Somewhere in the modern world called Earth, the sun was beginning its lazy descent behind the towers of steel and glass, casting long shadows across the pavement. A red-haired young man strolled through the city streets with a swagger that was both careless and calculated. Golden-red eyes gleamed in the dying light, sharp and alert behind a wall of sarcasm and stubborn pride. A half-empty bag of chips rustled in one hand.
Damien Cross, 19, college student, chaotic personality embodied. Hot-tempered, sharp-tongued, unpredictably brilliant. Charismatic when he wanted to be, solitary when he didn't. A soft spot for a few precious people, and an explosive temper for anyone dumb enough to test his limits.
"God, these chips slap," Damien muttered around a mouthful, licking his fingers like he was taste-testing the secrets of the universe. "The spicy kick hits just right. It's like my taste buds are being drop-kicked by a fire elemental."
He paused at the corner, leaning against a light pole and watching cars crawl by.
"Y'know, if more people just took a second to appreciate snacks like this, the world would be a calmer place. Maybe I should start a food blog... Nah, too much work."
Crunch. Another chip vanished. He kept walking.
"Man, I've been eating these since forever. Back when I was a kid and thought homework was the biggest threat to mankind. Simple times."
The bag gave a mournful rustle. Damien looked down.
"You've served well, soldier," he said, dropping it into a trash bin. "But now I gotta re-up."
Without hesitation, he crossed the street and pushed open the door to a cozy corner store. The bell above jingled its usual greeting.
"Yo, Mr. B! You still hoarding those spicy inferno cheese puffs of destiny, or did someone beat me to 'em?"
The shopkeeper, a rotund man with a salt-and-pepper beard and tired eyes, looked up from behind the counter and chuckled.
"If it isn't Damien Cross, my number one snack thief."
"You say thief, I say loyal customer who has kept this place afloat since he was ten."
Mr. B grinned, folding his arms. "You mean since you were seven. You used to come in here with your mom and try to convince me to let you buy gum with lint and a rock."
"Hey, that rock was shiny. I was basically offering you treasure."
Damien walked over to the snack aisle and picked up three bags like it was muscle memory.
"Same old stock?"
"Still got your favorites. You practically own that shelf by now. Though, fair warning, supply's getting tight. These snacks are catching on."
Damien raised a brow. "Say it ain't so. What am I gonna do if I can't buy my happiness in crunchy form anymore?"
"Grow up, maybe?"
"Blasphemy."
They shared a laugh as Damien placed the bags on the counter.
"You really have been coming here forever," Mr. B said, ringing up the snacks. "I've seen you grow from a punk kid who wouldn't stop touching everything to a punk college student who still won't stop touching everything."
"It's called tradition, old man."
"Hah! You're lucky you're charming. And that you always pay."
"With real money now, too. Not rocks."
Damien paid, gave the man a wave, and walked back into the cool evening. He tore open a new bag, the spicy scent wafting up like incense for the soul.
"Ahh. There it is. Redemption."
The street was quieter now. He passed a park where a group of kids shouted and chased after a ball.
"I got it! No, you always hog the ball! Pass it!"
Damien smirked. "Reminds me of me and Kai. He always cheated though. Swore it was 'strategy.'"
City lights blinked to life one by one as he turned the corner toward home. He tucked the chips under his arm, hands in pockets.
"Life's weird," he thought. "You grind through the day, get hyped for junk food, and hope no one jacks your spot on the couch. Rinse and repeat."
The sky suddenly darkened.
He stopped.
The air grew heavy.
"...What the hell?"
A glowing magic circle appeared beneath his feet.
"Okay... what the actual fu—"
The light surged. Damien floated a few feet into the air, flailing slightly as his chips tumbled to the ground.
"MY SNACKS!"
And then he vanished.
The same magic circle pulsed in a new place—not on Earth. It shimmered in a stone chamber bathed in ethereal light. Two figures materialized within it.
Damien landed hard on one knee, groaning. "Son of a—"
Beside him, another young man caught himself in a graceful stance before standing upright. He was the kind of handsome that looked suspicious, like he belonged on a propaganda poster. Golden blond hair, piercing sky-blue eyes, and a face too symmetrical to be trusted.
They locked eyes.
"Who are you?" they both said in unison.
A brief pause.
Damien raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's not creepy."
The other guy narrowed his eyes. "I am Aiden Vale."
