The Overlooked Hero Breaks the System

A heavy silence lingered in the grand throne room.

The revelation that elves and dwarves had also summoned their own heroes had shattered the students' assumptions. Up until now, they had believed they were the only ones chosen, brought to this world as humanity's last hope.

But they weren't.

Elena Vaughn's sharp gaze flickered toward Queen Aevalis Sylvaris, the regal elven ruler who stood beside King Regnar. "Your Majesty, does this mean your people also performed a summoning ritual like the one that brought us here?"

The elven queen's emerald eyes met hers, unreadable yet filled with ancient wisdom. "Yes," she answered. "Our champions walk a different path, but their purpose is the same. The flames of war do not burn for humans alone."

Elena's lips parted slightly at the answer, but she quickly schooled her expression.

The Demon King's war wasn't just threatening humanity—it was consuming everything.

Across the hall, King Thrandrik Stonefury, the dwarven ruler, let out a deep sigh. His thick auburn beard trembled as he crossed his burly arms. "Aye, lass. We called upon our own warriors, just as ye were taken from yer world. The Beastkin Clans did the same." His voice was like grinding stone. "If we fight alone, we fall. If we stand together, we might just have a chance."

Murmurs spread among the students. Some looked overwhelmed, others intrigued.

Alan Vale scoffed, crossing his arms. "So where are these other heroes?"

"They are where they are needed," Queen Aevalis answered smoothly. "The elven warriors train within the Mystwood Citadel, mastering the arcane arts of the forest. The dwarven champions are forged into warriors deep within the Molten Bastion, where steel and willpower reign supreme."

Rei remained silent, absorbing every word.

This wasn't one unified force.

Each race was preparing its own group of champions.

And that meant… humanity wasn't the only faction competing for power.

King Regnar's voice cut through the murmurs. "There is one more truth you must understand."

The tension in the room thickened.

"You are not the only ones your world has lost."

The students stilled. Some exchanged glances, while others stiffened, as if bracing for what was to come.

King Regnar's deep voice echoed across the hall.

"The Kingdom of Valtheria and the Kingdom of Drakenvold have also summoned heroes of their own."

Silence.

It was as if the room itself had frozen.

For the first time, doubt flickered in Leon's normally unshakable expression.

Elena's fingers twitched at her sides, her sharp mind already processing the implications.

Alan let out a low whistle. "So we're not the only ones?"

The meaning was clear.

They had assumed they were the only heroes summoned from Earth.

They had assumed all of Earth's lost souls had come here, to this kingdom.

They were wrong.

General Aldren stepped forward, his expression grim. "Each kingdom performed its own summoning ritual. You are Eryndor's champions, but Valtheria and Drakenvold have their own."

Some students paled. Others clenched their fists.

They weren't just competing against the Demon King.

They were now rivals to other summoned heroes.

Leon finally spoke, his voice steady but edged with concern. "Then where are they?"

"The Valtherian heroes train within the Grand Magisterium, under the kingdom's most powerful sorcerers," Regnar explained. "Drakenvold's warriors are being forged in the Obsidian Bastion, molded into living fortresses to withstand the coming war."

Elena exhaled slowly, her eyes darkening. "Then… we won't be fighting alongside them?"

"No," the king answered. "Each kingdom has its own methods, its own strategies. You will be trained as Eryndor's heroes. Valtheria and Drakenvold will do the same."

The air grew heavier.

This was no united war effort.

This was a contest for survival.

General Aldren's voice cut through the whispers. "You will not be thrown into war blindly. The kingdoms have prepared extensive training regimens for your development."

Some students looked relieved. Others… disappointed.

Alan Vale scoffed. "How much time do we even have? You make it sound like we have years to prepare."

Silence.

Then, Queen Aevalis spoke, her melodic voice carrying a weight heavier than steel.

"Five to eight years."

The students stilled.

"That is the time we have left before the full force of the Demon King's army is upon us."

Some students gasped. Others clenched their fists.

"We do not know the exact moment the barrier will collapse," King Regnar admitted, his voice grim. "But when it does, the full demonic tide will march upon us. If we are not ready by then, all will be lost."

The countdown had begun.

Rei's hands tightened into fists.

Five years at minimum. Eight years at most.

That wasn't much time at all.

The summoned students weren't being trained for some distant war—they were being prepared for a final stand.

Some of them might not survive long enough to even see that battle.

Rei exhaled quietly, his mind racing.

He had planned to take things slowly, observe from the sidelines, and keep his power hidden for as long as possible.

But now…

Would five years even be enough to reach his full potential?

The meeting continued, but the summoned students were no longer the focus.

The rulers and their advisors discussed strategy, resources, and training programs. Knights and mages approached select students, assessing their combat potential. Some students were already being recruited for special training.

Leon, as expected, was approached by Eryndor's royal knights—they wanted the Holy Hero under their banner.

Elena, with her Arcane Valkyrie class, drew the attention of several court mages who saw her as a potential war mage.

Alan Vale was already being evaluated by Eryndor's swordmasters, eager to train an S-Class warrior.

And Rei?

No one approached him.

That was exactly what he wanted.

For now, he was still just a B-Class Enhancement Specialist.

Just another support role.