The Kingdom of Erymoss, known across the continent as The Blade Kingdom, was a land built on strength and discipline. Its people respected steel, and its rulers commanded both blade and magic.
Inside the royal hall, the King and Queen sat upon their thrones while lines of knights stood guard around them. In the center of the hall lay a massive stone circle, engraved with old runes that faintly glowed through the cracks of the marble floor.
Dozens of court mages surrounded it, each positioned inside smaller circles marked with chalk and glowing dust. The air was thick with mana—so dense it felt heavy to breathe.
The King stood from his throne and stepped forward, raising his staff until the jewel at its tip caught the light.
"Mages," he commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Begin the ritual."
The mages nodded and started to chant, their voices overlapping into a deep, rhythmic hum. The runes lit up brighter, the ground beginning to tremble.
"Through the void between worlds, we call.
By the will of Erymoss, we command.
From realms unseen and fates unknown—
let the chosen one cross the veil!"
The glow intensified. Sparks of blue mana flickered through the air as the mages pressed their palms forward, pouring their energy into the circle. The chant grew louder, sharper, unified under the King's final words:
"Hear the call of this world!
Break through the boundary and reveal yourself!
In the name of the Blade Kingdom—We Summon You!"
The runes erupted in light. Wind tore through the room, banners snapped against the walls, and the entire hall shook under the force of the spell.
And then—silence.
The light in the center condensed into a single point… before bursting outward.
The summoning had succeeded.
The light slowly faded, revealing a figure standing in the middle of the summoning circle.
It was… a man in his thirties, wearing a white chef's uniform stained with sauce and oil. His hair was messy, his eyes looked tired, and his entire posture screamed defeat. A faint, awkward smile hung on his face as he trembled in confusion.
A strange, heavy silence filled the room. The mages stared at him, unsure of what they were looking at. Even the knights lowered their weapons, more puzzled than alarmed.
There was something about him—an aura that wasn't of power or mystery—but pure, unmistakable loser energy.
A few of the mages exchanged nervous looks.
"Is… is the summoning a failure?" one whispered.
"No way," another replied, shaking his head. "The ritual only has a two percent fail rate! This shouldn't be possible."
The man blinked, clearly overwhelmed by the dozens of eyes staring at him.
"U-Um… excuse me," he stammered, clutching his hat nervously. "Where… am I? I'm not really good with crowds, you see… I-I kind of have a problem when too many people look at me."
He stepped back slightly, trying to avoid their gazes, his hands trembling as the silence dragged on.
The mighty summoning of another world's hero had succeeded—
but no one in the room knew what to say.
The tension in the room eased slightly as the King stepped forward, lowering his staff. His voice was calm and steady, carrying the weight of authority, yet not without sympathy.
"I am sorry if we startled you," the King said. "Summoning you here without warning was not our intention to cause harm. But our kingdom stands on the edge of crisis. It will not be long before the monsters break through our borders."
The man blinked rapidly, his expression twisting between confusion and disbelief.
"S–Summon…? Monsters…?" he muttered. Then his eyes widened as he realized who was speaking to him. "W–Wait… your highness?"
He straightened his back instinctively but still looked completely lost. His hands fidgeted nervously with the edge of his apron as if that would somehow make this all make sense.
The mages whispered among themselves again, their faces a mix of curiosity and doubt. The knights exchanged glances, silently questioning whether this trembling man in a chef's uniform was really the one meant to save their kingdom.
The King frowned, gripping his staff tighter.
"We don't have much time for idle talk," he said firmly. "I will use my staff's power to reveal your status—and see what blessing the gods have granted you."
He raised the staff, the crystal tip glowing faintly as a beam of light scanned over the confused man.
"Status," the King commanded.
A translucent screen appeared in front of him, glowing softly with divine runes. The King's eyes narrowed as he read, then his voice faltered.
"What… what is this ridiculous name?" he muttered. "Cookalot… John?"
A few mages exchanged puzzled glances. Then, the King's eyes widened in shock.
"How can this be…?" he whispered.
The mages immediately assumed it was good news and erupted in cheers.
"A success!"
"The summoning worked!"
"Praise the goddess!"
But the King's furious voice cut through their celebration.
"Silence! All of you!"
The hall went dead quiet.
"What are you celebrating for?" the King barked. "This man has no skills—none! Not a single blessing from the goddess! He's completely useless to the kingdom!"
Everyone froze. The summoned man looked between them nervously, raising one trembling hand.
> "Uh… I can cook?" he offered. "If that helps? But… if not, can you maybe send me back home?"
The King hesitated, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
"A-about that… we have no way of returning you."
The man's face went pale.
Before anyone could speak again, another mage shouted from across the room.
"My King! My King! Look here—this must be the real hero! Look at him!"
Everyone turned to the second summoning circle, where another young man stood tall, his presence glowing faintly with divine energy.
"He has two rare affinities, Your Majesty!" another mage added excitedly. "Lightning and Light!"
The King's eyes lit up with joy. He rushed toward the new arrival, slamming the base of his staff to the floor.
"Status!"
A second glowing screen appeared, and the King's face broke into a wide grin.
"Yes! This is it! The hero has been found!" he shouted. "Celebrate! For this man will lead Erymoss into a new age!"
Behind him, Cookalot John stood silently—still holding his chef's hat, unsure whether to clap or faint.
The King turned sharply, pointing his staff toward John with a look of cold disappointment.
"As for that man," he said, his voice echoing through the hall. "Give him twenty gold coins and enough food for a week. Then—banish him from the kingdom. We have no need for someone without skill or blessing."
The guards hesitated, glancing at each other.
"Y-Your Majesty… banish him?" one asked quietly.
"You heard me!" the King snapped. "Get him out of here immediately!"
John froze in place, completely stunned.
"W–Wait… banish? You're kicking me out already?" he stammered.
The King didn't even look at him.
"Our kingdom has no room for the powerless. Be grateful we are showing mercy at all."
A pair of knights approached John, their armored boots clanking on the marble floor. One handed him a small pouch of coins and a sack of rations.
"This is your reward," the knight said curtly.
John took them weakly, blinking in disbelief.
"R-reward? For what, existing?" he muttered under his breath.
The knights didn't answer. They grabbed his arm gently—but firmly—and began escorting him toward the large iron doors at the end of the hall.
The grand summoning that was meant to bring forth a savior…
ended with a confused chef being thrown out of the royal palace.