Somewhere in the modern world called Earth, on a warm, still afternoon, a classroom buzzed quietly with the hum of learning. The teacher stood at the front of the room, writing notes on the digital board. Her voice was sharp but tired, echoing slightly off the cold, white walls.
Most of the students sat at attention, heads down, scribbling or tapping on their tablets. But in the very back corner, alone, unmoved, and uninterested, sat an 18-year-old boy named Ezra Carter.
Half of his hair was jet black, the other half a shining silver, split perfectly down the middle. His gold eyes burned with a detached sharpness that made people avoid looking at him for too long. He was a mystery—and not the kind anyone wanted to solve.
Cold. Dark. Clever. Silent.
Ever since the car accident that claimed the lives of his parents, Ezra had become a ghost among the living. He spoke to no one, trusted no one. He worked harder than anyone else, not for grades, but to stay numb.
Suddenly, without warning, a searing memory surged into his mind:
FLASHBACK
Rain hammered the windshield in relentless sheets. Ezra sat in the back seat, eyes half-closed, headphones in, the distant thump of music trying to drown out the tension in the front.
"Are we almost there?" he muttered, removing one earbud.
"Just another ten minutes," his father said, hands tight on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white.
His mother glanced back, smiling. "Ezra, you okay, sweetheart?"
Ezra shrugged. "Yeah. Just tired."
A sudden blare of a horn.
Screeching tires.
His father's eyes widened in panic. "Hold on!"
A truck burst from the intersection, skidding in the rain.
"NO!" his mother screamed, reaching back toward him—
Metal crunched like thunder. Glass exploded.
Everything flipped. Flashes of light. Screams. Then silence.
Ezra blinked awake, upside down. Blood ran down his temple.
"Mom…? Dad…?"
Smoke. Fire.
His father's hand twitched, eyes half-open. "Ezra... run..."
His mother's body was slumped over the seat, motionless. Blood soaked her blouse.
"No... No, no, no—!" Ezra crawled through the shattered window as flames engulfed the front of the car. He reached back—
Too late.
The explosion threw him across the pavement.
He screamed.
"Ezra Carter!" the teacher snapped, her voice slicing through his daze. "Would you care to join us here in reality?"
Whispers flared like sparks.
"He never talks."
"Always brooding."
"Creepy, if you ask me."
Ezra didn't even blink. He stared at the board for one long, cold moment—then slowly turned his head toward the window, ignoring them all.
The bell rang. Chairs scraped. Backpacks zipped. The teacher left in a rush. Soon the classroom emptied.
Except for Ezra.
Still seated.
I don't belong here, he thought. This world... it's not mine. Not anymore. These people, this life—it's just noise.
He rose quietly, walked out of the room, down the halls, out of the school, and into the city.
Concrete. Cars. Neon lights. Grey clouds.
He kept walking, thoughts coiling like smoke.
Life is a joke. One big cosmic trick. Why was I the one left alive?
Then, as if the universe decided to answer, the sky turned black. The air grew dense and electric.
A bright, intricate magic circle flared beneath Ezra's feet.
"What the—?" Ezra's eyes widened as the symbols spun with impossible speed.
Energy surged upward, surrounding him in pillars of light.
What the hell is this? What's happening?
His feet left the ground. He began to float, weightless.
Then—
Gone.
A moment later, the same circle lit up in a vast, echoing space.
Ezra and another boy appeared in midair—then dropped to their knees on a glowing platform etched with runes. The platform pulsed, then dimmed.
They stood slowly, eyes locking.
The other boy looked Ezra up and down. He was athletic, with gleaming blond hair swept back and piercing emerald green eyes. His school uniform was pristine.
"Where are we?" the boy asked.
Ezra scanned the towering space. "Not home. Not Japan either."
"Leonel Grayson," the boy said. "Call me Leo. And you?"
"Ezra Carter."
They turned—and froze.
They stood in a royal throne room, massive and ornate.
Marble floors etched with silver magic. Floating crystal chandeliers. Red and gold banners like wings from the ceiling.
Behind them—nobles, knights, priests, and robed mages, staring.
