Somewhere on modern Earth, in the crowded, humming halls of Crescent City High, life passed in forgettable rhythms. The air buzzed with the low murmur of adolescent chatter, fluorescent lights flickering faintly above a room filled with yawning students. In Room 2C, a history teacher's voice droned over the rise and fall of early empires.
"And so the Tokugawa shogunate maintained peace for over two hundred years—"
Students sat at their desks, notes half-written, doodles in the margins. Some scrolled through phones under their desks, others whispered about parties or weekend plans.
But at the very back of the room, separate from everyone else, sat Ezra Carter.
Half-black, half-silver hair shrouded part of his face. His gold eyes didn't blink much, scanning the textbook like it owed him answers. He was silent, cold, unmoving—like a statue sculpted from shadow and sorrow.
Ezra Carter was eighteen.
An orphan.
A mystery.
A scar that walked like a man.
He didn't speak to anyone. Not because he couldn't, but because he wouldn't. Not since the accident. The one that left his body intact but his soul fractured. His parents had died screaming as twisted metal crushed their car. Ezra had been the only one to crawl out, bloodied, glass in his hands, his voice hoarse from screaming their names. He could still hear it—the sickening crunch of steel, his mother's last breath.
If being cold, dark, clever, and emotionally numb counts as ordinary, Ezra thought, then I'm just your everyday guy.
FLASHBACK
Rain poured in silver sheets against the windshield. Ezra sat in the back seat, earbuds in, head resting against the glass.
His father gripped the wheel tightly, glancing back. "You okay back there, champ?"
Ezra pulled one earbud out. "Yeah. Just tired."
His mother turned slightly from the passenger seat. "We'll be home soon. Then it's hot chocolate and that movie you picked."
Ezra offered a faint smile. "Sounds good."
Then—a horn. Bright lights. Tires screaming.
A truck skidded into their lane, too fast.
"David, look out!" his mother screamed.
Ezra's father yanked the wheel. The car spun. Metal tore. Glass shattered. Ezra screamed—
The car flipped.
Darkness. Pain.
Ezra opened his eyes to smoke and fire. His father's body slumped over the steering wheel, unmoving.
"Dad?"
No answer.
He turned. His mother was pinned, blood seeping from a gash in her forehead.
"Mom! MOM!"
Her eyes barely opened. She looked at him. Smiled weakly.
"Ezra… live. Just… live…"
And then her eyes went dim.
Ezra screamed as flames roared around him. He punched the shattered window, crawled through broken glass, tore his arms. Sirens wailed in the distance.
He knelt in the rain beside the wreckage.
Alive.
Alone.
END FLASHBACK
The chalk snapped in the teacher's hand as she turned.
"Ezra Carter," she barked. "Are you even listening? Opinions on the policy of isolationism?"
All heads turned toward him. A few students snickered.
"He's always in his own world."
"Creepy dude never says a word."
"I bet he's plotting our deaths."
Ezra looked at the teacher.
Then looked away.
The bell rang.
Chairs scraped.
People flooded out, laughing and shouting.
The teacher sighed and left too.
Only Ezra remained.
He leaned back in his seat, arms folded. Same noise. Same stares. Same empty faces. I don't belong here. I never did.
With a sigh, he rose, picked up his tattered black hoodie, and slung his bag over one shoulder. He walked through the emptying school, into the buzz of the city beyond.
Crescent City was gray and alive. Ezra moved like a ghost between honking cars and flickering signs. People passed him without seeing him.
Life's a joke, he thought. A noisy, messy comedy where the punchline is always pain.
But then—the sky darkened.
The air grew heavy.
Ezra stopped walking.
A glowing magic circle appeared beneath his feet, inscribed with symbols he didn't recognize.
"What the hell—"
He floated. His body trembled.
And then—
He vanished.
—
A moment later, light flared inside an enormous cathedral.
The same glowing magic circle appeared again—this time under two people.
Ezra Carter.
And a boy he'd never seen before.
They hit the polished stone platform hard, dropping to their knees. It was etched with glowing runes, humming with power.
Ezra stood quickly, eyes flicking to the stranger beside him.