Damien folded his arms. "Damien Cross. So, Mr. Vale, any clue what the hell just happened, or did we both just lose a bet with the universe?"
"I was... pulled from my home. There was light. Magic. And now you."
"Yeah. Same. Except I lost my snacks, so I'm already on edge."
Before Aiden could respond, a voice boomed behind them. "Welcome, summoned hero."
They spun around.
They were in a throne room straight out of some medieval fever dream. Marble floors with glowing silver etchings. Floating crystal chandeliers. Red and gold banners draped like regal wings. An audience watched them: nobles, royal mages, armored knights kneeling with spears.
And on the throne sat a man in his fifties, tall and broad-shouldered, with graying blond hair pulled back and steel gray eyes that pierced like swords.
"Who the hell is the old guy?" Damien thought.
Aiden stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The man rose. "I am King Althas Regarion IV, Ruler of the Kingdom of Solmaria."
Damien muttered, "Great. Summoned by a king. This is anime BS level five."
The king nodded solemnly. "We are honored by your presence in our time of need, Sword Hero..."
He stopped mid-sentence, blinking as his eyes flicked from Aiden to Damien.
Back to Aiden.
Back to Damien.
"Wait... why are there two of you?"
Damien and Aiden stood motionless on the glowing, rune-etched platform. The king's words echoed in the air between them: "Wait... why are there two of you?"
They exchanged a confused glance.
"What... does he mean by that?" Damien murmured.
"Wasn't this supposed to be a solo act?" Aiden added.
Suddenly, murmurs erupted around the throne room. Nobles and royal mages began to stir, eyes wide with unease. Some gasped. Others whispered urgently, throwing glances between Damien and Aiden.
"There was only meant to be one hero, wasn't there?"
"Is this some kind of error?"
"A second person... is the summoning circle broken?"
Damien blinked. "Okay, now they're freaking out. Do they think I just photobombed a sacred ritual or something?"
"Your Majesty," one of the nobles whispered loudly. "What does this mean? This has never happened before!"
The king turned to the two men standing beside his throne. "Archmage Velwin, High Priest Arvel... what is the meaning of this?"
The High Priest stepped forward first, his rigid posture almost defying his frail form. With pure white hair braided into a ceremonial knot and pale gold eyes glowing faintly, he looked every bit the divine figurehead.
"Your Majesty," Arvel said, voice calm but brimming with underlying pride. "The Church of the Radiant Sword oversaw the ritual. This... deviation must be a glitch. Some imperfection in the weave of divine energies."
He glanced coldly at Damien. "The summoning was intended for the prophesied hero—a single chosen warrior. This second arrival... may be a mistake. An unstable variable."
Damien's brows shot up. "A mistake? Excuse me?"
Before he could respond further, the second figure stepped forward. Archmage Velwin's wild silver hair streaked with blue practically glowed under the chandelier light. His teal eyes sparkled with unfiltered curiosity.
"Fascinating," Velwin murmured, turning in a slow circle to study the summoning platform. "Two summoned at once... utterly unexpected! Perhaps the ritual matrix resonated with a unique magical frequency... no, wait... maybe a temporal overlap in dimensional coordinates?"
He rubbed his hands together, eyes dancing. "I've never seen anything like it! One of you may be a walking flame singularity!"
"A what now?" Damien said, folding his arms, confused and increasingly irritated.
More nobles and mages whispered, theories spreading like wildfire.
"Could this be divine intervention?"
"An error of cosmic proportions..."
"Which one is the real hero?"
Damien glanced around. "They're talking about me like I'm not even here. Like I'm some kind of magical tumor."
Aiden crossed his arms and scowled. "Why is everyone looking at him? I'm the one they meant to summon, right? This guy just... tripped in."
Damien shot him a cold look. "Yeah? And I landed in your spotlight."
The king narrowed his eyes, visibly disturbed. He looked back and forth between the two boys.
"Could the circle have glitched?" he wondered aloud. "Is it possible... an error brought an extra soul into our world?"
One of the royal mages nodded nervously. "But how can the Summoning Circle malfunction? It's been used for generations!"
"Accidental summoning," Velwin repeated in awe. "Theoretically possible... but never documented."
"Perhaps," Arvel interjected coldly, "the gods may have some greater purpose. Or perhaps... this anomaly must be corrected."
Arguments broke out. Nobles shouted over each other. Mages hissed incantations under their breath, debating whether the magic had truly gone awry.
