The classroom buzzed with the low hum of chatter, the shuffle of paper, and the occasional cough or click of a pen. A modern school in the heart of the city—bustling, ordinary, forgettable. Students sat at their desks, eyes front as the teacher paced at the whiteboard, lecturing passionately about history. But in the back corner, one desk remained distant not just in space but in presence.
Ezra Carter sat there, a figure carved from shadow.
Half of his hair was pitch black, the other half silver like moonlight. His golden eyes glinted with sharp focus, not on the board or the lesson, but on nothing at all. He was eighteen, an orphan, and the embodiment of cold silence. A loner. Clever. Watchful. Dark. Haunted.
Ever since the car accident that stole his parents, Ezra had been a ghost in the world of the living. A memory surfaced—
Flashback: The Accident
"Ezra, buckle up," his father said with a warm smile, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
"Where are we going again?" Ezra asked, glancing between his parents.
"Somewhere quiet for the weekend," his mother answered. "Just us. You've been working so hard at school. You deserve it."
The road stretched ahead, winding between hills bathed in the golden hues of sunset. Laughter filled the car. A rare warmth in Ezra's usually guarded life.
Then—
HONK!
A truck swerved into their lane. His father jerked the wheel.
"Hold on!" his mother screamed.
Metal crunched. Tires screeched. The car flipped. Glass shattered. Ezra's body slammed against the seatbelt, everything became a blur of spinning light and blood.
When the world stopped moving, Ezra opened his eyes to smoke.
"Dad? Mom?!" he cried.
His father's hand twitched. "Ezra... run..."
His mother reached toward him, her fingers streaked with blood. "I love y—"
Then her body went still.
The fire engulfed the front of the car.
Ezra screamed, trying to unbuckle himself, reaching out, but the flames roared louder than his cries.
He was dragged away by rescuers moments later.
Why me? he asked the sky, the sirens, the smoke.
Why only me?
Back in the classroom, his eyes remained unfocused.
"Ezra Carter!" the teacher snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "Are you paying attention, or are you too busy being... whatever it is you are?"
Whispers followed.
"He never talks."
"Creepy."
"Probably thinks he's better than us."
Ezra slowly turned his eyes to her, then looked away. The bell rang, shrill and final.
Chairs scraped. Students rushed out. Even the teacher stormed off.
Ezra remained.
They're loud. Fake. Empty, he thought. This place... I don't belong here.
He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and exited into the halls, then into the streets of the city. Glass towers loomed, cars honked, and people moved like ants in a world too loud for his thoughts.
Life is a machine, he thought. Repetitive. Emotionless. Predictable. Pointless.
Then—
The sky darkened.
The air thickened.
A magic circle, glowing with runes, exploded into light beneath his feet.
"What the hell—?!" he cried, staggering as energy surged.
He floated upward, the world spinning—then disappeared in a blink.
The same circle reappeared in a new world.
Ezra and another person materialized midair and dropped onto polished stone with a heavy thud. Runes shimmered and vanished beneath their feet.
They both rose slowly.
The other was tall, athletic, gleaming blond hair brushed back, emerald eyes sharp and cunning. A uniformed student with a sly smile.
"Where are we?" he asked.
Ezra looked around. "Not home. Not Japan either."
"Leonel Grayson," the other boy said. "Call me Leo. And you?"
"Ezra Carter."
Leo nodded, but his eyes remained cautious.
They turned, and awe struck them.
A royal throne room stretched vast and high. Marble floors etched with silver magic. Floating crystal chandeliers. Red and gold banners cascading from the ceiling like wings. Behind them stood nobles, knights, priests, and mages—shocked and whispering.
Priests in crimson and white. High mages with pale faces and glowing staves. Holy knights knelt, spears grounded, eyes sharp.
Ezra's instincts screamed.
Then—a powerful voice rang out:
"Welcome, summoned hero. I am King Alaric Vandarion III."
Ezra and Leo turned toward the throne. A tall man in regal blue, black and gray hair flowing, silver crown resting lightly. His steel-blue eyes locked onto them—then paused.
He blinked, eyes narrowing.
"Wait… there are two of you?"
Whispers erupted across the throne room.
"Another summoned?!"
"Impossible—only one is chosen."