Athletic. Gleaming blond hair. Emerald eyes that looked too sharp for comfort.
The boy stared at him. "Where... where are we?"
Ezra scanned the towering marble walls, the chandeliers of floating crystals, the banners red and gold like wings.
"This isn't home," he muttered. "Hell, it's not even Japan."
The blond kid stood up straighter. "Name's Leonel Grayson. Call me Leo. You?"
"Ezra. Carter."
"Ezra..." Leo echoed. "So... where are we?"
They turned slowly.
Behind them—nobles, mages, priests, knights. An entire audience.
White and crimson-robed priests stood frozen, eyes wide.
High mages in ornate cloaks clutched glowing staffs.
Holy knights in armor gleamed beneath stained-glass light, kneeling with spears planted firm.
And then—a voice.
Calm. Commanding.
"Welcome, summoned hero."
Ezra and Leo turned sharply.
A tall figure descended from a jeweled throne. His cloak of royal blue trailed behind him, crown glinting in the light.
"I am King Alaric Vandarion III. We are honored by your presence in our time of need—"
He stopped.
Eyes narrowed.
"Wait… There are two of you."
Murmurs erupted across the hall.
Nobles leaned to one another, voices sharp and confused.
"Two? That can't be right."
"Was the ritual tampered with?"
"Which one is the true hero?"
"An accident... or divine interference?"
One royal mage whispered to another, "This has never happened before. The summoning spell is exact. This boy—" he nodded toward Ezra, "—he's... an anomaly."
A priest muttered, "One summoned by fate. The other... by mistake?"
Thalorin stepped forward, eyes glowing dimly. "This should be impossible. The spell... was designed for a single soul. Something interfered."
Leo's jaw clenched.
Why's everyone looking at him? Leo thought bitterly. He's not even supposed to be here.
Ezra stood still, arms folded, expression unreadable. But the voices reached him. Every whisper, every stare.
"Well," Leo muttered, "I'm the one you meant to summon, right? This guy just... tripped in."
Ezra's voice was ice. "Yeah. And I landed in your spotlight."
King Alaric raised a hand, composed again. "If fate has brought you both, then the gods may have a purpose we do not yet understand."
He looked at Leo—but his eyes lingered on Ezra.
"Welcome, brave souls from another world. You stand now in the kingdom of Vireldra."
Ezra said nothing.
But behind his silence, something dangerous stirred.
Leo looked sharply at the king, suspicion in his eyes.
"Why did you summon us here?"
Before King Alaric could answer, a new voice echoed from the grand stairs to his left. Calm, clear, laced with power and mystery.
"You were summoned because we need your help. The Demon Lord is awakening."
Both Ezra and Leo turned their heads in unison, eyes rising to a second throne—slightly smaller, yet no less magnificent—beside the king's.
Sitting there was a woman who looked no older than her late thirties, yet her presence filled the throne room like a divine breeze. Tall and graceful, she had long platinum-blonde hair that shimmered like moonlight, glacial violet eyes that missed nothing, and a crown that rested atop her head with the ease of someone born to rule.
She exuded both warmth and warning.
Leo's eyes widened. "Who... who are you?"
King Alaric stepped forward. "This is my wife. The Queen of Vireldra."
The woman rose gracefully from her throne, offered a slight, respectful bow.
"I am Queen Seraphina Vandarion."
Ezra and Leo exchanged glances. It was one thing to be summoned to a magical world, but another to stand before royalty.
"I'm Leonel Grayson," Leo said, straightening. "But call me Leo."
Queen Seraphina nodded once, cool but approving.
Her gaze shifted toward Ezra.
He met her eyes, unreadable. "Ezra Carter."
The Queen's violet gaze lingered a second longer before she nodded again.
Then she turned to the girl beside her. A younger woman, dressed in flowing royal attire, with long silver-blonde hair braided in velvet ribbon, and eyes like iridescent lavender gemstones.
"This is our daughter," Seraphina said. "Princess Elira Vandarion of the Kingdom of Vireldra."
Elira smiled warmly, stepping forward with genuine kindness. "Nice to meet you, summoned hero Leo."