Aiden and Damien stood in the middle of it all, absorbing the chaos.
"What the hell happened to your summoning circle?" Aiden muttered.
Damien, fists clenched, could feel the heat bubbling under his skin. "They're talking about me like I'm some kind of glitch in a video game..."
His temper boiled over.
"DON'T IGNORE ME!!" he screamed.
The room fell silent.
Knights gripped their weapons tighter.
"What do you mean I'm an accidental summoning?!" Damien shouted, his golden-red eyes blazing.
Velwin looked up, blinking slowly. "The summoning circle was designed to pull one person. One. You should not have appeared."
"So what does that mean?" Damien growled. "If I wasn't supposed to be here... can I go back?!"
The king's expression shifted. For the first time, he looked genuinely saddened. "I'm sorry. The ritual is irreversible. Once summoned, the tether to your world is severed. You... cannot return."
The weight of the words hit Damien like a warhammer to the chest.
"What do you mean I can't go back home!!!!!!"
His voice thundered through the throne room, echoing off marble walls.
Knights stepped forward, swords raised into defensive stances.
Damien glanced around, furious. Every face was tight with tension.
Aiden smirked. "Figures. Look at him. Blowing up like a child denied dessert."
The king began to speak, but a calm, commanding voice interrupted him.
"Enough. Everybody calm down."
All eyes turned.
Two women sat beside the king, previously silent. The one who had spoken rose gracefully.
She appeared to be in her early forties, dressed in an elegant violet-and-silver gown. Her long, silver-blonde hair was braided and bejeweled. Violet eyes gleamed like cut amethyst.
"I am Queen Liora Regarion," she said, voice both firm and composed. "It is an honor to meet you, summoned heroes."
Damien, still trembling with rage, could barely acknowledge her. His thoughts raced.
"I'm stuck here... forever. Everything I knew, gone. My family, my world... all of it."
Before he could respond, a new voice cut through the tension.
"Such a vulgar tone in front of royalty. Are all peasants in your world so dramatic?"
Gasps followed. Everyone turned to the young woman seated beside the queen.
She was around nineteen, with emerald green eyes and waist-length golden-blonde hair tied into a sharp ponytail. She wore light ceremonial armor and a flowing blue cape.
Damien turned to her, furious. "...The hell did you just say?"
She blinked slowly, unimpressed. "I simply asked a question. You arrived here by mistake, screamed at my father and mother like a beast, and you're dressed like a tavern thief. Can you even fight? Or do you only throw tantrums?"
The air grew colder. The nobles gaped. The king and queen exchanged whispered looks.
Aiden raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who is this firecracker?"
Damien's teeth ground together. "Who even are you?"
"I am Princess Elenora Regarion, First of Her Name, Holy Knight of the Light. Daughter of King Althas and Queen Liora. And you, stranger, are in my home."
Rage simmered inside Damien. "Oh great, a royal brat. This just keeps getting better."
He opened his mouth to snap back, but the queen raised her voice.
"Enough! Both of you!"
Damien turned to her, breathing heavily.
"What am I supposed to do now?!"
The queen softened slightly. "I understand you are scared. But you must calm down."
"How can I? I can't go home! I'm stuck here forever!"
"I understand," she said. "But we, as the royal family, will help you. You are not alone."
Damien said nothing for a long moment. His hands slowly unclenched. He nodded, eyes still burning.
The king and queen exchanged a glance, both nodding in agreement.
Damien looked around the throne room, the strange faces, the alien world.
"Stuck here... in another world. Nothing to call my own. No way back."
Damien stood still, arms crossed, golden-red eyes shadowed with anger. His world had been flipped upside down, his life stolen and replaced with the glittering coldness of a palace far from everything he knew.
"I can't go back... I can't leave," he thought bitterly. "No matter how I flip it, I'm stuck here. So what the hell do I do now? Just... exist? Start over? In a world I don't know, with rules I didn't ask for?"
Aiden, who had been quiet, suddenly turned to the king.
"Why did you summon us here in the first place?"
King Althas's expression turned grave. "You were summoned because we need your help... to defeat the awakening Demon King."
Both Damien and Aiden stared at him, stunned.
"What?!" Damien blinked. "Demon King? Seriously? So it really is that kind of world."