"This must be a mistake... or some divine sign..."
The king turned sharply. "Thalorin, didn't you say the ritual would summon one hero?"
From the shadows stepped an older man, thin, wiry, his violet eyes glowing with runes. Archmage Thalorin Greymist.
"The ritual... was designed for a single chosen soul," he said, voice cold and methodical. "This is... an accident. A deviation I cannot yet explain."
The nobles leaned to one another in hushed tones.
"An accident summoned... how unprecedented."
"The gods must be watching closely."
"What power could this unknown one possess?"
Leo scowled. Why is everyone looking at him? Not me?
"I'm the one you meant to summon, right?" Leo said loudly. "He just tripped in."
Ezra smirked coldly. "Yeah. And I landed in your spotlight."
The king raised a hand. "If fate has brought you both, then perhaps the gods intend something even greater. Welcome, brave souls from another world. You stand now in the Kingdom of Vireldra."
He looked at Leo—but his eyes lingered longer on Ezra, sensing something deeper. Something darker.
Something dangerous.
Leo looked at the king with narrowed eyes. "Why did you summon us here?"
Before the king could speak, a calm, resonant voice echoed through the throne room. "You were summoned here because we need your help... to defeat the Demon Lord who is awakening."
Ezra and Leo turned to the source of the voice.
Up the stairs beside the king's throne, seated on a slightly smaller throne of polished crystal and gold, was a woman of ethereal beauty. She looked to be in her late 30s—tall, elegant, with long platinum-blonde hair cascading like silk, and glacial violet eyes that pierced through any lie. Her presence was both regal and divine. A crown rested on her head like it had always belonged there.
"Who are you?" Leo asked, taken aback by her sudden presence.
The king stepped forward. "This is my wife."
The woman bowed her head slightly. "I am Queen Seraphina Vandarion."
Ezra and Leo stood still, shocked to be speaking with the queen of a powerful kingdom.
Leo straightened. "Leonel Grayson, but call me Leo."
Queen Seraphina nodded once, politely.
Her gaze shifted toward Ezra.
Ezra stood firm. "Ezra Carter."
She nodded again, her expression unreadable. Then she turned to the girl beside her.
Sitting next to the queen on a smaller throne was a girl about their age. Long, soft silver-blonde hair was braided and wrapped with a velvet ribbon. Her iridescent lavender eyes shimmered with curiosity. She wore royal garments and a delicate crown.
The queen gestured. "This is our daughter, the princess."
The girl stood gracefully and curtsied.
"I am Princess Elira Vandarion of the Kingdom of Vireldra. It's an honor to meet you, Summoned Hero Leo."
Leo grinned, charm in full effect. "The honor is mine, Princess."
Princess Elira looked at Ezra, her expression softening.
She gave a gentle nod. "And you as well… Ezra Carter."
Ezra didn't bow. He didn't speak. He simply watched her, expression unreadable.
Then he turned to the king. "How can I go back home?"
The king's expression fell.
"I am… sorry. The ritual works only one way."
Ezra said nothing. His face betrayed no emotion.
Leo glanced at him from the side, thoughts running wild.
This guy again. What's with all the attention on him? I'm the one meant to be here. The hero. He's just… cramping my style. Princess, Queen… even the king. Hah! I'll show them. They'll all see soon enough.
Out loud, Leo asked, "How am I supposed to stop this Demon Lord if I don't have powers? Or skills?"
The king turned to Archmage Thalorin Greymist.
Thalorin stepped forward, leaning slightly on his staff.
"In this world, summoned individuals are bound by a system granted by ancient magical laws. Speak the phrase 'Open Status' and you will see your abilities, powers, and potential."
Leo's eyes lit up. "Seriously? Like a video game?"
Thalorin's eyes narrowed. "Hardly. It is the foundation of your soul's interaction with magic."
Ezra, silently watching, considered the command. Open Status? Worth a try.
Leo said it aloud. "Open Status."
Ezra echoed. "Open Status."
Suddenly, violet screens shimmered into existence before their eyes, hovering midair.
Ezra squinted, taking in the glowing glyphs, the words written in a language he somehow understood.
What is this? he thought. Stats? Skills? Titles? This… is not a dream.
His eyes scanned the contents.