Leo bowed, grinning. "Pleasure's mine, princess."
Then her gaze moved to Ezra. She smiled again and nodded slightly.
Ezra didn't move. He stood in place, unsure whether to bow or speak. He simply said, "How can I go back home?"
The air grew heavy.
King Alaric's expression darkened with regret. "I am sorry… but the ritual only works one way. There is no return."
Ezra gave no reaction. No visible pain, no anger. Just silence. Like a wall.
Inside, Leo was boiling with thoughts.
This guy's ruining everything. He's stealing my spotlight. He's getting all the attention—even from the Queen. And the Princess? She looked at him longer than me. Tch… annoying. Whatever. He won't matter once I become the hero of this world.
Leo turned back to the king, raising his voice. "How can I stop some Demon Lord if I don't even have powers or skills?"
The king gestured to the side.
Archmage Thalorin Greymist stepped forward, violet runes flickering in his eyes.
"The system will assist you. Magic, combat, skills—all are bound to the Status Interface."
Leo frowned. "Status Interface?"
"Simply say, 'Open Status,'" Thalorin instructed, "and your potential will appear before you."
Ezra raised a brow, intrigued but cautious. If this world runs on magic and rules… I need to know mine.
Both of them spoke at once.
"Open Status."
A shimmering violet screen materialized in front of their faces. Floating text, organized menus, pulsing with life and arcane logic.
Ezra stared at it.
So this is the system... It's like something out of a game, but real. Let's see what secrets you're hiding.
He began reading.
Ezra stared at the violet screen floating before him, glowing faintly in midair. Lines of arcane data scrolled past, solidifying into readable text.
Name: Ezra Carter
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Gluttony Mage
Titles: Summoning Accident, The Unchosen
HP (Health Points): 230 / 230
MP (Magic Points): 410 / 410
Strength: 8
Agility: 11
Endurance: 9
Mana: 15
Luck: 6
Charm: 5
Hunger Level: Moderate
Normal Skills:
Appraisal: Allows the user to analyze objects, people, monsters, and magical items to reveal detailed information about them. The more the user focuses, the deeper the insight. May fail on stronger targets.
Ability Skills: —
Magic Skills: —
Unique Skill:
Devour: Consumes enemies, skills, or magical constructs to permanently absorb traits, abilities, or magical energy. Has no upper limit but induces mental and physical strain if overused. May corrupt the user's mind over time.
Weapons: None
Items: None
Ezra blinked. What... the hell is this?
His eyes narrowed as he re-read the information. "I only have two skills?" he whispered. "Appraisal... and Devour?"
His class name glared back at him: Gluttony Mage.
Not Fire Mage. Not Arcane Knight. Not even a Battlemage... Gluttony Mage? His thoughts raced. What kind of useless class is that?
Suddenly, a flicker of red surged through his irises—just for a second—before returning to their usual gold. No one but the princess noticed.
Gasps rippled through the throne room.
"A Gluttony Mage?" a noble whispered.
"A class tied to... forbidden hunger?"
"Devour sounds dangerous..."
The king and queen exchanged uneasy glances.
"Gluttony Magic... That's an obscure and unstable branch," King Alaric muttered.
Queen Seraphina's expression remained composed, but her eyes were sharp. "It's a class that has caused kingdoms to fall in the past. But... it also holds limitless potential."
Princess Elira watched Ezra intently, her thoughts conflicted. Devour... That's not just a power. It's a curse and a temptation. What kind of person was given that gift... or burden?
Before Ezra could think further, Leo's voice boomed beside him.
"AWESOME!"
Ezra turned.
Leo was grinning at his own glowing status screen, practically vibrating with pride.
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 (Health Points): 480 / 480
MP (Magic Points): 320 / 320
Strength: 21
Agility: 18
Endurance: 20
Mana: 25
Luck: 16
Charm: 19
Normal Skills:
Swordsmanship: Skilled in various sword techniques, enhances damage and precision when using blades.
Battle Intuition: Allows instinctive reactions in combat, enhancing evasion and counterattacks.
Bravery Aura: Emits an aura that boosts morale and resistance to fear for nearby allies.
