The word "defect" hung in the air like smoke. Valdorn's finger was still pointed at Sora, an accusation made of steel and leather. The nobles along the wall whispered behind their hands, their eyes darting between the glorious, glowing Hero and the grey, empty boy at the back.
Ren held his breath. He stepped sideways, half-shielding Sora from the King's gaze. He expected shouting. He expected guards to rush in. He expected the King to order Sora to be thrown back into the dungeon—or worse.
But King Alaric didn't scream. He didn't frown in disgust. Instead, his shoulders slumped. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a profound, heavy sadness.
"A defect…" the King repeated softly.
He stood up from the throne. But instead of commanding the guards, he walked slowly down the stairs of the dais. His heavy robes trailed behind him as he moved past Valdorn, ignoring his general entirely. He stopped right in front of Sora.
Sora stiffened. He kept his hands in his pockets, but his knuckles were white. He looked ready to run, or maybe to fight, though he knew he couldn't win. King Alaric reached out. Ren flinched—but the King didn't strike. He placed a wrinkled, warm hand gently on Sora's shoulder.
"I am so sorry, my boy," the King whispered.
The silence in the room broke. Valdorn blinked, his stoic mask cracking for a split second. "Your Majesty?"
The King ignored him. He looked into Sora's eyes with an expression that was worse than anger. It was pity. Pure, unfiltered pity. The kind you give to a wounded animal that can't be saved.
"It is not your fault," Alaric said gently. "You were pulled from your home, just like the others. You expected to be a hero. You expected power. And instead… fate has given you nothing." The King shook his head, looking genuinely pained. "To be summoned to a world of war without the strength to defend yourself… it is a cruel destiny. I apologize that our ritual has burdened you with such weakness."
Sora's jaw tightened. He looked at the King's hand on his shoulder. "I don't need an apology," Sora said, his voice quiet but sharp. "I just want to know what happens to me now."
"Your Majesty," Valdorn interrupted, stepping forward. His voice was hard. "Forgive me, but sympathy does not change facts. The boy has zero mana. He has no Class. He cannot contribute to the war effort. Resources are scarce—we cannot afford to coddle a civilian."
"Sir Valdorn," the King said, his voice sharpening just a fraction. "Are we barbarians? Do we discard people simply because they are not useful to us?" Valdorn clamped his mouth shut, though his jaw worked in irritation.
The King turned back to Sora, his face softening again. "Sir Caelric is harsh, but he is not entirely wrong about the danger. The path of the Hero… the path Ren and the others must walk… is one of blood and fire. They will face monsters that can shatter steel. They will dive into dungeons where the air itself is poisonous." Alaric squeezed Sora's shoulder gently. "You cannot go with them, my boy. You would die in an instant. And I will not have your blood on my conscience."
Ren stepped forward, relief flooding his chest so fast it made him dizzy. "So… he's safe?" Ren asked. "He doesn't have to fight?" "He does not have to fight the Demon Lord," the King confirmed, looking at Ren with a reassuring smile. "It would be suicide."
"But," the King continued, looking back at Sora. "We cannot send you home. Not until the Demon Lord is defeated and the dimensional instability is fixed. You are stuck here." Sora looked up. "So I just… sit around?"
"I will not strip you of your dignity," the King said benevolently. "A man needs purpose. If you wish, you may join the Kingdom's military training program." Valdorn looked like he wanted to object, but the King raised a hand to silence him. "Not the Hero's regiment," Alaric clarified. "That is too advanced. But the standard infantry. The recruits. You can train with the city guards. You will learn to hold a sword, to defend yourself, to find some… small measure of strength. It will be hard, but at least you will not feel helpless."
Ren let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It wasn't perfect. But it was safe. "That sounds… that sounds okay, right?" Ren asked, turning to Sora. "You can train here, inside the walls. And when we beat the Demon Lord, we all go home together."
Sora looked at Ren. He saw the genuine relief in the Hero's eyes. Ren really believed this was a kindness. Then Sora looked at the King. The old man was smiling kindly, but the message was clear: Go play soldier with the kids while the real adults save the world. It was humiliating. It was a participation trophy. But what choice did he have?
"Sure," Sora said, his voice flat. "Sounds like a blast."
The King beamed. "Excellent. It is settled then." He turned back to the dais, his regal bearing returning instantly. "Sir Valdorn." "Yes, Your Majesty," the knight grunted.
"You will take charge of the Hero," the King commanded. "Ren Takashi possesses the Divine Blessing. He requires the finest instruction Altherion has to offer. You will train him personally."
Ren's eyes widened. "Me? With… him?" He looked at the terrifying knight captain. Valdorn turned to Ren. The disgust he had shown Sora vanished, replaced by a critical, evaluating stare. "It will not be easy, Hero," Valdorn said. "I will break you down and build you into a weapon worthy of that title. Do not expect rest." Ren swallowed hard, but nodded. "I… I'll do my best."
"Reiji, Daigo, Ayaka, and the others," the King continued. "You will be assigned to the Royal Instructors for your specific classes. The Mages of the Tower will take the spellcasters. The Vanguard Captains will take the warriors."
"And the boy?" Valdorn asked, gesturing loosely at Sora. "Have Sergeant Kaelen take him," the King said dismissively, waving a hand. "He runs the drills for the new recruits in the outer barracks. That should be sufficient for his… level."
Valdorn nodded. "As you wish."
The King clapped his hands together. "Now! Enough grim talk. The banquet awaits! Eat, drink, and rest. Tomorrow, your new lives begin."
As the students began to move toward the side doors where the smell of roasted meat was wafting in, the tension finally broke. Daigo slapped Ren on the back. "Did you hear that? Personal training with the boss! You're gonna be a beast, Ren!" "Yeah," Ren laughed nervously. "Or I'm gonna die on day one."
Ren glanced back. Sora was walking behind them again. He wasn't looking at anyone. "Hey, Sora," Ren called out, slowing down. "At least we're all staying in the castle, right? We can still hang out after training."
Sora looked at Ren. Ren, who glowed with gold light. Ren, who was being trained by the strongest knight in the kingdom. Sora, who was being sent to the "outer barracks" to swing sticks with the grunts because the King pitied him.
"Yeah," Sora lied, forcing a corner of his mouth up. "Totally. We'll hang out."
Ren smiled, satisfied, and turned back to talk to Rika. Sora watched him go. He doesn't get it, Sora thought, the bitterness finally leaking into his mind. He thinks we're still classmates.But we're not.He's the protagonist.And I'm just the NPC they felt sorry for.