The grand hall of the Marquis's estate was a dizzying display of opulence, practically suffocating under the weight of celebration. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the long banquet tables, which groaned under the weight of roasted boars, exotic fruit towers, and overflowing goblets of crimson wine. The Kingdom had secured a massive victory against a demonic incursion near the eastern border—a victory largely won by the sudden, overwhelming intervention of Hiroto and his vanguard group.
Yet, while the middle-aged nobles in their ruffled silk collars and velvet doublets danced and toasted, the "Heroes" themselves stood huddled in a quiet, shadowy corner of the hall.
Hiroto leaned against a marble pillar, his expression detached as he watched the swirling colors of the dresses. Beside him, Yuuto Ichigami stood with his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the exits out of habit rather than paranoia. Floating a few inches off the ground next to them was Kento Kirishima, his violet-and-white hair drifting like smoke, his violet eyes swirling with idle amusement.
"Ah, the saviors of our domain!" A flushed, overweight noble approached them, raising a jeweled goblet. His breath smelled heavily of fermented grapes. "A toast to the Summoned Heroes! Come, boys, drink! Let the finest wine of the eastern province warm your blood!"
"I politely decline, my lord," Hiroto said smoothly, bowing his head just enough to show respect without yielding authority. "We are still underage in our homeland. We cannot partake in alcohol."
"Oh, nonsense!" Taiyo Natsuki suddenly stepped forward, a wide grin splitting his face as his hand reached for the noble's offered goblet. "When in Rome, right? We're the heroes, we should live a little before the next..."
Smack!
A sharp, perfectly executed knifehand strike landed squarely on the crown of Taiyo's head.
"Ow! What the hell, Reiji?!" Taiyo yelped, rubbing his skull and taking a quick step back.
Reiji Kurokawa adjusted his glasses, his face completely impassive. "Hiroto is right. We are underage. And more importantly, alcohol dulls the senses. We are in a hostile world. Do not let your guard down just because the locals are throwing a party."
Kento laughed softly, his voice carrying a teasing edge. "Lighten up, Reiji. Taiyo's not wrong—we deserve a little celebration. But..." He glanced at the noble's goblet and wrinkled his nose. "That vintage smells like vinegar. If I'm going to break our underage status, it'll be for something better than this swill."
The noble's face flushed even redder, but before he could sputter a response, Kento waved a dismissive hand and floated backward, rejoining the group.
Taiyo scoffed, crossing his arms and pouting like a scolded child. "You're too stiff, Reiji. Seriously, it hurts when you hit me! We got dragged into another world to fight monsters. The least we can do is enjoy the perks before we have to face another death battle."
"Enjoy the food, then," Yuuto chimed in, nodding toward the buffet.
Right on cue, Kenji Lopez approached them, his arms entirely full of silver platters stacked precariously high with roasted meats, pastries, and cheese. He was chewing rapidly, completely ignoring the disgusted looks of the passing nobility. Catching Hiroto's gaze, Kenji swallowed hard and offered a plate. "What? Fighting burns calories. I brought some for you guys, too."
As the group bickered and ate, Reiji turned away, hiding his face in the shadows. He gripped his own forearm, his knuckles turning white.
Kento noticed. His violet eyes narrowed, the playful smirk fading from his lips. He floated closer to Reiji, lowering his voice so only the other boy could hear. "You're doing it again. The arm thing. What's actually wrong?"
"Nothing," Reiji muttered, not meeting his gaze.
"You're a terrible liar," Kento said softly. But he didn't press further—not here, not in front of the others.
A sharp, searing pain pulsed deep inside Reiji's chest—a localized agony that felt like a hot iron pressing against his organs. He gritted his teeth, suppressing a groan. Not again, he thought desperately.
This internal torment had been growing for weeks. It wasn't an injury from the demons. He had secretly visited the finest doctors in the Kingdom, and even requested an audience with the high Cardinals to check his mana circuits. The doctors had found no physical ailments, and the Cardinals claimed his soul was "radiant with divine blessing." They had no answers. Reiji feared the truth: whatever was breaking him down was something born from the System itself, and he was terrified of what would happen when he finally broke.
Location: The Vaeloria Kingdom - Adventurers Guild Inn
Hundreds of miles away, the atmosphere in a private room of the Vaeloria Adventurers Guild was considerably less celebratory, and much more embarrassing.
The Vanguard group of the Vaeloria Kingdom had spent the last several weeks aggressively wandering the monster-infested zones, grinding their levels with a brutal, systematic efficiency. They had officially reached Rank A. Rina, utilizing her unmatched analytical skills and precise spell-casting, possessed the highest overall stats.
But their greatest liability had been Tatsuya. His Ultimate Skill, an auto-activating berserker state, had nearly cost him his mind. Rina had recognized the danger immediately. Spending a massive chunk of her mana, she had utilized a high-tier—but not Ultimate—Sealing Art to lock away both his Ultimate Skill and his related Title, tethering his sanity back to reality.
Now, they were resting in the inn. The door suddenly kicked open, and Tatsuya swaggered in, an overconfident, sheepish grin plastered across his face.
