Dark clouds covered the sky as the snow blanketed the frozen waste that had become a battlefield. For as far as the eye could see, the frigid ground was littered with nothing but corpses. Slowly but surely, the snow would erase the last traces of the battle that had taken place here. None of the bodies that dotted the battlefield showed any sign of life even as the snow covered their skin; their life-less eyes simply stared up at the clouds, as if lamenting their fate.

Some of the corpses wore garnished heavy armor, whilst others wore lighter armor or luxurious robes. Even though their armor and equipment were now in a battered and tarnished state, the quality it had once displayed was apparent; speaking much about the power and influence these people had possessed while alive.

However, relative to the total number of corpses that lay strewn about on the planes, the bodies of these people were few. While their bodies showed no signs of decomposition—as if they had succumbed mere minutes ago—the rest of the battlefield was in a much worse state of decay.

Some of the dead only had lightly sunken in faces or lacked an eye or a limb, but many looked like they had been dead for years; their rotten skin barely covering what remained of their bones. Creatures that were nothing more than barren skeletons with crushed bones and skulls were a common sight. Behemoths the size of elephants—their bodies like that of several humans stitched into one horrifying creation—had piles of bodies strewn around them. Intestines, cut off limbs and heads, everywhere one looked there were signs of death and gore. It was as if this battlefield had been taken directly out of the perverted nightmares of a madman.

Amidst this frigid battleground, a lone figure staggered forward deliberately. Heavy, fur-covered boots left deep footprints in the snow. A long, dark coat wafted weightily with the chilling wind behind them and a heavy grey armor covered the entirety of the figure's large body, their head concealed by a menacing helmet in the shape of a crown. Through the slits of the helmet, a pair of chilly, blue-glowing eyes stared out, birthing a sense of dread in all who gazed into them.

This threatening figure, this king amongst men, moved forward relentlessly, ignoring the countless dead that surrounded him. He could feel no cold, only a dull ache. Soon he would feel nothing at all. For the first time in over a decade, the king's disparate spirit reached a place of calm. Eventually, the king stopped before the decayed corpse of a tall skeleton. Robes that had once been extremely extravagant but were now simple tatters covered most of the skeleton's frame.

Putting forth his arm, a faint blue glow started spreading as the king let the snow coalesce on his gauntlet. He clenched his fist, the glow disappearing with a low whiz, and as if he used up the last bit of his energy for this sole action — he fell down onto his knees.

The eyes of the skeleton before him lit up with a bright cold blue. The corpse gazed at the armored figure before it.

-My king

A coarse and eerie voice sounded out.

The king looked at his servant wordlessly, before moving his hands up to his helmet. A place was revealed as the king removed the helmet, his ashen hair fluttering in the wind. His eyes slowly lost their glow as he extended the helmet towards his servant without hesitation.

The skeleton stared at its liege with shock. But after seeing the look in its liege's eyes—a look that carried a thousand words in it—the servant nodded its skull. Its eyes flickered.

-...Understood, my king

The corpse almost whispered, accepting the helmet with both its skeletal hands as it rose. Not a sound was made as it turned around and left the frozen battlefield behind. Not once did it turn to look back at the kneeling figure of the liege it had served for so long.

And the figure did not move. Not even long after his servant had disappeared over the horizon did the once-king rise from where he knelt. Frozen like a statue, he and the remnants of the battle that had taken place here disappeared slowly beneath the ever-persistent snowfall.

"Next!" A brusque voice called out.

A group of over one hundred and fifty people was gathered in a sunny clearing in a large forest on the northern outskirts of the Duchy of Coldoan. Half of them stood in a long line that moved forward at a slow place while the rest had started gathering at the top of a small hill in the center of the clearing. There were many wooden crates with people sitting on them both at the top and the base of the hill. Whenever a person reached the front of the line, they would answer the questions of a burly man with a piece of paper in his hands and then join the people on the hill.

Lane nervously looked at the people around him as the line moved forward little by little. Chestnut, short hair clumsily hung over a furrowed, tense face. With a tall frame and bright blue eyes, he stared at the faces of the others. His hands were wet with sweat and he couldn't get his heart to stop beating like crazy in his chest. Everybody else in the line was chatting with excitement; their eyes filled with anticipation. He was the only one who feared what was to come — and with good reason. He didn't belong here.

He still had a hard time accepting that he succeeded in getting here. He'd actually managed to join the summoning ceremony without anyone noticing.

