The next morning, the cave was filled with the acrid scent of ozone and cooling metal. Tetsuya had worked through the night, his rhythmic hammering muffled by the natural thermal vent. As the first light of dawn filtered through the entrance, the Assassin Six stood ready, their gear no longer looking like store-bought scrap.
"Before we move," Tetsuya rumbled, stepping forward with a heavy leather roll. He laid it open, revealing weapons that hummed with a faint, dark mana.
"Haruto," Tetsuya said, handing him two sleek, long sword, they were specialized curve-edge sabers made from the Shadow Stalker's bones and reinforced steel. "Perfect balance. They won't chip against enchanted armor."
Haruto took them, the weight feeling like an extension of his own arms. "Better," he muttered, a rare look of satisfaction on his face.
"Kazuki," Tetsuya continued, tossing him two serrated daggers with matte-black hilts. "The edges are micro-etched. They'll tear through leather like paper."
"Nice," Kazuki whispered, spinning them into his sleeves in a blurred motion.
Finally, Tetsuya pulled out two heavy, metallic objects—the Iron Tubes. They were crude by modern standards, but in this world, they were terrifying. They were semi-automatic handguns with integrated silencer-enchantments carved into the barrels.
"The internal combustion magic is stable," Tetsuya explained, handing one to Yuuki and keeping the other for his own defense. "Six rounds per magazine. Use them only if the blades aren't enough."
He then handed out small, heavy spheres to everyone. "Smoke bombs. Infused with soot and a faint 'Blindness' hex Rin helped me weave. Five seconds of total darkness for anyone without our training."
Yuuki tucked the handgun into a hidden holster beneath his long coat. "Check your comms-beads. We meet at the North tavern in four hours. No names. No 'Hero' talk. If you're spotted, disappear. If you're cornered... leave no witnesses."
Akira grinned, cracking his knuckles as he looked at Kazuki. "Ready to show these locals how a real scout works, Sleepy-head?"
"As long as we don't have to walk too much," Kazuki yawned, his hood sliding over his eyes.
Tetsuya gave everyone a shining orb.
"It's communicating orb. We can communicate each other through some areas"
"Good. Now everyone attention! Now we are dividing into groups . Our goal is gather as much information is needed to how to get back to our world . And remember your main goal is to survive leading your partner beside. If you think you can't win retreat. We are going back to our world together!" Yuuki said
"Yes sir!" Everyone responded
"Good . Now move" Yuuki said
The three teams approached the town from different angles. To the guards at the gate, they looked like three separate pairs of low-rank adventurers.
They all stepped forward starting new journey.
Meanwhile at hero's party
The entrance to the Labyrinth of Grog was a jagged tear in the side of a mountain, surrounded by a battalion of Royal Knights. This wasn't a dark, lonely crawl—it was a televised conquest.
"Stay in formation!" commanded General Varkas, a massive man with a scar running through his beard and armor that looked like it had been forged from dragon scales. "The first floor is infested with Hobgoblins and Iron-Hide Spiders. Do not let your guard down, 'Heroes'!"
Suzuki Minato led the pack, his holy sword glowing with a light that pushed back the dungeon's natural gloom. Behind him followed his friends, the class beauties, the gyarus, and the delinquents—all dressed in pristine, enchanted gear.
"This is it!" Tanaka shouted, hefting his massive shield. "Time to show this world what we can do!"
A swarm of Iron-Hide Spiders, each the size of a wolf, skittered down from the ceiling. Their many eyes reflected the holy light of Suzuki's blade.
"Front line, brace!" Varkas roared. "Minato, use your Light! Tanaka, Ito—Intercept!"
Suzuki stepped forward, his face flushed with excitement. "
∗∗HeavenlySlash∗∗
!"
A wave of pure white energy erupted from his sword, vaporizing the first three spiders instantly. The knights cheered, but Varkas narrowed his eyes. "Too much power, boy! You're wasting mana on fodder. Efficiency is the key to survival!"
On the flanks, the "Gyarus" were giggling as they unleashed their new skills. Mori Mei twirled her fingers, and a spiral of fire—the
∗∗Siren'sFlame∗∗
—charred the webbing of the spiders, while the "Delinquents" charged in with heavy axes, laughing as they smashed through the monsters' exoskeletons.
"This is easy!" Oyadama laughed, his [Berserker] blood pumping. "It's like a video game!"
Aiko-sensei stood in the center of the formation, her hands glowing with a soft white light as she cast
∗∗Apostle'sBlessing∗∗
on the front liners, keeping their stamina high. "Everyone, please be careful! Don't go too far ahead!"
"Don't worry, Sensei!" Inoue Aoi called out, her hands freezing the floor to trap the spiders in place. "We've got the best equipment and the best General. What could possibly go wrong?"
General Varkas watched them with a mix of pride and concern. They were powerful—far more powerful than any normal human—but they fought like performers, not soldiers. They left their backs open, they shouted their moves, and they treated the dungeon like a playground.
"Listen to me!" Varkas barked, his voice echoing through the stone halls. "You are gifted with the Gods' favor, but arrogance is a faster killer than any monster. Watch your spacing! Suzuki, stop trying to be the only star—support your vanguard!"
"Got it, General!" Suzuki shouted back, though his eyes remained fixed on his high damage numbers appearing in the air.
As they pushed deeper into the first floor, leaving a trail of scorched earth and shattered monsters behind, they felt invincible. They were the "Saviors." They were the "Champions."
The deeper they descended, the more the air felt like a physical weight pressing against their lungs. The polished marble of the upper floors had given way to jagged, damp stone. The "excitement" of the class had vanished, replaced by the sound of heavy breathing and the rhythmic clanking of armor.
General Varkas held up a gauntleted hand. "Stop. The mana in this chamber is... stagnant. We've entered the territory of a Greater Predator."
