Night Owl’s limp body traced an arc through the air, flung toward the onrushing crowd.

But none of the knights or adventurers looked her way. Every eye was fixed on the shadow demon in the distance. If she crashed into the crowd in her weakened state—who cared?

No one, except her three teammates.

“Third-tier spell—Wind Surge!”

A gale swept upward, lifting Night Owl high before she could hit the ground.

Gal, sprinting forward, leapt into the air. Muscles bulged under his armor as he caught her, curling his body to absorb the impact. His greaves plowed two deep trenches through the turf at the square’s edge, but Night Owl suffered no further harm.

Nova rushed over, pressing his joined hands against the stump of her arm. Healing light of emerald green spilled through his fingers.

Night Owl, still barely conscious, managed a bitter smile at the sight of her comrades.

“Are you insane?” Nova snapped as he worked. “So many experts here, and you had to show off? What were you thinking?”

“I thought… if I could sense it, it wouldn’t be too strong…” she whispered weakly.

“Then you should have told us!”

“No time… it was about to move…”

“Ugh…” Nova gritted his teeth and focused on stabilizing her.

Ivan floated upward, eyes on the summoning circle.

The shadow demon surged faster, black mist seething with a thousand twisted faces.

A paladin charged, tower shield raised—but the mist slithered past like a snake.

Three royal archers loosed enchanted arrows, only for the swirling darkness to shred them before they reached the core.

“Holy Barrier!”

Golden radiance flared before the priests, but the demon split into seven phantoms, smoke trailing, cutting in from every angle.

A young priest clutched his throat and collapsed—his own shadow strangling him on the ground.

The combined barrier faltered, and before anyone could patch it, the shadow demon forced its way through.

The Grand Archbishop, still channeling the ritual, couldn’t intervene.

But the grey-robed mage beside him could.

His staff, inlaid with a golden crystal, blazed with brilliance.

“Eighth-tier magic—Light Prison!”

Twelve colossal swords of radiance tore through the clouds, crashing down to pin the demon.

From the writhing mist came mocking laughter. “Futile resistance!”

The darkness collapsed inward, then exploded outward.

The shockwave shattered the light-swords into motes of dust. Five priests nearest were hurled back, bleeding from nose and ears. Even the grey-robed mage staggered half a step.

“Ha ha ha ha!” The shadow demon, unbound, raised a claw toward the ritual’s heart. “Die, human Hero!”

CLANG—

A greatsword intercepted, steel against shadowed talon.

“You—what—”

He knew the Hero Summoning well.

The newly arrived Hero should be only level 1.

Even with divine blessings, there was no way he could master his power so quickly.

And this figure—blocking him not with magic, but with sheer physical strength—

The demon’s mind, though elemental, raced furiously.

“A… trap?”

“Yo! Didn’t think you’d figure it out, you inky bastard!”

The Duke of Alamar grinned wildly.

“Too bad you’re not a vampire—I’ve been dying to rip those apart.”

The demon didn’t banter. He shrank, ready to flee.

At that moment, the Grand Archbishop struck his staff to the ground.

A dome of light rose from the ritual, sealing the demon inside.

Only then did the truth hit him.

This wasn’t a Hero Summoning. It was a trap—one woven with teleportation magic.

And worse—another hidden powerhouse burst from the knight ranks.

Of the Seven Great Powers of the United Kingdom, more than half were here.

All for him.

“Elinor! I know you’re here! Help me! We can still escape!”

The Duke’s greatsword hammered him blow after blow. Overwhelmed, the demon could only hope his ally, Elinor, would break the circle from outside. Then, even at a cost, he might yet escape.

But no matter how he roared, the vampire never appeared.

He had suspected as much…

“Elinor! You [elemental curse] traitor—!”

Meanwhile, no one noticed a priest named Mena quietly edging against the flow of the crowd.

Slipping into an alley, she breathed in relief.

Good thing she’d hung back—otherwise, she’d be trapped too!

Save the shadow demon?

She’d be an idiot to throw her life away. Couldn’t she see how well-prepared the humans were? Better to take punishment later than die now.

Elinor glanced back one last time.

The demon, trapped within the light, beset by four equal-level foes, faltered at last.

A blow shattered the sealing cuff on his arm—his form began to unravel.

Without a shred of guilt, Elinor transformed into a bat. Even weakened in daylight, she flew swiftly away.

The four champions sensed her aura as she fled, but none pursued.

The prey before them was too rich to abandon.

——

Western archipelago, on an uninhabited island near the mainland, several boats rested on shore.

Few knew of the secret chamber beneath the island.

There, a priest and nine clerics had just finished their preparations.

A summoning circle glowed on the stone floor—not especially complex for its purpose, though drawn from precious materials.

“Is this really okay? The array looks… too simple,” one cleric murmured.

The priest shook his head. “The circle itself is easy. The difficulty is always gaining the Lord of Light’s permission. After all, summoning a Hero relies on divine power.”

He spoke for all to hear, calming doubts before the prayer began.

Kneeling, they began their chant.

The circle shone with golden light.

When the prayer ended, the priest raised his head—

Two figures stood within the glow.

A tall blonde woman with bloodied dagger in hand, frowning at her new surroundings.

And a black-haired middle-aged man, trousers half-off, seated on a toilet, staring blankly at his folded hands as though lost in deep thought.