Flanking the circle—priests in crimson and white robes, slack-jawed. Holy knights knelt, spears planted, eyes intense.
What is this place? Ezra thought.
Then a deep, calm voice echoed.
"Welcome, summoned hero. I am King Alaric Vandarion III."
A regal man stepped down from his throne. Royal blue cloak trailing, silver crown shining. His steel-blue eyes pierced like blades.
He paused, blinking in surprise.
"…Wait. There are two of you?"
Gasps echoed around the chamber.
Whispers erupted from nobles and royal mages:
"Another one?"
"Was this an accident?"
"Impossible—there was supposed to be only one!"
"The ritual has never misfired before!"
The king turned to the robed mages. "Archmage Thalorin, didn't you say the ritual was supposed to summon one person?"
A frail yet powerful old man stepped forward. Glowing violet eyes, rune-beaded braids, and an aura of cold intellect.
"I did, Your Majesty," he said slowly. "Something has… deviated. Perhaps an accident. Or a reaction to an unknown magical signature."
Leo scowled. "Well, I'm the one you meant to summon, right? This guy just… tripped in."
Ezra crossed his arms. "Yeah. And I landed in your spotlight."
The king studied Ezra. Slowly, he nodded.
"If fate has brought you both... then the gods may have a purpose we do not yet understand."
He raised his hand. "Welcome, brave souls from another world. You now stand in the Kingdom of Vireldra."
His gaze lingered on Ezra longer than expected. As if he sensed something dangerous. Something hidden.
Ezra said nothing.
But inside, his thoughts burned.
So... now what? Another world? Another life?
What the hell am I supposed to do here?
Leo took a step forward, facing King Alaric Vandarion III with a narrowed gaze.
"Why did you summon us here?" he demanded.
Before the king could answer, a calm yet commanding voice floated from the upper stairwell, from beside the throne.
"You were summoned because we need your help. The Demon Lord is awakening."
Ezra and Leo turned sharply toward the sound.
Seated next to the king, on a throne of her own, was a woman who looked to be in her late thirties—tall, elegant, with long platinum-blonde hair that shimmered like moonlight. Her glacial violet eyes seemed to pierce straight through them. A silver-gilded crown rested atop her head.
She radiated a serene, regal authority that demanded respect.
"Who are you...?" Leo asked, his voice tinged with awe.
The king gestured with an open hand. "This is my wife."
The woman stood gracefully and bowed her head slightly.
"I am Queen Seraphina Vandarion."
Ezra and Leo both stiffened—shocked to realize they were speaking directly to the queen of a foreign realm.
"I'm Leonel 'Leo' Grayson," Leo said quickly, puffing his chest slightly. "But call me Leo."
Queen Seraphina nodded in acknowledgment, then her gaze shifted with precision to Ezra.
Ezra paused, eyes meeting hers with unreadable intensity. "Ezra Carter."
Another nod.
Then the queen turned to her right, where a young woman stood near her throne.
"Allow me to introduce our daughter, the princess."
The girl stepped forward. She was stunning—long, soft silver-blonde hair braided and tied with a velvet ribbon, iridescent lavender eyes shimmering under the chandelier light. A small crown sat gently on her head.
She curtsied lightly.
"I am Princess Elira Vandarion of the Kingdom of Vireldra. It's an honor to meet you, summoned hero Leo."
Leo smiled widely and nodded, clearly pleased with the attention.
Then Elira's eyes found Ezra.
She gave a quiet, curious nod. Ezra simply stood there, arms folded, unreadable.
A beat of silence.
Ezra broke it with a question, his voice low and measured. "How can I go back home?"
King Alaric's expression shifted, remorse creeping into his eyes.
"…I'm sorry. The summoning ritual only works one way. You can't return."
Ezra didn't move, didn't blink. He said nothing, but the air around him grew colder. His silence screamed louder than any words.
Leo, meanwhile, was thinking to himself.
Why is everyone paying so much attention to Ezra? I'm the hero here. That guy just tagged along.
Even the princess and queen looked at him longer. Tch. This is my stage.
I'll defeat the Demon Lord. I'll win the princess. Hell, I'll take the queen too if I want. Hah.
