March 14^th, 1122. During the time of Pope Callixtus II

It has been five years since the Demon Wars, and five years since I defeated the Demon Lord, Xaghck. During my service in the war, I learned you can never truly defeat evil, for it will only alter in appearance. That is why I devised the plan to-

A raspy voice cuts me off, “-Hey! Are you writing in your diary again!? I got a new joke I want you to write down: A demon, a goat, and a priest walk into a bar. The bartender says, “Sorry we don’t serve your kind.” The priest explains to the bartender, “I can assure you the demon is of no harm to you, and the goat will leave no droppings.” The bartender says, “That’s great, but I meant we don’t serve pedophiles.” Ahahahahaha! Get it, because all your priests are pedophiles.”

“Will you shut up!”

“Hey, you sealed me in your mind. What else am I supposed to do all day; paint, drink, go for a jog? I don’t have legs in this state. Well, I guess they would be your legs, but I can’t control them. Unless… Hnnnnrgh! Nope, can’t control them. Looks like I’m back to writing jokes. “

I let out a sigh and rub the bridge of my nose, then go back to writing in my journal.

-That is why I devised the plan to seal the demon lord into my own body. This way, he is safely contained within a holy knight, and he can never be reborn into new evil.

Xaghck abruptly chimes in again, “Okay, okay, okay, what about this one: A priest and a succubus walk into a bar- “

“-Will you stop coming up with jokes! They aren’t even good jokes.”

“Well excuse me, mister holy knight. We can’t all be good at comedy, some of us were too busy raising demon armies since we were little.”

I clench my fist in anguish, let out a sigh, and rub the bridge of my nose; then go back to writing.

It has been over eight years since I last saw the love of my life, I can soon return home and-

That jackass of a Demon Lord, Xaghck, interrupts me yet again, “-What’s this love of my life crap? I’ve read your memories, you’ve got no one.”

“Yes, I do. That serving girl from the tavern, Sheila. I met her three days before I left for the war.”

“You mean that blonde bimbo!? Arthur, she was just acting nice and teasing you, in hopes of a bigger tip. Honestly, a man with your looks and low self-esteem, you will remain a virgin for life.”

“Shutthefuckup!”

“Fine, live in denial and continue writing your delusional fantasies in that diary.”

“It is not a diary! It’s a journal, a log for men’s thoughts.”

“Oh yeah? Then why does it say “Diary” on the spine?”

“…. I hate you so much.”