They chased off the villain. They destroyed his pets. They thwarted his plot. They received the secrets and discovered the treasure he sought. They defeated his general. They burned his army. They ruined his reputation, and they mocked his cult. They were indoctrinated into a sect devote to defend everything he was against by the statue of a forgotten king, who ruled a land long lost. Finally, they rested, right there in the very room that he ran from, the throne room where they might all rest without fear, for the statue of the king stood watch.
This is not that story. That story has ended. This is not his story. His story leads to the Underdark. This story leads to the cosmos. This is hardly even their story, they are merely the actors, the players, the pawns.