He looked back at the king, trying to refocus the spotlight.
"How am I supposed to stop a Demon Lord if I don't even have any powers or skills yet?"
The king turned his head to Archmage Thalorin Greymist.
The ancient mage stepped forward, runes glowing faintly in his violet eyes.
"Every otherworlder possesses a dormant gift. A system bound to the magic of this realm. Say the words 'Open Status' aloud. Your status screen will reveal your potential."
Leo's eyes glinted with excitement. Ezra remained impassive but intrigued.
Status screen? Sounds like a game. Might as well try it, Ezra thought.
Almost in unison, they both said:
"Open Status."
A sudden pulse of energy—and before each of them, a violet-hued translucent screen materialized, hovering in the air.
Leo let out a low whistle. "Whoa... This is awesome."
Ezra narrowed his eyes, golden irises scanning the interface silently.
This… might be useful.
He began to read.
The violet screen flickered in front of Ezra's face, lines of glowing text materializing in the air.
Name: Ezra Carter
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Gluttony Mage
Titles: Summoning Accident, The Unchosen
HP: 120
MP: 200
Strength: 10
Agility: 11
Endurance: 13
Mana: 250
Luck: 6
Charm: 5
Hunger Level: 1%
Normal Skills:
Appraisal: Allows user to analyze the status and attributes of people, creatures, and items. Reveals hidden information with increased proficiency.
Ability Skills:
None currently unlocked.
Magic Skills:
None currently unlocked.
Unique Skill:
Devour: A forbidden ability that allows the user to absorb traits, powers, or energy from defeated enemies or magical constructs. Highly unstable and potentially limitless. Its full potential is unknown.
Weapons: —
Items: —
Ezra's gold eyes widened as he scanned the details.
Gluttony Mage...? he thought, stunned. Titles: Summoning Accident. The Unchosen. Great.
His hands clenched slightly.
The only skills I've got are Appraisal... and something called Devour?
Just then, a strange sensation crawled across his vision. His irises pulsed red for a split second—then flickered back to gold.
Around him, murmurs rose.
"Gluttony Mage…?"
"That's a cursed class, isn't it?"
"Only two skills?"
The nobles and royal mages whispered nervously.
"Devour? That's not a common spell…"
"Is he dangerous?"
The king and queen exchanged glances, concern flashing behind their composed expressions.
"A Gluttony Mage," King Alaric muttered.
Queen Seraphina's voice was soft, almost inaudible. "How peculiar… and yet... potentially volatile."
Princess Elira's lavender eyes lingered on Ezra's screen.
Devour… she thought. A skill like that… is it destructive? Or something deeper? Why does he feel so... heavy?
Then, a loud voice burst out beside Ezra.
"AWESOME!" Leo exclaimed, arms outstretched as his own screen appeared.
Ezra glanced over.
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: 350
MP: 180
Strength: 40
Agility: 36
Endurance: 45
Mana: 210
Luck: 22
Charm: 30
Normal Skills:
Swordsmanship: Proficiency with all melee weapons, especially swords. Grants increased precision and damage.
Battle Intuition: Heightened reflexes and tactical awareness in combat.
Bravery Aura: Boosts morale and resistance to fear for allies within range.
Enhanced Recovery: Speeds up natural healing and stamina regeneration.
Ability Skills:
Holy Light Slash: A mana-infused strike that deals extra damage to evil or corrupted beings.
Hero's Step: Short-range teleportation with reduced cooldown during combat.
Mana Channeling: Efficient redistribution of internal mana to skills and defense.
Divine Guard: Temporarily summons a radiant shield that blocks physical and magical attacks.
Magic Sword Skills:
Lightblade Manifestation: Conjures a magical blade of pure light that slices through darkness.
Blessed Strike: Imbues attacks with divine power for added holy damage.
Holy Cleave: A wide-area slash dealing radiant damage to all enemies in its arc.
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 for a miraculous effect.
Weapon: Goddess-Forged Sword [Lightfang]
Items: Sacred Seal of the First Hero, Greater Healing Potion x3
Leo whistled proudly. "Now this is what I'm talking about!"