"The Demon King?!" Aiden staggered back slightly, hands trembling. "You summoned me to fight the Demon King?! I thought this was some kind of royal escort or lost artifact quest, not end-of-the-world level crap!"
He began to panic.
"This isn't anime! This is real life! People die! How the hell am I supposed to beat a Demon King?! I don't even have powers!"
Damien, still tense, thought as he watched Aiden spiral, "Guy's unraveling faster than a cheap hoodie. But I can't blame him. Demon King? That's not exactly 'welcome to our world' level news."
King Althas raised a hand. "Calm yourself, Sword Hero. There is a prophecy. One that has been passed down through generations."
He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, and began to speak with the gravitas of someone reciting holy scripture.
"In the Age of Flame, when darkness devoured the land and chaos walked among mortals, the Demon King rose from the Abyss. His power was unlike any force ever known — a being born of hatred, war, and corrupted Etheris. Kingdoms fell. The skies bled. The earth cracked.
But just as all hope waned, a hero arrived — not from our world, but summoned through sacred magic by the gods' decree. The Sword Hero. With a blade forged of light and soul, they cleaved the shadows and sealed the Demon King away, sacrificing their return to protect a world they came to love.
Since then, the prophecy has endured:
'When the Black Sun stirs and the Boundless Night returns,
From beyond the stars shall a blade-wielder come,
A soul not of this world,
To stand where all falter,
To banish the End and bring Dawn anew.'
This prophecy led us to you. To both of you. But especially you, Aiden Vale."
Aiden slowly stood upright, still shaken but visibly humbled by the weight of the story.
"So I'm... really the Sword Hero? Me? Like in the old stories?"
Damien frowned. "So they dragged me here... for this guy to save the world? Great. I get a front row seat to the prophecy channel."
Aiden looked at the king. "But how can I stop the Demon King if I don't have any powers? Any skills? I'm just... me."
Damien watched, silent but alert. "Good question. What kind of power is this guy supposed to get? He better be packing something god-tier to match all this hype."
King Althas turned to the mage at his right. "Let our Grand Sage explain."
The king nodded to a tall man in the front row. The archmage stepped forward, giving a half-bow.
"Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Archmage Valen Dreimos, Royal Court Magician and Ritual Architect. It is an honor to meet you, Sword Hero."
Aiden blinked. "Okay, not gonna lie. This is kind of awesome. I always wanted to meet a real wizard."
Damien's brows knit together. "Alright, let's see what Mr. Fireworks has to say about this magic system."
Valen nodded to the king. "I trust His Majesty with my life and the future of this kingdom. And I thank the royal family for allowing me to serve so long."
The king smiled. "You are our greatest magical mind, Valen. Your work has shaped our very defenses."
Valen turned toward the two summoned heroes. "Now, allow me to explain the world's magic system. Here, magic is rooted in resonance with the elemental and spiritual forces of Etheris. Each person's essence resonates differently, giving birth to unique affinities, skills, and powers."
Aiden nodded quickly. "That makes sense. Sort of like RPG class mechanics. So the stronger your essence, the better your magic?"
Damien watched quietly. "So it's not just about learning spells... it's about who you are."
Valen raised his hand. With a snap of his fingers, a glowing magic circle appeared on the floor. Light streamed upward and materialized into a podium topped with a shining crystal orb.
"This is the Orb of Truth," Valen announced. "It will reveal your stats, skills, and potential."
Aiden's eyes lit up. "So it's like a stat scanner? Dang, this is getting good."
Damien tilted his head. "Okay, now I'm a little curious. Not that I want to be here, but... this is interesting."
Valen gestured. "One at a time. Please, step forward and place your hand on the orb."
Aiden grinned confidently. "Alright, let's see how epic I really am."
Valen nodded. "Are you ready?"
Aiden stepped forward until he stood right before the crystal orb. With a dramatic pause, he placed his gloved hand atop it.
Suddenly—
BOOM.
The orb burst with a blinding golden light. The chamber darkened around it, as if the sun itself had focused into that single point. The crystal pulsed rapidly, then flared like a miniature star.
Wind roared outward in concentric rings. Curtains whipped. Tapestries danced.
Sparks of radiant light hovered in the air, each humming like a divine tuning fork. Ethereal shapes — wings, swords, halos — spiraled upward in gold and white arcs.
The air grew electric, filled with vibrating energy that lifted hair and prickled skin.
