Chapter 41: (Side B) Hero! Summoned! (1)
Arkanis had finally managed to calm down sowhat, though his chest was still tight with panic. His legs were trembling with every step as he followed Princess Zoerina out of the summoning chamber, escorted by armored royal guards whose very presence made him feel smaller than he already was.
The princess led him through halls lined with magnificent arches and columns, banners displaying a gold dragon on a red background swaying slightly from the subtle currents in the air. Everything seed ticulously maintained, not even a speck of dust daring to ’exist’ in this place.
The runners beneath his shoes looked as though they had just been laid down, untouched by the heavy boots of knights who walked them daily. Marble sculptures and decorations glead as if polished by unseen hands.
Above, glowing orbs of light floated at regular intervals, casting a warm illumination over the corridor. The magical glow alone was enough to remind Alex—this wasn’t a dream. This was another world.
He caught sight of maids along the way, each of them imdiately moving to the side and bowing deeply with lowered heads as Zoerina passed. Their uniforms seed oddly familiar, sothing that looked more like a fantasy "ani maid" costu than the attire of servants in a dieval castle. The sight was enough to make his head spin with questions.
Eventually, they reached a throne room so magnificent it nearly stole the breath from his lungs. Massive stone pillars climbed into the heights above, carved with reliefs of dragons that seed to twist and shift as colored orbs floated around, casting shifting shadows that gave the carvings life.
The floor was polished so perfectly he could see his own anxious reflection in the glossy tiles. Two lines of crimson-and-gold knights stood motionless on either side of the hall, so still they could have been statues.
At the far end, a wide double staircase curved upward, leading to a colossal throne ten ters high, forged of reddish tal he didn’t recognize. Towering windows twenty ters tall stood behind it, pouring natural light into the chamber as though the very throne itself radiated authority. Several smaller thrones rested at the sides, clearly ant for the queen or royal consorts.
But Arkanis barely noticed them. His eyes were locked on the man seated on the throne.
The king looked to be in his fifties, streaks of gray in his hair and beard, but his sheer presence radiated terrifying strength. He was thick with corded muscle, the kind of body that made Arkanis think he could crush stone barehanded. A massive battle axe rested at his side, the blade as large as Arkanis himself.
Beside him stood nobles and robed mages whose attire scread authority and danger in equal asure.
"All in the presence of His Majesty, Wallanther XII, kneel!" an attendant announced with booming authority.
Every knight dropped to one knee in salute. Princess Zoerina bowed her head with graceful reverence.
anwhile Arkanis froze. His instinct scread at him to kneel, but his body resisted, too overwheld, too terrified or maybe it’s the Arica doctrine of freedom and not bowing to anyone that was at work. He just stood there, trembling and wide-eyed.
The king descended the stairs, ignoring the murmurs of scandalized nobles. A few even raised their voices in protest, but he silenced them with nothing more than a casual wave of his hand.
"These are not enemies to demand respect from," the king said firmly. "This one was summoned here against his will. The least we can offer is understanding."
Arkanis swallowed hard hearing those words. The man’s voice was deep, gentle, and steady. Despite his terrifying appearance, there was warmth in his words, like a strict but kind uncle.
"Young hero," Wallanther continued, "you must be frightened. For that, I apologize. There are many injustices that have already been forced upon you, and for them, I can only offer my words."
Alex’s lips parted, but nothing ca out. His mind was a whirl of questions, none of which he could string together into a coherent sentence.
The king gestured, and an elderly man in elaborate robes shuffled down the steps. Despite his age, his movents were brisk and steady. He bowed deeply to the king before turning to Alex.
"Allow to explain, hero," the man said. "I am Carrion, Royal Mage of the Maple Dragon Kingdom. First, you must understand where you now stand. This place is not your original world."
Arkanis clenched his fists the mont he heard it as if everything has been confird. He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer, but he couldn’t stop listening.