He flexed slightly, admiring his stats.
This proves it. I'm the real hero. Radiant Hero class, badass sword, divine powers... and then there's him, he thought, eyes flicking toward Ezra.
He turned to Ezra and said with a mock-sympathetic smile, "Hey man, don't worry about it. One skill's better than none, right?"
But inside, Leo was howling.
Look at that loser. 'Summoning Accident'? 'The Unchosen'? Gluttony Mage with a creepy red-eye glitch? What a joke. This world belongs to me.
Ezra remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the word glowing in violet light:
Devour.
The moment Leo's status screen finished displaying, the nobles and royal mages around the throne room broke into excited murmurs.
"Truly the Radiant Hero..."
"Look at those divine skills!"
"The Chosen of the Light has come at last!"
"He will surely defeat the Demon Lord!"
Their voices rang with praise, faces filled with awe. The court buzzed like a hive in celebration.
King Alaric and Queen Seraphina exchanged a long glance.
"Such power," the king murmured. "He truly may be the one to end this war."
"And if his strength continues to grow…" the queen added, "he could become unstoppable. A force no darkness could ever overcome."
Princess Elira looked on, her eyes wide.
So this is the Radiant Hero... she thought. His aura is brilliant. His abilities... almost too perfect.
Leo basked in the attention, soaking in every word, every look.
Yes, he thought, I'm the Radiant Hero. This is what I was meant for. I'll show this world that I'm its savior. They'll love me. They'll follow me. I'll rise to the top—with power, glory... and the women beside me.
Ezra stood silently, watching Leo's theatrical display.
I can see exactly what kind of person you are, Ezra thought. But I'll leave it alone... for now.
He turned his gaze inward.
I can't go home. That door's closed. So what now? What do I do in a world I was never meant to be in?
King Alaric cleared his throat.
"Radiant Hero Leo. Ezra. I would like you to meet several important figures of our realm."
He gestured to a man standing beside the throne. A priest—yet something in his stance was far from comforting.
The man appeared in his mid-60s: tall, thin, but exuding a sharp, unsettling presence. His hair was slicked back, pure white with a widow's peak, and his long forked beard was braided with golden chains and flame symbols. His eyes glowed gold.
His vestments were regal and intimidating—crimson and gold robes covered in flame motifs, a cloak embroidered with burning suns and radiant swords, and atop his head, a seven-spiked golden headdress that resembled a crown of divine fire.
In his hand, he carried a scepter-staff topped with a glass orb, inside which flickered a fragment of holy flame.
"Greetings, Radiant Hero Leo," the man said smoothly. "I am Cardinal Vexim of the Holy Flame, spiritual leader of the Church of Vireldra."
Leo smiled. "An honor to meet such a high-ranking figure. I look forward to working with you."
Cardinal Vexim returned the smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Radiant Hero. Truly, you are the light we have awaited."
Then his gaze shifted to Ezra. A knowing, almost dismissive look.
Ezra met his eyes.
The cardinal offered a disingenuous smile. "Ah, the accidental summon. Ezra Carter, I'm sorry you were torn from your home. I do hope you find peace here."
Ezra gave a curt nod. That fake smile. That empty tone. I've seen it before.
Then King Alaric gestured to a young woman standing beside Vexim.
Delicate and radiant, she looked to be about seventeen. Silky white hair flowed gently to her shoulders. Her soft crystal-blue eyes held a calm that felt almost sacred.
She wore a flowing priestess gown of white and pale gold, adorned with sun-spiral motifs and a silver-threaded belt with runes. In her hands was a relic staff crowned with a sunburst gem.
"Hello, Radiant Hero Leo, and Ezra Carter," she said gently. "I am Saintess Mireille. It's a pleasure to meet you both."
Leo smiled brightly. "The pleasure is mine, Saintess. I hope we can get to know each other well."
Inside, his mind reeled. She's beautiful. Pure. Divine. She should be mine—my light, my prize. The church's saintess belongs at my side.
Ezra nodded at her. "Saintess."
Cardinal Vexim turned to her. "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.
Perfect. She's being given to me already.
