their eyes shining with admiration. "Even his humility knows no bound. He's destined for greatness!"

"He's got the looks, the skills, and the charm, and the way he gives importance to other... I may have already fallen for him if I hadn’t had a husband yet." a lady chimed in, nodding fervently.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he goes on to become the greatest hero our city has ever seen!"

Maximus's ears perked up at the mention of Zephyrath's name. Despite his frustration with Dylan, he couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. 

A hero with potential, 

one who could capture the hearts of the people 

and bring honor to his mentor's name

Yes, — that was a dream, no, rather everything Maximus yearned for.

"Zephyrath Dravenhart...," Maximus mumbled under his breath, his voice tinged with admiration but also a hint of resignation.

‘If only I had been blessed with a hero like him.’

"The mentor who gets to guide him will be incredibly fortunate," a bystander remarked, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Maximus couldn't help but stop after overhearing that statement; his curiosity was piqued. He had already heard whispers about this hero, Zephyrath Dravenhart, several times today, mentioning his remarkable potential. 

But what caught Maximus off guard was the information and realization that Zephyrath was still in search of a mentor.

"Perhaps," Maximus mused, 

A fleeting thought crossed his mind. Yet he quickly brushed it aside. Since, the present reality was that he was stuck with Dylan, for better or worse, and there was no turning back.

"If only I had the chance to choose differently, undo my faults" Maximus sighed inwardly, his gaze shifting to the slumbering figure of Dylan that rests on his shoulders.