"This is the Infinite World," Carrion explained, his voice echoing in the chamber. "It is a realm that rges countless worlds together, a puzzle of fragnts drawn without warning. When a world is absorbed, it is granted five years of protection. During that ti, kingdoms rise, dungeons appear, and people prepare for what cos after.
When protection ends, the true struggle begins—worlds and races battling for dominance, forging alliances, or tearing each other apart."
The mage’s voice grew graver. "Our Maple Dragon Kingdom endured this trial generations ago. We fought, we bled, and we survived. We built treaties, clashed with rivals, and secured our place. But not all threats have been quelled."
He straightened his back as he said those words, eyes sharpening.
"One kingdom in particular has long been our bane—the Neth’rite Demon Kingdom. Their ruler, Demon King Asmond Ath’rallas, despises humanity. He has already seized our borderlands, enslaving our people. Though we are equals in na, their combat strength far surpasses ours. In a direct war... humanity will not survive."
Carrion’s words seed to echo directly into Alex’s chest. He felt like a mouse trapped in the gaze of hungry lions.
And all he could think was: Why the fuck is it ?
Arkanis clenched his fists, forcing himself to speak. His voice cracked, but he managed, "I... I think I understand your predicant. But that doesn’t explain why you dragged here. I’m nobody. I’m not a soldier, not a warrior. I’m just a student—how am I supposed to fu... pardon my language but, how am I supposed to fight an entire kingdom?"
Wallanther XII smiled faintly, shaking his head. Instead of answering directly, he gestured toward Arkanis. "Mage Carrion spoke of how this world thrives on conflict. It is not without its tools. There is a system—one that governs all life here. Every person carries with them a status window, an embodint of the Infinite World’s rules. You may call it forth by willing the word ’status’ in your mind. Dismiss it by thought, and it will vanish."
Arkanis hesitated. The idea sounded like sothing out of an RPG, which only made his stomach twist tighter. But with the king’s unflinching gaze on him, he swallowed and whispered it in his head.
Status.
In an instant, sothing appeared before him—an iridescent window, floating and glowing, filled with information written in a language he shouldn’t have been able to read but sohow could. He stumbled back a step, eyes wide. His hands instinctively waved through the air to try and touch it, only to swat at nothing.
His heart raced. This wasn’t a hallucination. This was real.
Wallanther chuckled warmly at his clumsy reaction but didn’t press. Instead, Mage Carrion stepped forward again, his aged voice pulling Alex’s attention away from the surreal window only he could see.
"Hero, every living being in this world possesses such a window. It displays your level, your attributes, your class, your skills. By fighting monsters and foes of other races, you may raise these values. The more battles you win, the stronger you will beco."
Carrion’s tone grew sharper, carrying the weight of countless battles. "But there are rules. This world discourages turning your blade upon your own kind. A human gains nothing from killing another human—no experience, no growth. But slay a demon, an elf, a beastman, and you will reap the rewards."
He lifted a finger, emphasizing his point.
"Elves, for instance, live long lives and thus require vast experience to grow stronger, their numbers kept low by nature’s design. Beastn bear physical advantages through bloodlines, and their progress is moderate, still faster than demons but slower than humans. Demons are powerful, but their growth is sluggish."
"Humans, however... humans are different. Though lacking bloodline traits—save for the royal family—they have unmatched fertility and require the least experience to level up. You, hero, can grow far faster than most."
Arkanis stared at the window again and back at Carrion and then at the window again. He couldn’t still believe it, how can he? Who would easily believe they sohow were summoned into a fantasy world? Aren’t that Korean Webnovel things? How the hell did it happen to him and is this a dream or reality?
Carrion lowered his voice, letting it echo. "There are, however, two walls every hero will face on this path: Class Step... and Max Level."
"What are they?" Arkanis couldn’t help but ask subconsciously even though he already felt like the information about to be given to him and ones he got from gaming might be the sa.
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