Enhanced Recovery: Regenerates HP and MP faster than average over time.
Ability Skills:
Holy Light Slash: A powerful slash imbued with light magic that damages evil-aligned enemies.
Hero's Step: Greatly increases speed and precision for a short burst, allowing near-teleportation movements.
Mana Channeling: Enhances any action by pouring raw mana into it, increasing power at the cost of energy.
Divine Guard: Creates a magical barrier that blocks damage and purifies dark magic.
Magic Sword Skills:
Lightblade Manifestation: Summons a blade of condensed holy light. Damage scales with mana.
Blessed Strike: A technique that bypasses magical defenses and heals allies nearby.
Holy Cleave: A wide, arcing slash that targets multiple enemies and sears undead or cursed foes.
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 turn the tide of battle.
Weapon:
Goddess-Forged Sword [Lightfang]: A blade made by the Divine Smith. Glows with celestial light. Increases damage against dark creatures.
Items:
Adventurer's Pack: Basic supplies for long travel.
Lightscrolls: Scrolls that create temporary holy light zones.
Blessed Medallion: Protects against low-level curses and dark magic.
Leo laughed confidently. "Look at this! I've got everything. Skills, weapons, even divine power!"
He glanced sideways at Ezra and smirked. "Hey, man. It's okay. Not everyone starts strong. I'm sure your... 'Devour' thing is cool in its own way."
But behind the grin, Leo's thoughts churned darkly. This guy only has two skills? What a joke. And he's supposed to be my rival? Ha. Devour? Sounds like a monster's power. I'm the hero here. The Chosen One. He's just a mistake.
Ezra didn't respond.
His eyes lingered on the word Devour.
What are you... really?
The nobles and royal mages leaned forward, eyes wide as they reviewed Leo's status screen.
"Amazing..."
"A divine-class hero, chosen by the light itself."
"His abilities… they're beyond anything we've seen in a century."
"He is the Radiant Hero. The one from the prophecy!"
King Alaric exchanged a meaningful look with Queen Seraphina.
"He truly is the one," the king said, voice proud and steady. "With power like that, he will defeat the Demon Lord."
The queen, sharp-eyed and calm, nodded slowly. "And once his power reaches its peak... there may be no force on this world or another that could stand against him."
Princess Elira's lavender eyes lingered on Leo's screen. His strength... it's dazzling. His skills are like something out of the old legends. He may truly be the key to saving Vireldra.
Leo soaked it in—the praise, the awe, the reverence.
Yes, he thought, yes... this is how it should be. I'm the Radiant Hero. The whole world will know my name. They'll love me, worship me, beg for my favor. And power? I'll take it all.
He glanced briefly at Ezra. Let him brood. This world doesn't need a shadow. It needs a sun.
Ezra, arms folded, watched Leo silently. He saw it. The ego. The hunger. He said nothing, but inside, he knew exactly what kind of person Leo was. But I'm not here to expose anyone. Let him have his throne. I've got my own path.
Ezra's eyes drifted back to the sky outside the cathedral's window. I can't go home… So what now?
King Alaric stepped forward. "Radiant Hero Leo. Ezra. I would like you to meet several of Vireldra's most important leaders."
He gestured to his right.
An older man stepped forward, tall and thin, with the posture of a rigid tower. His white hair was slicked back beneath a seven-spiked golden headdress that shimmered like divine fire. A long, forked beard was braided with golden chains and flame symbols. He wore heavy crimson and gold vestments adorned with burning suns and radiant swords, a glowing orb of holy flame resting in a staff-scepter clutched in his hand.
"I am Cardinal Vexim of the Holy Flame, spiritual leader of Vireldra," he announced with commanding reverence.
Leo smiled, respectful. "It's an honor to meet such a powerful servant of the divine."
Vexim smiled thinly. "The pleasure is all mine, Radiant Hero Leo."
Then his golden gaze slid to Ezra. He held his stare for a beat too long. His eyes were cold—dismissive. And then he gave a sharp, false smile.
"Ah yes, the accidental summon. Ezra Carter. I am... sorry you were torn from your home. I hope you find something to enjoy here."