Vexim continued, "He must not stray from the Flame's path. And if he does... you must be the one to bring him back."
Mireille nodded softly. "Yes, Cardinal Vexim. I will help him. I will guide him to fulfill his destiny and protect this world."
"Good," Vexim said. "Make the church proud."
"I will."
The king then turned to the opposite side of the throne. "And finally..."
A man stepped forward—mid-40s, lean but commanding. His raven-black hair swept back and tied with a silver clasp. His steel-gray eyes held a predator's intelligence.
He wore a dark violet military coat trimmed in silver, bearing the sigil of a wolf. Black gloves adorned his hands, and a silver signet ring gleamed on his finger. A ceremonial saber hung at his hip.
"I am Duke Malrec Ravonis," he said, "Duke of Duskmarch and Grand Strategist of the Northern Wall."
He bowed slightly to Leo. "It is an honor, Sir Leo. The kingdom has a hero to save them now."
Leo nodded. "And I won't let you down."
Malrec turned his gaze to Ezra. They exchanged a subtle nod.
Then King Alaric spoke. "Radiant Hero Leo, you must begin your training today. You'll need it for the battles ahead."
Leo nodded eagerly. "I'm ready. I'll show these demons not to mess with us."
"Excellent," the king said. "Trainers await you in the palace grounds."
Leo began walking off but looked back at Ezra.
He waved. "See ya around, Ezra."
Ezra raised a hand in a quiet goodbye.
Inside, Leo smirked.
Enjoy watching from the sidelines. I'm the real deal. This world's hero. The saintess is mine. Power, glory, women—it's all for me.
The nobles, mages, and church figures began dispersing, saying their farewells to the royal family—none offered Ezra a single word.
Only Ezra remained.
The king approached him. "Why don't you train with the knights, Ezra? You might unlock more of your power."
Ezra stared at him a moment.
He's being kind to me. Strange... but not unwelcome.
Queen Seraphina added, "Yes. You should test your limits. Learn what your class is capable of."
Princess Elira walked up, smiling gently. "Stay in the palace. Let us help you."
Ezra looked at the three of them. For a moment, they resembled something… familiar. A family.
Then, a flash of memory—his parents, laughing in a car, reaching for him.
His hand clenched.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't stay here. I appreciate your kindness. But I need to make it on my own."
The king studied him. That fire… It reminds me of myself, he thought.
He laughed softly. "Very well, my boy."
He nodded to an attendant, who approached with a tray.
Ezra accepted a black and crimson knife and a pouch.
"That's eighty million gold," the king said. "A parting gift. Good luck."
Ezra bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."
Queen Seraphina and Princess Elira both smiled.
"Be careful," the queen said.
"Stay safe," the princess added.
Ezra turned and walked out, the attendant beside him.
When he stepped into the courtyard, he paused and looked up at the sky.
The breeze brushed his silver-black hair.
So this is it, he thought. A new world. A new path.
"I don't know what lies ahead," he whispered, "but this... is where it begins."
Ezra walked through the winding streets of the capital city, the tall spires and banners of the royal palace shrinking behind him. The cool wind rustled through his black-and-silver hair as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It was quiet around him, but the city was alive with noise and voices.
So this is it, he thought. Day one. A whole new world, and I'm already a ghost in it.
His thoughts wandered.
I need to figure out what to do. I need a place to sleep. Food. Maybe some answers about this Devour skill. But first... I need to look like I belong here.
As he walked deeper into the city, the crowds grew thicker. People bustled around, trading, shopping, shouting, bartering.
Then he heard it.
Whispers. Conversations. Dozens of them.
"The Radiant Hero's real?"
"They say he arrived today! Right inside the palace!"
"I heard the priests summoned him with divine light!"
"They say his sword glows with holy fire—burns evil just by being near it."
Children ran past, laughing and yelling.
"I'm the Radiant Hero!" one boy shouted, swinging a wooden stick like a sword.
"No, I am! My sword is brighter than yours!"
"You heard what the baker said, right? That the Radiant Hero's gonna beat the Demon Lord in one hit!"
