The light inside the Throne Room wasn't just bright; it was heavy.
It poured from crystal chandeliers the size of small houses, refracting through thousands of diamonds to cast a dazzling, prismatic glow over everything. The floor was polished marble, so clear Ren could see his own terrified reflection walking across it. To the left and right, rows of nobles stood like statues, dressed in silks and velvets of deep crimson, royal blue, and emerald green. They whispered behind jeweled fans, their eyes tracking the students with a mix of hungry curiosity and desperate hope.
Ren felt small. In the dungeon, amidst the damp stone and shadows, the reality of the situation had felt distant, like a bad dream. But here? Surrounded by wealth and power that exceeded anything he'd seen in history books? It was suffocatingly real.
He walked at the front of the group, Reiji and Ayaka flanking him slightly behind. The Royal Vanguard stopped ten paces from the dais, their armor clanking in unison as they knelt. Ren hesitated, then awkwardly bowed. The rest of the class hurriedly followed suit, a messy wave of dipping heads and bent knees.
"Rise," a voice called out.
Ren straightened up and looked at the man sitting on the throne. King Alaric IV was not the imposing giant Ren had expected. He was an older man, his hair white and thinning, his face lined with deep grooves of exhaustion. He wore a crown of woven gold and a heavy robe furred with white ermine, but he didn't look like a tyrant. He looked like a grandfather who hadn't slept in a week.
"Welcome," the King said, his voice soft but carrying easily across the silent hall. "I am Alaric, ruler of the Kingdom of Eldoria. And I offer you my deepest, most humble apologies."
Ren blinked, surprised. "Apologies… Your Majesty?"
"For bringing you here against your will," the King said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes filled with genuine regret. "I know you are frightened. I know you have families, lives, and futures in your own world that we have stolen from you. If there were any other way to save my people… I would have taken it."
Ren felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen. Beside him, Ayaka let out a soft breath. It was hard to be angry at a man who looked so desperate.
"Why us?" Reiji asked, stepping forward with a respectful bow. He had naturally slipped into the role of spokesman, and Ren was grateful for it. "Sir Valdorn said we were summoned to fight. But… we're just high school students. We don't know how to fight wars."
The King sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It is precisely because you are not from this world that you are our only hope."
The King gestured to a large mural painted on the ceiling above them. It depicted a terrifying scene: a dark, horned figure rising from a cracked earth, commanding legions of shadows against a lone warrior in shining armor.
"One thousand years ago," the King began, his tone shifting into the cadence of a storyteller, "the Demon Lord Kaelthar nearly extinguished all life on Altherion. He was a calamity made flesh—a being who fed on death to grow stronger. Our armies fell. Our magic shattered against his skin."
The class listened, captivated. Even Toru and Hinata had stopped whispering.
"He was defeated only by the sacrifice of the First Hero," the King continued. "The Hero drove his blade into Kaelthar's heart, destroying his physical form. But Kaelthar is not merely a beast. He is a concept. As long as malice and despair exist, his soul cannot be extinguished." The King paused, his expression darkening. "So, the First Hero sealed Kaelthar's soul within the Abyssal Gate, deep beneath the earth. A seal meant to last for eternity."
"So what happened?" Daigo asked, his voice booming slightly too loud for the room. "Did he break out?"
"Not on his own," the King said gravely. A ripple of unease went through the nobles standing along the walls. "The seal was designed to be unbreakable from the inside," the King explained. "Kaelthar could scream and rage all he wanted; he could not escape. But… three months ago, our seers detected a disturbance. Someone—or something—from the outside began to feed the seal."
"Feed it?" Ren whispered.
"Dark mana. Foreign energy," the King said. "We do not know the identity of this traitor, nor do we know if they are even human. But they have been pouring power into the Abyssal Gate, cracking the lock from the outside. Kaelthar has begun to leak through. His monsters are already ravaging the borderlands."
"And that's where we come in?" Reiji asked.
"Correct," the King nodded. "Altherion's magic has become stagnant. Over a thousand years, our spells have become rigid, ordered, and predictable. Kaelthar's soul has evolved to resist us. Our swords bounce off his skin; our fire feels like water to him." The King looked at the students, his eyes gleaming with intensity. "But you… you are from a world without magic. Your souls possess a chaotic, untamed density—what we call 'Origin Mana.' To Kaelthar, who has adapted to the order of Altherion, your power is poison. Your potential is limitless. Only a Hero from another world can pierce his defenses."
The King stood up, spreading his arms wide. "We checked the Appraisal. A Saintess. A Sage. A Paladin. And… a Hero with the Divine Blessing." He looked directly at Ren, a smile finally breaking through his exhaustion. "It is a miracle. The Gods have heard our prayers. With a summoning this perfect, surely, the nightmare will end."
The room seemed to brighten. The nobles murmured excitedly. "A perfect summoning," one whispered. "The Kingdom is saved," another said. Ren felt a strange mix of pride and nausea. They were looking at him like he was a weapon, yes, but also like he was a savior. Maybe… maybe he could actually do this. Maybe they all could.
The King stepped down one level from the dais, looking ready to embrace them. "Come," he said warmly. "We have prepared a banquet. You must be famished. Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our—"
CLANG.
A heavy metal boot stepped onto the polished marble, echoing sharply through the hall. The King stopped. The smiles in the room faltered.
Sir Valdorn stepped out from the side, moving past Ren and the others. He didn't look at the students. His eyes were fixed on the King. He bowed stiffly, the movement precise and devoid of warmth.
"Your Majesty," Valdorn said, his voice cutting through the hopeful atmosphere like a guillotine. "Forgive the interruption."
King Alaric frowned slightly. "Sir Caelric? Is something wrong?"
"The summoning was indeed fortuitous," Valdorn said, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a slate—the record of the Appraisal results. "We have secured the Hero and several High-Tier assets."
He paused, turning his head slightly. His cold grey eyes drifted past Ren. Past Reiji. Past the nervous girls. They landed on the very back of the group. On the boy standing in the shadows, slouching with his hands in his pockets.
Valdorn turned back to the King, holding out the slate. "However," the Knight Captain said, his voice flat and professional. "There is an… irregularity."
The King blinked. "Irregularity?"
"A logical error in the ritual," Valdorn stated. He pointed a gauntleted finger directly at Sora. "That one. The boy in the grey jacket."
Sora didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched the King, his face unreadable.
"He possesses no Class," Valdorn reported, loud enough for the entire court to hear. "His mana reserves are absolute zero. He has been rejected by the System entirely." Valdorn lowered his hand, his tone turning dismissive. "He is not a Hero, Your Majesty. He is a defect."
The King's benevolent smile vanished. He looked from Valdorn to Sora, his expression shifting from grandfatherly warmth to something colder. Something calculating. "A defect?" the King repeated softly.
Ren felt his blood run cold. The air in the Throne Room, which had felt so hopeful just seconds ago, suddenly felt very, very dangerous.