A massive halo of light formed behind Aiden. Within it, the silhouette of a celestial knight appeared, wings unfurled, sword raised to the heavens. Choir-like humming filled the chamber — harmonic and overwhelming.
Several nobles gasped and shielded their eyes.
"Is that... divine manifestation?!"
"The chosen vessel...!"
Even Archmage Valen blinked in awe. "By the Nine Rings... this is far beyond expectations."
High Priest Arvel muttered prayers under his breath, face pale with a mixture of reverence and fear.
The king leaned forward, mouth agape. "He truly is the prophesied Sword Hero."
Queen Liora placed a gloved hand on her chest, eyes wide.
Princess Elenora's sharp eyes narrowed in curiosity and awe.
Damien shielded his face from the light, gritting his teeth. "Okay, I'll give him this... that's impressive. Too impressive."
A shimmering screen of glowing runes and text formed in midair above the orb.
Aiden stared upward, eyes wide as he began to read.
"AWESOME!" Aiden yelled, beaming as the light began to fade.
All eyes turned toward the screen hovering above the Orb of Truth, where glowing runes assembled into clear text. Ezra, one of the senior royal mages, gasped as the readings finalized and displayed Aiden's information.
Name: Aiden Vale
Age: 20
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Sword Hero of Light
Class Rank: S
Titles: The Chosen Hero of Prophecy, Radiant Champion of Solmaria, Lightbearer from Another World, Face of the Kingdom, Glory-Seeker (hidden)
Blessings: Divine Blessing of the Radiant Sword, Favor of the Light God Solarius
Health Points: 2,400 / 2,400
Magic Points: 1,100 / 1,100
Strength: 200
Agility: 180
Endurance: 150
Mana: 950
Luck: 999
Charm: 180
Normal Skills:
Basic Swordsmanship
Athletic Conditioning
Leadership Aura
Light Magic Resistance
Battle Presence
Ability Skills:
Light Affinity Enhancement
Perfect Guard
Sword Channeling
Battlefield Awareness
Mana Edge Efficiency
Magic Sword Skills:
Radiant Slash — Light-imbued horizontal sword wave
Blinding Blade — Temporarily stuns foes with flash burst
Flash Step Cut — Short-distance light-speed slash
Heavenstrike Blade — Holy finisher against dark-aligned foes (Locked at Lv10)
Sword of Judgement — Boosts damage based on enemy morality (Divine scaling)
Unique Skills:
Lightborne Aura — Passively boosts ally morale and defense within 15m
Hero's Charisma — Amplifies charm, negotiation, and public appeal
Unbreakable Will — Immune to fear, charm, mind-affecting magic
Radiant Image (Hidden) — Automatically cleans body/armor; subtly enhances appearance
Sword God's Glimmer (Inactive) — ???
Weapons: Radiant Vow — Sacred Sword of Light (starter holy weapon)
Items: [None listed]
Aide, one of the court recorders, whispered, "By the stars... these stats. He's beyond anything we've ever seen."
"Divine class magic, charisma buffs, and unique skills out the gate?" another mage muttered in awe. "He's built to lead armies and win hearts."
Aiden turned, his eyes locking onto Damien. "Hey... don't worry if you don't have powers or anything. Not everyone's meant to be the hero, you know?"
Outwardly, he smiled with sympathy. Inwardly, he was laughing.
"This guy probably got pulled here by accident and will end up cleaning stables or something. Well, more glory for me."
Damien felt it. The smugness behind the words. The invisible condescension buried beneath the false kindness.
His jaw tightened.
"This bastard. I can feel the smug radiating off him like a second aura. God, he's so annoying. Don't think I don't see through that perfect smile, golden boy."
Queen Liora noticed the tension. Her voice cut through the silence.
"Damien…"
He looked up. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
She tilted her head. "Why don't you try the orb? Let's see if you possess any latent power."
The room stirred. Whispers rippled through the throne hall.
"He was summoned too..."
"Could he have a class... or was it really a glitch?"
She glanced at her husband. King Althas nodded solemnly.
"Go ahead, Damien. We would know the truth."
Damien stared at the orb, uncertainty clawing at his chest. His stomach twisted as he stepped forward.
"Okay. I didn't ask for this. Didn't want this. But if I'm here... I need to know. Even if nothing happens."
He walked toward the crystal orb. The light from it had dimmed since Aiden's test, but it still pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat waiting.