And as the weight of what it all meant began to settle in, he felt something stir in the pit of his soul.
Ezra's golden eyes scanned the violet screen floating before him.
Name: Ezra Carter
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Gluttony Mage
Titles: Summoning Accident, The Unchosen
HP: 100
MP: 150
Strength: 9
Agility: 11
Endurance: 12
Mana: 180
Luck: 7
Charm: 6
Hunger Level: Stable
Normal Skills:
• Appraisal – Allows the user to analyze and understand the properties, strengths, weaknesses, and hidden information of objects, people, monsters, and skills.
Ability Skills: —
Magic Skills: —
Unique Skill:
• Devour – Enables the user to consume physical or magical matter, absorbing traits, energy, or even abilities from defeated enemies or items. Effectiveness and danger vary based on the target. May affect user's stability.
Weapons: —
Items: —
Ezra's brows drew together. Gluttony Mage? Devour? That's it? Just one basic skill and… Devour?
A flicker of crimson lit his eyes for a second—then faded back to gold. He blinked and inhaled slowly.
Whispers stirred around him.
"Gluttony Mage...?"
"That's not a normal class."
"Only two skills? Did the ritual mess up?"
Nobles murmured behind fans and gaudy cloaks. Even the royal mages leaned in, trying to read his screen.
King Alaric and Queen Seraphina exchanged looks. A silent message passed between them—uncertainty wrapped in veiled concern.
That class... the king thought. Why would such a role exist within the summoning system?
Queen Seraphina's thoughts were sharper, colder. 'Devour.' It could mean anything... or everything.
Princess Elira looked at Ezra, worry rising in her gentle eyes. What does that skill mean? Why does it sound... ominous? She felt something in the air shift around him. Something she couldn't name.
Then—
"AWESOME!!" Leo yelled.
Ezra turned to see Leo grinning widely at his own status screen, which hovered in golden light like a holy relic.
Name: Leonel "Leo" Grayson
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder – Hero Variant)
Level: 1
Class: Radiant Hero
Titles: Chosen of the Light, Hero of Prophecy, Savior of the Realm, Worldwalker
HP: 160
MP: 120
Strength: 20
Agility: 18
Endurance: 19
Mana: 130
Luck: 22
Charm: 25
Normal Skills:
• Swordsmanship – Trained proficiency in all types of swords, increasing attack speed and accuracy.
• Battle Intuition – Allows the user to sense danger, anticipate attacks, and react instinctively in combat.
• Bravery Aura – Passively boosts the morale of allies and resists fear-based effects.
• Enhanced Recovery – Accelerates health and mana regeneration over time.
Ability Skills:
• Holy Light Slash – A sword technique imbued with divine light that deals extra damage to dark-aligned foes.
• Hero's Step – Greatly increases movement speed for short bursts; leaves a trail of radiant afterimages.
• Mana Channeling – Converts raw mana into usable energy to strengthen attacks and defenses.
• Divine Guard – Creates a temporary shield of light to protect against incoming attacks.
Magic Sword Skills:
• Lightblade Manifestation – Summons a sword of divine light, effective against evil and cursed beings.
• Blessed Strike – An empowered melee attack that radiates holy damage.
• Holy Cleave – A wide-arcing slash that cuts down multiple enemies, imbued with radiant force.
Unique Skill:
• Divine Authority – Hero's Radiance – Boosts all stats when protecting innocents or fighting evil. Grants resistance to fear, curses, and mind control. Can invoke divine will once per week to heal allies, smite evil, or alter destiny.
Weapon: Goddess-Forged Sword [Lightfang]
Items: Standard Hero's Pack
Leo practically shone with pride.
"Look at these stats! These skills! I've got everything I need to be a hero. Divine Authority? That's epic!"
Then he looked over at Ezra, tone light and fake-sympathetic. "Hey man, it's okay. Some people start slow. One or two skills doesn't mean you won't be useful eventually."
But inside, Leo was laughing.
He's got nothing. What a joke. While I'm blazing in holy light, he's stuck with Devour. What is that even supposed to mean? Gluttony Mage? Sounds like a cursed build.
Ezra didn't respond. He just stared at his own screen, then back at Leo's—expression unreadable.