He'd heard rumors in town a few weeks back that the next summoning was about to take place soon. At first, he didn't pay it much attention. This wasn't the first one and it was sure to not be last. It wasn't his concern no matter his interest in the Summoned. But then, while working part-time at the local inn, he overheard a pair of the Summoned talking about how the ceremony would be performed in Linbour forest this time. They even talked about the general area it would be performed in.

That''s when Lane first thought of this plan.

Everybody knew how powerful the Summoned were. Compared to the Natives, they were all-powerful beings exempt from most of the rules and laws that the Natives had to follow. The Summoned could do whatever they wished, even rob or kill a Native, and there were seldom any consequences. Even in those rare situations when there were consequences, they were never as serious as they would have been for a Native. The bastards that had beaten his mother had gotten away scot-free, after all. The town-guards barely even gave them a warning. Not that they could have done anything even if they tried to. The guardsmen from a town Haeryn's size could barely hold their own even against the weakest of Summoned.

This was all because of the power that all of the Summoned were given. This power allowed them to grow in strength incredibly quickly and without effort — and it was all handed to them on a silver platter when they first arrive in our world. All of that was part of the deal that the gods and the royal family struck nine years ago after the fall of the fortress at Sabreguard Pass. A deal to find a way to fight back against the threat that had annihilated the Old Empire over a century ago.

The Summoned called this power they had 'the interface'. Lane didn't know much about this 'interface', but he knew that it allowed the Summoned to view their strengths and weaknesses, while at the same time making it easier for them to adjust them and grow stronger. The fact that all Summoned were given this power was simply unfair — that's what Lane thought. Their world was the one in danger. Why did they have to rely on people from another world to save it? He couldn't understand the reasoning behind it, nor why the royal family had agreed to it. Even if it wasn't the first time.

But the Summoned weren't the only ones who could gain access to this 'interface'. There were cases of Natives also gaining that power. But it was rare. If there were currently a few thousand with this power, then only a handful of them were Natives.

Despite this, Lane had always secretly hoped that he could also gain that power. That he could be one of those few Natives. And that's why he was here. The method for a Native to gain access to the interface was unknown. But he had thought that he might find a way by taking part in the ceremony that the Summoned performed when they first arrived in this world. And so, he'd sold the last few items he owned to earn enough money to travel to the duchy's northern border where Linbour Forest was located. The Summoned hadn't bothered at all to hide the fact that they were performing the ceremony here so Lane only had to ask around a bit in a nearby town to learn its general location.

When he found the clearing where the Summoned had gathered to prepare, he'd hid amongst the nearby trees. After some, a pair of Summoned had moved closer to the trees and created a glowing gate that people started appearing out of. Lane had taken advantage of the situation to sneak up behind the gate and join the group of people exited it. Miraculously, he had succeeded and no one had shown signs of suspecting anything.

And that was how he ended up in his current situation. Even though his clothes were different and he stood out like a sore thumb, nobody seemed to take much notice. When the Summoned who were organizing the ceremony asked them to line up, the newly Summoned did as they were told without complaint. From what he overheard while standing in line, he gathered that most of the Summoned had a grasp of the situation before they arrived here.

"Next!" The burly man at the front of the line cried out, pulling Lane out of his thoughts. It was his turn. He hesitantly took a few steps forward. When Lane approached, the burly man looked him over with raised eyebrows. "Name?" The man asked curtly.

"Lane Davenrish," He said, trying not to look too conspicuous. The man looked him over again for a few seconds. "I get that some of you are excited about roleplaying and all that, but dressing up beforehand?" The man let out a tired sigh. "And what's up with the name? Just be happy with what your parents gave ya'. Not that it matters to me." The man jotted down a few things on the paper, before looking up at him again. "Age?"

"Twenty-one," Lane tried to ignore what the man had said about his name and answered the question instead. The man nodded his head at his answer. "Place of origin?"

"Hamburg, Germany," This time, Lane answered with confidence. The man paused and looked through some of the other pages in his hands, before looking up at Lane again. "There was another fella earlier from Hamburg. You know each other?"

Of course there was. It was from him I learned of the place, to begin with. Lane didn't voice out his thoughts. Instead, he merely shook his head at the man's question. "No,"

"Really? Small world, huh." The man jotted down Lane's information on the paper. "That's all for now." He pointed his head towards the small hill where the newly Summoned that had already answered the questions were. "Head over there for now."

Without saying another word, Lane left the line and headed towards the group of people as the man had told him. His heart was beating even faster than before and his back was covered with sweat, but he had made it. He'd succeeded in taking one more step towards his goal.

