Truth Hurts

He stared out into the darkness, straining to see the incoming legions. He stretches his limbs and hefts his sword, then bounces on the balls of his feet. In throngs beyond number, they came over the crest of the hill and charged him.
The first few were cut down effortlessly.
Nobody likes you.
You are worthless.
Don’t waste our time.
Many of these lesser demons fell to his blade. His sharp, azure eyes pierced their armor, and struck out at their inner weaknesses. It was after a while, when the trials of battle began to tire him, that the greater demons stepped forward.
She’s perfect for you, but you’ll never be perfect for her.
A blow that brought him to his knees. As he stood back up, he was hit again.
She will be happy without you, forever.
Wincing in pain, he thrust the blade deep into the demon’s chest. Black ichor bubbled from the wound, staining his hands. As he rammed the blade in, to the hilt, he whispered in the demon’s ear;
I know that already.
He tore the blade free and spun around, removing the demon’s head in one fell swoop. Triumphant in his victory, his happiness was short lived, as the roars from the other side of the hill could be heard. Once again, he peered out into the darkness.
His battle would never end.

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