But something deep inside him stirred.
And the word Devour pulsed faintly on the screen.
As Leo's status screen remained suspended in the air, glowing gold like a divine proclamation, the nobles and royal mages gathered in excitement. Their voices buzzed with awe and praise.
"Radiant Hero… He's the one from the prophecy!"
"Such divine potential... his skills are beyond anything we've seen."
"The Hero of Light has truly arrived in our time of need."
King Alaric and Queen Seraphina exchanged solemn looks.
"This is the power we've been waiting for," the king thought. "His strength will become limitless... He will defeat the Demon Lord."
The queen nodded subtly, her mind spinning. He could be the one to end the prophecy. A weapon of light, born to cleanse darkness.
Princess Elira looked at Leo's screen, the golden glow reflecting in her lavender eyes. Such power... the divine really did send us someone special.
Meanwhile, Leo basked in their praise.
This is it. This is what I deserve. All eyes on me, he thought, grinning. I'll become the greatest hero this world has ever seen. Loved. Revered. Unstoppable.
Ezra, silent as ever, stood back, watching. He could see through Leo's act. But he said nothing.
Let him have it, Ezra thought. Let him be their golden boy.
I need to figure out what I'm going to do... now that I can't go home.
The king raised his voice again. "Radiant Hero Leo—and Ezra—I want you to meet someone."
From beside the throne stepped a man dressed in high-collared crimson and gold vestments, adorned with symbols of flame. He was in his mid-sixties, thin but intimidating, his posture sharp and vulture-like. His pure white hair was slicked back, beard forked and braided with golden chains. His golden eyes glowed eerily under a seven-spiked headdress that resembled a crown of divine fire. A scepter topped with a glass orb of flickering flame rested in his hand.
"I am Cardinal Vexim of the Holy Flame," he said, voice smooth and practiced. "Leader of the Church of Vireldra."
Leo smiled wide. "An honor to meet a high-ranking servant of the gods."
Cardinal Vexim smiled back, his tone oozing false warmth. "The pleasure is all mine, Radiant Hero Leo."
Then his gaze shifted. Cold. Calculating.
Ezra met his stare.
A knowing smirk curled the cardinal's lips. It said: You don't belong here.
"I see," Vexim said with a feigned smile, "the accidental summon. Ezra, is it? My deepest condolences. I hope you'll find comfort in our kingdom."
Ezra nodded silently. But he understood the game. That smile meant nothing.
The king gestured again. "And here," he said, turning to the other side, "is Saintess Mireille."
A girl stepped forward—delicate and graceful, around 17. Her snow-white hair flowed to her shoulders, her soft crystal-blue eyes kind and serene. She wore a priestess gown of white and gold, adorned with sun-spirals and carried a staff topped with a radiant gem.
"Hello, Radiant Hero Leo. And Ezra Carter," she said gently. "It is an honor to meet you both. I am Saintess Mireille."
Leo smiled, his eyes lingering on her. She's beautiful. Holy. Pure. And she's going to be mine.
"I hope we can get to know each other well," he said with a charming bow.
Ezra simply nodded.
Cardinal Vexim placed a hand on Mireille's shoulder. "You will be his light, Mireille. The boy is young, proud, and blessed. But blessings without guidance become wildfire. He is the blade. You are the hand that steadies it."
Leo's smile widened. Perfect. The Saintess and the Hero—what a pair we'll be.
Vexim continued. "He must not stray from the Flame's path. And if he does… you must be the one to bring him back."
Mireille nodded. "Yes, Cardinal. I will guide the Radiant Hero. I will help him stop the awakening Demon Lord."
"Good," Vexim said. "Make the church proud."
"I will," she replied.
The king gestured once more. "And now, meet our final guest."
A man stepped forward—mid-40s, lean but commanding. He wore a dark violet military coat with silver trim, a wolf emblem on the chest. His raven-black hair was swept back with a silver clasp. Piercing steel-gray eyes examined everything.
"I am Duke Malrec Ravonis of Duskmarch. Grand Strategist of the Northern Wall."
He bowed slightly. "It is good to meet you, Sir Leo. The kingdom has its hero."
Leo smiled, nodding. Even the generals respect me.
Malrec looked at Ezra briefly. Their eyes met.