Ezra met his gaze without flinching. That look… I've seen it before. You don't see a person. You see a problem.
The king then looked to the other side.
Beside Vexim stood a beautiful girl, no older than seventeen. Delicate and graceful, with silky snow-white hair to her shoulders, and soft crystal blue eyes. She wore flowing white and gold priestess robes adorned with sun-spiral motifs, a silver belt etched with prayer runes, and carried a relic staff topped with a radiant sunburst gem.
She stepped forward with a kind smile. "Hello, Radiant Hero Leo. Ezra Carter. I am Saintess Mireille. It is a pleasure to meet you both."
Leo bowed with a charming smile. "The pleasure's all mine, Saintess. I hope we get to know each other well."
But inside, his thoughts churned. She's mine. A saintess and beautiful? She belongs beside the hero. Beside me.
Ezra simply nodded. "Nice to meet you."
Cardinal Vexim looked to Mireille. "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 beamed. Yes... I'll have a divine woman by my side. It's perfect.
Vexim continued. "He must not stray from the Flame's path. And if he does... you must bring him back."
Mireille nodded. "Yes, Cardinal Vexim. I will guide the Radiant Hero with faith and compassion. It is my duty to help him defeat the Demon Lord."
"Good. Make the Church proud," Vexim replied.
"Yes, Cardinal. I will."
Then the king motioned to a man standing tall and cold nearby. Mid-40s, lean but noble. He wore a high-collared dark violet coat trimmed with silver, and a ceremonial saber hung from his belt. Raven-black hair was swept back and bound with a silver clasp. His steel-gray eyes were sharp and calculating.
"I am Duke Malrec Ravonis, Duke of Duskmarch. Grand Strategist of the Northern Wall."
He looked at Leo. "It is good to meet you, Sir Leo. The kingdom is blessed to have a hero to save them."
Leo nodded. "Thank you. I won't let you down."
Malrec's eyes flicked to Ezra. A pause. A nod.
Ezra nodded back.
Then King Alaric stepped forward again. "That is everyone. Radiant Hero Leo, your training begins today. You will need every ounce of strength for what lies ahead."
Leo puffed his chest. "I'm ready. Let's show the Demon Lord's army what they're up against."
"Good," said the king. "I've assigned instructors at the royal training grounds. They await your arrival."
Leo grinned, already walking. "On my way." He turned briefly, waving to Ezra. "See ya around, Ezra."
Ezra waved back with a nod.
But Leo's internal voice cackled. I'm the real deal. The kingdom needs me. And now I have the saintess. Soon? More power. More women. Ezra's just a background character in my story.
Leo disappeared through the cathedral doors.
The nobles and royal mages left shortly after. Vexim and Malrec offered final bows to the king and queen, saying nothing to Ezra.
Ezra remained.
Alone.
The royal family lingered.
King Alaric stepped toward him. "Why don't you join the knights? Train with Leo. Discover your strength."
Ezra stared at him a moment.
He's... being kind? Why?
Queen Seraphina nodded. "You should understand your powers. See what you're capable of."
Princess Elira stepped forward. "Stay at the palace. Let us help you."
Ezra looked at the three of them.
Smiling.
A happy family.
Memory surged—his parents, smiling in their car, reaching back toward him.
He looked down.
Clenched his fist.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "But I can't stay. I appreciate your kindness. But I need to make it on my own. Without anyone's help."
King Alaric studied him, then chuckled. "The fire in you… reminds me of myself at your age."
He nodded to an attendant.
The man stepped forward, holding a tray.
On it—a black and crimson knife, and a heavy leather bag.
Ezra took them.
"Eighty million gold," the king said. "And a blade to keep you alive. Go, if that's your will. But go prepared."
Ezra was stunned, just for a second. Then he nodded. "Thank you."
Queen Seraphina smiled faintly. "Be careful out there."
Princess Elira added, "Stay healthy, Ezra. Please."
Ezra nodded.
Then he left.
As the palace doors closed behind him, Ezra stepped into the sunlight. He looked to the sky, inhaled deeply.
This is my world now.
Let the journey begin.
To be continued...