"Behold!" Tatsuya announced loudly, slamming a massive, rolled-up parchment onto the wooden table. "I, with my incredible haggling skills, have acquired the rarest item in the Vaelorian markets! A complete, detailed map of the entire continent!"
Rina, Saki, and the remaining students gathered around the table. Saki tilted her head, looking at the rather ordinary-looking parchment.
Rina let out a long, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Tatsuya-kun... how much money did you spend on this?"
Tatsuya puffed out his chest, scratching the back of his head with a proud laugh. "Only two Gold Crown coins! The merchant said it was a steal!"
The room fell dead silent.
"Sit," Rina commanded, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm, absolute zero.
"Uh, what?"
"Seiza. On the floor. Now."
Five seconds later, Tatsuya was kneeling on the wooden floorboards in the traditional, painful seiza position, looking up at Rina as she loomed over him with her arms crossed.
"Two Gold Crowns," Rina said, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Tatsuya-kun, you might be a god at video games back in Tokyo, but your grasp on reality is nonexistent. Do you know how much a standard map of the continent costs at the Guild reception desk?"
"Uh... one gold?" Tatsuya guessed weakly.
"Three. Copper. Coins," Rina enunciated every word, tapping her foot. "You just spent the equivalent of a middle-class family's yearly income on a piece of paper you could have bought downstairs with pocket change! We all already have maps in our System inventories!"
Saki and a few of the other students couldn't hold it back anymore; they burst into quiet chuckles, trying to hide their faces behind their hands. Tatsuya’s face burned bright red with humiliation.
However, one student wasn't laughing at all.
Kaito Nakamura leaned against the wall near the window, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Tatsuya. Kaito was naturally quiet, observing everything. He knew Tatsuya wasn't just stupid; his cognitive functions had been slightly degraded ever since Rina placed the seal on his mind. Kaito's eyes narrowed. The seal was keeping Tatsuya sane, but at what cost to his baseline intelligence?
Location: Frontierra - Forward Operating Outpost
The tactical room was cold, lit only by a massive hearth fire and glowing magical stones embedded in the stone table.
Shiori stood at the head of the table, her newly white hair tied back, stark against her dark uniform. Surrounding her were Saintess Evelyn, three heavily armored Holy Knights of Frontierra, and two Church Heroes, easily identifiable by the golden cross insignias woven into their cloaks.
They were reviewing the topographical layout of the Demon Fortress. But Shiori’s mind was still racing, solving a terrifying logic puzzle regarding their powers. She needed confirmation.
"Before we finalize the vanguard formations," Shiori interrupted, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the knights. "I have a question regarding magical theory. Specifically, Ultimate Skills. When you Church Heroes utilize your Ultimates... what is the physical or spiritual toll?"
The taller Church Hero, a man with a scarred jaw, looked at her in confusion. "Ultimate Skills? Lady Shiori, we do not possess Ultimate Skills. Those are divinely gifted anomalies. They are practically exclusive to the Summoned Heroes of the prophecy."
Shiori’s breath hitched slightly, but she maintained her composure. She turned her gaze to Saintess Evelyn. "But Evelyn possesses one. [Aura of the Goddess]. Does she not?"
"I do, Lady Shiori," Evelyn nodded gracefully.
A Holy Knight leaned forward, resting his gauntlets on the table. "And to answer your question, Hero... there are no 'disadvantages' or physical tolls for such divine miracles. Her Eminence’s Ultimate Skill simply consumes a vast quantity of Mana. Once her MP is depleted, she must rest. That is the only limitation. The Goddess does not curse those she blesses."
The air in Shiori’s lungs turned to ice.
No disadvantages. Evelyn healed armies without losing her lifespan. The Church Heroes fought without losing their minds. It was only them. Shiori was losing her life. Shota was trapped in psychological torture.
The System wasn't universally flawed. The Goddess Kamiya had intentionally built these horrifying penalties directly into the Summoned Students' operating systems. They weren't given miracles; they were given cursed weapons, designed to burn the user alive to power the blast.
Why? Shiori’s mind raced. Why summon us, bless us, and then rig us to self-destruct? Are we just disposable bombs to her?
She forced her face into a mask of calm. "I understand," Shiori said smoothly. "Thank you for the clarification. Now, regarding the command structure of the Demon Fortress. We faced Lady Sylas, the Lich. But their primary vanguard commander was a human who wielded abyssal magic. General Vane. What intelligence does the Kingdom have on him?"
The room went deathly quiet. The Holy Knights exchanged uncomfortable, darkened looks. Even Evelyn lowered her eyes to the floor.
"You do not know?" the scarred Church Hero asked softly.
"Know what?" Shiori demanded, her patience wearing thin.
"General Vane is not a native of this world, Lady Shiori," the Knight finally admitted, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "He does not appear in our historical census because he was not born here."
Shiori froze.
"Twenty years ago," the Knight continued, his voice grim. "Before your generation was called upon, the Goddess summoned a single champion to push back the Abyss. A young man of unparalleled strength."
The Knight looked directly into Shiori's eyes.
"General Vane is the Previous Summoned Hero. He is the one who betrayed the Goddess, slaughtered his own party, and surrendered his soul to the Demons."
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