He nodded.
Ezra nodded back.
The king clapped once. "Now then… Leo, your training begins today. You'll need it when facing the Demon Lord's army."
Leo straightened. "I'm ready. Let them come. I'll show the demons not to mess with this hero."
"Good," the king said. "Your instructors await at the training grounds."
Leo turned, heading toward the doors. He looked back at Ezra.
"See ya around, Ezra."
Ezra nodded. "Yeah."
But Leo's thoughts were smug. This is my story now. I've got the church, the power, the girls. Ezra? He's just background noise.
He left.
The nobles and mages followed. Cardinal Vexim and Duke Malrec gave polite farewells to the king and queen—but none to Ezra.
Ezra stood alone in the hall.
The king walked toward him.
"Why not train too, Ezra?" he asked. "With the knights. See what you can become."
Ezra stared at him.
He's being... kind? Ezra thought. That's surprising.
Queen Seraphina added, "You must test your limits. Understand your strength."
Princess Elira stepped up, smiling softly. "You can stay here at the palace. We can help you."
Ezra looked at the three of them—together like a perfect family. A memory stabbed his mind.
His parents.
Their smiles.
The fire.
He clenched his fists, eyes low.
"Are you okay?" Elira asked, noticing the shift.
Ezra shook his head. "Sorry… but I can't stay. I appreciate your kindness. But I need to make it on my own."
The king studied him for a long moment.
There's a fire in this boy, he thought. He reminds me of... myself.
He chuckled. "Very well, my boy."
He signaled to an attendant. The servant brought over a tray.
Ezra was handed a black-and-crimson knife and a heavy pouch.
"Then take these," the king said. "A blade... and 80 million gold. Gifts from the crown."
Ezra blinked. He took them.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Good luck out there," the king replied.
Queen Seraphina and Princess Elira smiled.
"Stay safe, Ezra."
"Be careful out there."
Ezra gave a small nod.
He turned, following the attendant out.
Outside, the wind brushed against his face.
He looked up at the sky.
Let's see what this world really has to offer.
Ezra walked steadily through the streets of the capital, leaving the gleaming towers of the royal palace behind him. The sun was dipping low now, casting long shadows across the cobbled roads.
So this is it, Ezra thought. A new world. A kingdom ruled by flame, royalty, and prophecy. And a Radiant Hero already stealing the spotlight.
He clenched his fist in his coat pocket.
I need to figure out what to do next. I need to understand this Devour skill... and find a place to sleep.
As he wandered through the lively city, he passed merchants calling out their daily specials—vendors selling grilled meat skewers, fried root vegetables, and fresh bread. The scent of spices and roasting meats filled the air.
Whispers of the day's summoning passed through the crowds.
"The Radiant Hero's real! I saw the royal announcement!"
"They say he shines with light when he fights!"
"A divine sword—straight from the gods!"
"He's gonna defeat the Demon Lord for sure."
"The Saintess is going to travel with him—he's already got holy backup!"
"They said he has a unique skill no one else has—Hero's Radiance!"
Ezra walked in silence, letting the noise pass over him like wind.
Children darted through the streets, laughing, shouting to their friends.
"Did you hear?! The Radiant Hero came from another world!"
"My brother said he has golden armor and magic swords!"
"Mom says he'll bring peace to the whole kingdom!"
"My uncle said he'll lead armies and ride a dragon!"
Ezra sighed, his golden eyes half-lidded.
This world has already made up its mind. Leo's the answer to their prayers. And me? Just background noise.
He passed by a blacksmith hammering iron and a tailor working on velvet garments. Then he caught his reflection in a shop window.
His modern clothes—dark hoodie, sneakers, torn jeans—looked completely out of place.
I need new clothes, he thought. I can't walk around looking like I got ripped out of time.
He stepped into a nearby clothing shop.
"Welcome," the shop owner greeted cheerfully. "How can I help you?"
Ezra nodded once. "Just looking."
He moved through the racks until he found a long black and silver coat with high collar, matching trousers, and fingerless gloves. It was sleek, dark, and versatile—like something worn by a traveler in a high-fantasy painting.
He took them to the counter. "I'll take these."
"Excellent choice, sir. Changing room is to your right."