"They say he's handsome too. Like a storybook prince!" squealed a girl, clutching her friend's arm.
Ezra sighed quietly, letting the voices swirl past him.
They don't even know his name yet, but they already love him. Leo. The Radiant Hero.
He turned a corner and passed rows of vendor stalls—roasted meats sizzling, spiced wine brewing, fresh bread displayed under glass domes. He didn't stop.
He passed a blacksmith's forge and glanced briefly at the glowing steel and soot-stained workers.
Then he saw it.
A clothing shop. Modest, but neatly arranged. A wooden sign hung above the doorway.
He paused and looked down at his clothes—the faded jeans, the jacket from his old world, the boots meant for pavement.
"I can't wear this anymore," he muttered. "Not here."
He pushed the door open. A soft chime rang as he stepped inside.
A middle-aged woman behind the counter looked up and smiled. "Welcome! How may I help you?"
Ezra gave her a polite nod. "Just looking."
He moved quietly between racks until a certain outfit caught his eye—a long black and silver coat with fine silver trim, durable dark trousers, and a pair of fingerless gloves made of supple leather.
This feels right, he thought.
He brought the items to the counter. "I'll take these."
He paid in gold and stepped into the changing room.
When he looked at himself in the mirror, something had shifted.
The new clothes fit him perfectly—sleek, practical, sharp. The reflection that stared back at him didn't look like the awkward boy from Earth.
He looked like someone who belonged to this world.
He nodded once.
When he left the shop, the sun was dipping lower, casting long golden light through the buildings.
He wandered a while longer, looking for somewhere to stay.
Then he saw it: The Broken Chalice Inn & Tavern.
The exterior was timeworn but sturdy. A two-story building of stone and old, enchanted oak. A faded wooden sign swayed gently overhead—a golden chalice with a jagged crack down the middle. Orange lanterns glowed at the doorway. A stable stood beside it, quiet and still.
Not too fancy. Not too filthy. Good enough.
Ezra walked up the steps and pushed the door open.
A wave of warmth hit him—roasted meat, burning oak, and the faint smell of old ale.
All conversation inside stopped for a split second.
Heads turned.
"Newcomer," someone muttered.
"Looks like a traveler."
"Odd hair color... golden eyes."
Ezra ignored the stares and stepped inside.
The inn was warm and lived-in. A large hearth dominated one wall, crackling fire lighting up soot-stained beams overhead. Long wooden tables were filled with rugged travelers, mercenaries, and townsfolk alike.
Behind the counter, a hulking older man with salt-and-pepper hair scrubbed a mug without looking up.
Then a woman approached.
She was lean and strong, with long wavy ash-blonde hair tied loosely. Her green-gold eyes flicked over Ezra, and she smiled with cool confidence. Her pointed ears gave away her half-elf heritage.
She wore a dark brown tavern dress with a green sash and worn boots.
"Hey there," she said. "Name's Nia Aeralis. Barmaid here. Looking for a room, stranger?"
Ezra met her gaze. "Room and food."
"Sure thing. Rooms are three silver a night. Meal's another two. You paying now?"
Ezra pulled out a gold coin from his pouch.
Nia blinked. "Whoa, whoa—this is too much."
"Keep it."
She stared at him for a moment, then grinned. "Generous type. Alright. Here's your key—Room Seven. Food will be up shortly."
"Thanks."
As he turned to go, she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind the bar.
"Granz," she said. "That guy's new."
Granz Dorran looked up, his eyes like sharpened steel. "Cold type. But quiet. Polite."
"He's got something in him," Nia said. "Hidden. I can feel it."
Granz smirked. "Haven't lost your instincts. He's got potential, that one. Might be trouble, too."
"You'd know trouble. Old Iron-Leg."
Granz chuckled. "Retired, not blind."
Meanwhile, Ezra made his way up the stairs.
As he turned a corner, he bumped into someone.
"Whoa—ouch!"
A thin boy, maybe fifteen, sat on the floor with a scowl. His tunic was too big, his boots flopped at the toes, and his satchel hung off his side.
"Watch where you're going!" the boy snapped.
Ezra looked down, gold eyes steady. "Sorry, kid."