"What if it doesn't glow? What if they all just look at me like... nothing? Just a fluke? Just a mistake?"
He stood before the orb. Closed his eyes. Took a slow, deep breath.
"Let's do this."
Damien placed his hand on the orb.
Nothing happened.
For a few seconds, there was only silence.
No glow. No wind. No hum of energy. The orb sat still, inert.
Whispers broke out among the crowd.
Royal mages exchanged looks of confusion.
"Nothing... the orb isn't reacting."
"Is he really... powerless?"
Nobles whispered, some in pity, some with hidden amusement.
Aiden folded his arms and grinned.
"Well, well. Maybe he really was just a magical misfire. Poor guy."
Archmage Valen rubbed his chin, gaze lowering. "Not everyone who enters this world gains power. Sometimes... fate is selective."
King Althas furrowed his brows. "Strange..."
Queen Liora frowned, glancing at her husband. "Why is it not responding? Could he be truly..."
Up on the dais, Princess Elenora watched with narrowed emerald eyes, her posture poised, but her thoughts cold.
"I knew it. Loud, brash, no discipline. And now, no power either. What a waste of royal attention."
Damien clenched his jaw.
"Nothing. It's not glowing. I feel... nothing. Just like they said. A mistake. An error."
His hand began to lift from the orb, slow and bitter.
Then—
BOOM!
The orb exploded in a column of violent crimson flame.
A blinding flash of molten gold burst outward, then turned white-hot. The floor cracked beneath Damien's feet. Heat surged through the throne room like a solar flare.
Screams erupted.
The nobles staggered back, shielding their faces.
"The heat—it's burning through my cloak!"
"Back! BACK! It's spreading!"
Royal mages gritted their teeth, some conjuring wards to protect nearby spectators.
"That aura—it's erupting! Not controlled! Raw!"
"That's no elemental flame—it's soulfire!"
Even seasoned knights sweated under their armor, eyes wide.
The air shimmered like the space above an open furnace. The flags along the stone pillars caught and burned in slow motion, unraveling into ashes before ward spells doused them.
Aiden recoiled, arm shielding his face. "This is beyond anything I've ever seen. It's not magic—it's like the planet's core just cracked open."
Archmage Valen fell onto his rear, eyes wild. "Impossible... this energy. It's volatile—alive. The aura alone is tearing the veil of the room."
King Althas stood tall, stunned. "This... this power... it's not just a class, it's... a force."
Queen Liora's voice trembled. "No human should possess such fury. And yet... it obeys him."
Elenora rose from her throne, stunned for the first time in the entire audience.
"He... he didn't even flinch. All this fire... is part of him. That can't be coincidence. That can't be luck."
Then—
A calm, eerie voice cut through the chaos.
"And the story begins to burn."
Everyone turned. A woman hovered above the stone floor, her hair black as a starless night, flowing as though underwater. One eye gold, the other silver. Her robes shimmered with constellations.
Queen Liora gasped. "Prophetess Mirra?! Why are you here?"
Mirra's voice was ethereal. "I felt it. The ignition of a soul that will change the world — either begin it anew... or end it in fire."
The entire court went silent.
Queen Liora's thoughts raced. "Could what she says be true? Is Damien the beginning of something far beyond prophecy?"
Flames spiraled into a vortex around Damien, lifting him slightly from the floor.
His eyes flared a brilliant amber. His black clothes shimmered like molten coal. The heat was oppressive yet magnificent.
The marble beneath his feet turned black, veined with red light. Sparks exploded from the edges of his aura. His very presence pushed the crowd back.
CRACK!
The orb shattered, sending flaming glyphs into the air. Words burned above him, suspended like stars in fire-script.
Then—
A scream tore through the room.
Not human.
From behind Damien, wings of pure fire erupted — vast, divine, and ancient. A phoenix emerged, its form forged of living flame, silent yet terrifying. It spread its wings across the entire chamber.
Its eyes blazed, locking with the crowd.
Not just his spirit beast.
The embodiment of his soul.
"A phoenix?!"
"A soul-bound familiar of myth!"
"That can't be... That's not a summon — that's HIM!"
Aiden stood frozen. "What... what even IS this guy? This isn't hero stuff. This is something else entirely... something monstrous."
Elenora gripped her gauntlets tightly. "He was mocked... pitied. And now this? This fire... it's not wild. It's alive. It listens to him."