Ezra changed quickly, then stood in front of the mirror.
The reflection staring back felt closer to who he really was.
A loner in a new world. But at least now, I look like I belong.
He left the store, the setting sun casting his long shadow across the city.
As he continued walking, he heard more talk from passing citizens.
"They say the Radiant Hero smiled at the princess herself!"
"He's going to bring down the Demon Lord with a single strike, mark my words!"
"I wish I could be like him..."
"He was chosen by the gods. The other one... wasn't even supposed to be there."
Ezra closed his eyes for a moment.
This place has already chosen its champion.
Eventually, he came across a worn-looking sign swinging gently in the evening breeze:
The Broken Chalice Inn & Tavern
A two-story structure of stone and oak. The sign showed a golden chalice with a jagged crack. Lanterns lit the foggy windows in a soft orange glow. Iron bars lined the upper windows. A quiet stable sat nearby.
Looks solid... and discreet, Ezra thought. Good enough for a place to rest.
He stepped forward and opened the tavern door.
The fire-lit warmth of the interior hit him immediately—wood smoke, roasted meat, cheap ale.
A large hearth glowed on the far wall. Thick wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, dark with soot and age.
As he stepped through the threshold, several heads turned toward him.
"Newcomer."
"Who's that?"
"Wearing black and silver... not a local."
"Looks like he's seen things."
"Too clean to be a merc, too quiet to be a merchant."
Ezra kept walking, eyes scanning the room. Most patrons went back to their drinks, but a few kept glancing his way, whispering behind their mugs.
At the bar, an old man in his late fifties quietly polished a mug. Broad-shouldered, thick salt-and-pepper hair tied back, leather apron over chainmail-lined gear. Eyes sharp as daggers.
But it was the barmaid who approached first.
"Hey there," she said. "Name's Nia Aeralis. Barmaid. How can I help you?"
She was a lean but curvy half-elf, long wavy ash-blonde hair, sharp green-gold eyes, and a no-nonsense demeanor beneath a simple tavern dress and sash.
Ezra looked her over. "Room. And food, please."
Nia raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. Rooms and meals aren't free. Let me—"
Ezra placed a gold coin on the counter.
Nia blinked. "Th-this is too much!"
"It's fine. Take it."
She studied him, then nodded. "Room key's for number 7. Food'll be up in a bit."
Ezra took the key. "Thanks."
As he headed toward the stairs, Nia turned back to the bar.
The older man behind it raised an eyebrow.
"New customer?" he asked in a gravelly tone.
Nia smirked. "Yeah. Quiet. Cold. Polite, though. Gave me a gold coin without blinking."
The man grunted. "Looks distant. But there's something in his eyes."
She chuckled. "You sure about that, old man Granz 'Iron-Leg' Dorran? Not losing your edge?"
He laughed quietly. "Still got it. That kid's got a future. Even if I'm too old to chase mine."
Meanwhile, Ezra made his way down the hall. Turning a corner—
"Ouch!"
He stopped. A boy had fallen on the floor.
Thin, wiry. Dark brown hair in a mess. Big amber eyes. His clothes were too large, and his cheeks smudged with dirt.
Ezra looked down. "Sorry, kid."
"Who you calling kid—" The boy looked up.
Ezra's cold gold eyes stared down at him.
The boy blinked. Ezra extended a hand. The boy hesitated, then took it.
Ezra pulled him up.
"I'm Tim!" the boy said quickly, eyes wide with awe. "Nice to meet you!"
Ezra paused. "Ezra."
He walked past. Tim just stood there, eyes shining.
I just met a legend, he thought.
Ezra reached Room 7, unlocked the door, and stepped in.
The room was small but warm. A single bed, wooden dresser, candle lamp, and a small window overlooking the street. A water basin and a mirror. Cozy and quiet.
He sat down on the bed. Then lay back, arms behind his head.
The ceiling stared back at him.
Today... I was summoned. Mocked. Watched a hero born. Got offered a throne. Turned it down. Met a cardinal who hates me. A saintess too kind. A royal family that felt... real. But I don't belong here.
Still... I'll survive. I'll grow. I'll find what Devour means. And I'll figure out my own path.
He closed his eyes.
Let this journey begin.
To be continued...
.