"Who you calling—" The boy looked up, froze. "Whoa…"
Ezra offered a hand.
The boy took it. "I'm Tim. You're new, right?"
"Ezra."
Tim watched as Ezra walked past.
That guy… He's gonna be something big. I can feel it.
Ezra reached his room. Room Seven.
He opened the door and stepped inside.
A small fireplace burned softly. The bed was simple but clean. There was a washbasin, a desk, and a view of the cobbled street below.
Ezra closed the door behind him.
He sat on the bed and laid back, staring at the ceiling.
First day in another world, he thought. Royal family. Leo the "hero." That fake smile from the priest. A class no one understands. And a power called Devour.
He closed his eyes.
...Let's see where this leads.
Ezra lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling above him, the flickering firelight casting slow-moving shadows on the beams.
What am I supposed to do here? he thought.
No way home. No familiar faces. No plan.
He let out a quiet breath and sat up slightly.
"Open Status."
The violet-hued screen flickered into view before him, symbols shifting into clean, legible words.
Name: Ezra Carter
Age: 18
Race: Human (Otherworlder)
Level: 1
Class: Gluttony Mage
Unique Skill: Devour
Ezra narrowed his eyes, selecting the Devour skill for more information.
Devour — Unique Skill
Absorb the traits, powers, memories, or magical essences of defeated enemies or consumed magical entities. Devouring a target grants a percentage of their strength, skills, or potential. Effectiveness varies by target. Side effects: May cause brief physical or psychological instability during high-level devours. Hunger Level determines usability. Caution is advised.
Ezra stared at the description for a long moment.
So... this is what I have? Absorb and grow stronger through devouring. Dangerous. But potentially unlimited. It's not light. It's not holy. It's raw survival.
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
I can work with that.
He closed the screen and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
A few minutes passed in silence—until there was a soft knock at the door.
Ezra rose, walked over, and opened it.
Standing there with a warm smile was Nia, the barmaid, holding a tray of food.
"Hey," she said, "your food's ready."
Ezra looked down at the tray—roasted herbed meat, a bowl of seasoned root vegetables, a thick slice of bread with butter, and a small mug of warm broth. Steam curled from every item.
He nodded. "Thanks."
She handed him the tray. "No problem. Let me know if you need anything else."
She turned to leave, but Ezra said, "Wait. I've got a question."
She paused and looked back, raising a brow. "Sure. What's up?"
"Is there an adventurer's guild around here? I need work."
Her eyes lit with recognition, and she smiled. "Yeah, there is. Not far from here—just two blocks down. It's called the Iron Fang Adventurer Guild. Pretty decent crowd, strong types. You'll fit in if you know what you're doing."
Ezra nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks."
"Anything else?" she asked.
"No. That's all."
She smiled, starting to turn again—then paused. "Hey, what's your name, by the way?"
Ezra hesitated for a moment. "…Ezra. Ezra Carter."
Nia grinned. "Ezra Carter. Nice to meet you, Ezra."
He gave a short nod.
"Alright, see you around," she said, heading down the hallway.
Ezra closed the door behind her. Outside, Nia walked slowly, her thoughts drifting.
Ezra Carter, she mused. Mysterious guy. But polite. There's something about him...
Back in the room, Ezra set the tray down on the desk and sat. He began eating.
The food was warm and filling, subtly spiced and hearty.
As he ate, he noticed a faint shift.
Hunger Level: 1% → 0.5%
His eyes flickered—just for a moment—glowing red, then fading back to gold.
So that's how it works, he thought. My hunger... tied to Devour.
He looked down at his hands.
If I'm going to survive here, I need to get stronger. Fast.
He took another bite, chewing slowly.
Join the guild. Take jobs. Test Devour. Learn the system. Survive.
He glanced out the window. The sky was darkening, stars starting to peek through the navy clouds.
This world... It's not mine. But it's where I am. There's no going back.
His eyes grew heavy.
He finished the last of his food, set the tray aside, and laid back on the bed.
His gaze traced the ceiling again.
Tomorrow... I start something new.
His eyes closed.
Sleep took him.
To be continued...