When he reached the small hill, he stopped and closed his eyes to relax. He didn't want to talk with any of the Summoned right now and possibly blow his cover. Instead, he just stood there and waited until all the people in the line had talked to the man and reached the hill.

"LISTEN UP!" It took some time but eventually, the man's voice sounded out once again, catching the attention of all the people present. After having finished cataloging the new arrivals, he'd moved to the hill along with the other Summoned who were administrating the ceremony. There weren't many of them. Including that man, there were only four of them. Two of them, a man and woman, were the ones who had created the gate earlier. The third one was a bespectacled man who assisted the burly man. Lane had been surprised that there were so few of them. Especially considering how many crates they brought. To begin with, how did they move all of those crates this deep into the forest?

"Name's Clyde. I've been put in charge of the summoning here in Coldoan this year and I don't intend to go easy on any of you. Got that?" The man announced in an unquestioning tone. Some of the Summoned had begun chattering but stopped once Clyde spoke again. "Considering that you're here, I'm sure some of you have rather powerful backers. But that doesn't mean jack shit to me. Understood?" He glared at the people gathered in front of him, and Lane felt his hair crawl when Clyde's gaze passed over him. "It shouldn't be news to you that not even half make it through the ceremony. That's all to weed out the trash."

Most of the people nodded their heads as if what he just said was obvious, but there were a few who were to be surprised by this. Lane was one of them. Less than half survive?! I know that they're supposed to go back to their world when they die, but that's still unbelievable. These people are crazy.

"We'll be starting the first test in a few minutes, but before that," Clyde waved a finger in front of him and all of the people around Lane looked at the space in front of their faces in surprise. "What you have there is my status window." Lane observed the people around him. They were all looking at nothing. "If you think about your status window, it'll appear in front of you. If you want, you can also share it with others. Take a minute and get used to it." Clyde explained further. All the Summoned started waving around with their hands and several excited exclamations were heard.

The Summoned started talking with each other again, and it seemed some of them tried sharing their status window with others. Lane ignored all of them and pretended to be focused on something in front of him as he imitated the movements of those around him. It felt awkward, considering he didn't even know what this 'status window' was supposed to look like.

After a couple of minutes, Clyde cleared his throat. "Enough of that. That's all you get for now. You can learn about stats, classes, and all that later. Right now, we'll begin with the first test of the ceremony." An unpleasant grin formed on Clyde's face, and he signaled towards one of his colleagues. The woman, who had short brown hair and glasses, pointed her hand up. A small light appeared above her finger and flew high up into the sky, where it exploded into hundreds of small red lights that gradually disappeared. Lane watched the display with wide eyes.

This was the first time he'd seen something like that. Magic like it was used in festivals in the duchy's capital sometimes, but he'd never seen it for himself. It was almost breathtaking, watching the different lights float in the sky as they flickered out of existence. He never would've gotten the chance to witness this in the town where he lived.

"Remember that flare," Clyde's voice rang out once again. "That's the signal that the first test is finished. When you see it, you should head towards it." As he explained, one of the newly Summoned raised their hands in the air. With a slightly annoyed expression, Clyde pointed towards that person. "What?"

The Summoned, a young man with odd-looking clothes that Lane imagined would blend into the canopy of the forest well, lowered his hand. "What exactly is the first test?" He asked.

Clyde clicked his tongue. "I was getting to that, damn it." The young man looked a bit embarrassed after seeing Clyde's reaction. Clyde spoke again. "Like I said, we'll be starting the first test soon. The first test is real easy too," He pointed over to the forest. "See that? That's the forest of Linbour. Nothing special, really. The worst thing you'll run into are raccoons trying to steal your food. Your job is to survive there until tomorrow."

Murmuring broke out amongst the crowd. A few of the Summoned were confused by this. Lane was waiting for Clyde to continue.

The unpleasant grin on Clyde's face returned as he watched the Summoned. "'Course, it'd be boring if all you had to fight was raccoons, right? That's why we'll release a few devourers to spice things up a bit." This raised quite a fuss amongst the gathered Summoned. They might not have heard of a devourer before, but from the name alone it was clear it was on another level than a raccoon.

Lane held his breath when he heard the name of the creatures. A devourer wasn't a monster that he—or any normal person for that matter—could survive against without a weapon. Thinking about being stuck in a forest with creatures like that, his pulse rose and he started sweating again. He knew infiltrating the summoning ceremony would be dangerous, but he never imagined they would be this reckless. But it was too late for him to back out now.

Clyde ignored the distress of the Summoned as he gestured towards the forest. "We're letting the first devourer go in exactly five minutes." He chuckled. "If I were you, I'd start moving right about now."