Archmage Valen's voice trembled. "A soul so powerful it manifested in flame... this shouldn't be possible. It defies everything I know."
The king and queen could only watch, awed.
"What is he? Not a mistake. Not a glitch. Maybe... the savior we weren't expecting," the king thought.
Damien floated gently to the ground. Flames still clung to his arms and shoulders, rolling across him like loyal pets. He raised a hand.
A small flame emerged in his palm, hovering, flickering playfully.
"Let's try something..."
He willed the flame to split — it did, breaking into five orbs that danced around him. He twirled a finger, and they spiraled in intricate patterns.
He flicked his wrist, and the flames morphed into tiny phoenixes — miniature, winged replicas that flapped their fiery wings and chirped like birdsong.
One landed gently on his shoulder. Another perched on his finger.
He blew softly — they exploded into harmless sparkles.
He chuckled. "Alright... that was cool."
Gasps followed from the crowd.
"He's controlling the flame like a conductor."
"He's not just powerful. He's playful with it. Familiar. This isn't new to him—it's instinct."
The fire slowly faded, the heat dispersing like a vanishing storm.
The phoenix dissolved into embers, swirling away like stardust.
Damien stood still. Smirking.
King Althas stared long and hard at the boy. "Perhaps... he's the one. The one the prophecy never mentioned. The shadow to the light."
Damien was about to speak when—
DING.
A sound echoed in his head. A fiery screen appeared in front of his eyes.
He blinked.
"What the hell is this now...?"
He began to read.
A fiery screen hovered in front of Damien, flickering like a living flame. Lines of glowing text arranged themselves in perfect formation, bathing his face in a warm red-gold glow.
Name: Damien Cross
Age: 19
Race:(Anomaly – Flameborn Soul)
Level: 1
Class: Fire Mage (Chaos Flameborn Variant)
Titles:
Accidental Hero
World's Fourth Mistake
The Fire That Shouldn't Exist
Walking Catastrophe (Unranked)
Affinity: Fire
Health Points: 5,000 / 5,000
Magic Points: ∞ (Unstable)
Strength: 100
Agility: 120
Endurance: 200
Mana: 9999+
Luck: ???
Charm: 140
Normal Skills:
Fire Resistance: MAX – Immune to all natural fire
Enhanced Reflexes – Sharpened neurological responses allow for instinctual dodges and reaction speeds far exceeding average human limits; grants near-precognitive awareness in combat.
Appraisal (Corrupted) – Can view object, creature, or person details, but information is frequently redacted, distorted, or glitching due to Damien's unstable soul type; occasionally reveals forbidden or hidden truths.
Environmental Immunity: Heat – Walks through lava like it's warm sand
Danger Sense – Passive instinctive reaction to life-threatening threats
Ability Skills:
Flame Fist – Enchants user's fists with condensed, explosive flame
Flame Step EX – Short-range teleport that explodes at start and end
Ignition Drive – Temporarily boosts power based on emotional state
Heat Sense – Detects living beings by thermal aura
Ember Pulse – Releases a shockwave of burning energy
Magic Fire Skills:
Fireball EX – Enhanced; explosion radius 20x normal
Flare Lance – High-velocity flame javelin
Fire Wall – Defensive flame barrier
Living Flame – Summons a sentient wisp of fire that follows commands
Flame Cloak Omega – Burning armor aura, repels melee
Explosion – Full-field catastrophic detonation
Unique Skills:
Fire Devourer – Absorbs fire attacks to grow stronger
Soul-Flame Resonance – Power scales with passion, rage, or loyalty
Ashborn Rebirth – Revives once per day in a firestorm
Phoenix Awakening – Passive; summons divine fire avatar when enraged
Worldbreaker – Ignores level limits when casting fire-based magic
System Override – Immune to all spell sealing, status effects, and divine fate tracking
Everburning Core – Infinite mana source embedded in his soul
Weapons:
Spellfire Gauntlets – Conducts raw magic through Damien's fists
Items: [None listed]
Damien stared, blinking slowly.
He flexed his hand. Small wisps of amber flame flickered along his knuckles.
"Titles like Walking Catastrophe? Infinite mana? Explosion radius twenty times normal? And... Worldbreaker?"
A grin stretched across his face.
"Well, damn... I guess it's my turn."
He looked up toward the audience still catching their breath from his explosive display.
"Time to turn up the heat in this world... and show them who I am."
To Be Continued...