"It's just another monster, General," Oyadama grunted, wiping sweat from his forehead. He gripped his heavy axe with white knuckles, his eyes darting into the darkness. "Let whatever it is come out. I'm tired of walking."
From the shadows of a massive stone pillar, a low, guttural growl vibrated through the floorboards—a sound so deep it made the students' ribs rattle.
THUMP.
A foot the size of a shield slammed into the light. Then another. Emerging from the darkness was a High-Orc Chieftain, standing nearly ten feet tall. Its skin was a mottled, scarred grey, and it wore scraps of rusted black plate armor. In its right hand, it dragged a massive, jagged stone club stained with dried blood.
"A High-Orc... here?!" Varkas's eyes widened. "Shields up! Now!"
"I've got this!" Suzuki Minato shouted. Driven by the praise he'd received all morning, he lunged forward. His sword ignited with a brilliant white radiance that illuminated the entire cavern. He swung with everything he had, the blade whistling through the air.
The white energy struck the Orc's chest—but instead of cutting through, the blade bounced off the thick, leathery skin with a metallic ping. The Orc didn't even flinch. It let out a roar that blew the hair back from Suzuki's face, and with a casual flick of its wrist, it swung the stone club.
CRACK.
Suzuki barely brought his sword up to parry. The force of the blow snapped his guard and sent him flying backward like a ragdoll. He smashed through a wooden weapon rack and hit the stone wall with a sickening thud, his glowing sword clattering across the floor.
"Minato-kun!" Sakura screamed, her staff shaking in her hands as she scrambled backward.
The Orc lunged toward the center of the formation. Tanaka and Ito tried to brace their heavy shields, but the monster's sheer physical weight crushed their stances. They were sent sliding across the floor, their boots screeching against the stone. The "Gyarus" and the other girls scrambled back in a blind panic, their hands trembling so much they couldn't even focus their energy.
"It's too fast! We can't hit it!" Inoue Aoi cried out, her breath hitching as the monster loomed over them.
The Orc raised its club over the huddled group of students, its eyes glowing with a murderous red light. Aiko-sensei froze, her hands reaching out instinctively to protect her students, but she was paralyzed by the sheer killing intent radiating from the beast.
"FALL BACK!"
A shadow blurred past the students.
CLANG!
General Varkas had intercepted the blow. He didn't use flashy light or magic circles; he used raw, veteran strength and a perfectly timed parry. The stone club struck his broadsword, sending a shower of sparks into the dark.
"Is this what you called 'easy', boy?!" Varkas roared over his shoulder, his boots cracking the stone beneath him as he held back the Orc's massive strength. "A dungeon isn't a playground! It's a grave for the arrogant!"
With a roar of his own, Varkas stepped into the monster's reach. He twisted his hips, redirecting the Orc's momentum and driving his heavy blade deep into the monster's thigh.
The Orc bellowed in pain, stumbling back. Varkas didn't stop. He delivered a brutal shield bash to the monster's jaw before spinning and delivering a horizontal cleave that forced the beast to retreat into the shadows.
"Regroup! Now!" Varkas commanded, standing like an iron wall between the students and the darkness. "Get Minato to his feet! Vanguard, find your footing! If you want to survive, stop acting like tourists and start acting like soldiers!"
The students scrambled to follow his orders, their faces pale and their pride shattered. They were safe for now, but the silence of the dungeon felt a lot heavier than it did an hour ago.
The return to the Royal Palace was a far cry from the triumphant parade the students had imagined that morning. The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall creaked open, admitting a group of teenagers who were no longer laughing. Their pristine white-and-gold capes were stained with cave dust and monster ichor, and the silence between them was heavy.
The infirmary smelled of antiseptic herbs and magical incense. Suzuki Minato lay on a cot, his chest wrapped in bandages. He wasn't looking at anyone; he was staring at the vaulted ceiling, his hand periodically clenching and unclenching.
"I didn't even see it move," Suzuki muttered, his voice cracking. "One hit. It just took one hit to break my guard."
Tanaka and Ito sat on the neighboring bench, slumped over. Their heavy shields, which they had bragged about that morning, were dented and leaning against the wall like scrap metal.
"We were lucky General Varkas was there," Tanaka said, rubbing a dark bruise on his shoulder. "If he hadn't stepped in... I don't think we'd be sitting here talking."
Aiko-sensei moved between the cots, her hands glowing with a soft, weary light as she checked everyone's pulses. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a look of deep guilt. "I should have stopped you all," she whispered. "I'm the teacher. I shouldn't have let you treat a life-or-death situation like a field trip."
"It's not your fault, Sensei," Inoue Aoi said, though her own hands were still shaking as she gripped a cup of water. "We all thought we were... special. We thought the magic made us invincible."
The "Gyarus"—Mori, Yamada, and Yoshida—were huddled in a corner, unusually quiet. The bright, confident energy they had shown in the palace gardens was gone.
"Did you see the Orc's eyes?" Mori whispered, hugging her knees. "It wasn't like a game. It really wanted to kill us. It didn't care about our 'Hero' titles at all."
Hashimoto Sakura sat by Suzuki's side, dipping a cloth in cool water. "We just need more training, right? The King said we have the highest potential in history. This was just... a fluke. A bad matchup."
"Was it?" Oyadama growled from the back of the room. The delinquent leader was leaning against the stone wall, his knuckles raw and red. "Varkas took that thing down without any 'Holy' light or fancy magic. He just had better timing. We're all power and no skill. We're just kids with big sticks."
The room fell silent at his words. For the first time since they had arrived in this world, the reality of their situation had truly sunk in. They were being groomed for a war they didn't understand, and they had just realized that their "cheat powers" didn't come with an "invincibility" button.
After the somber atmosphere of the infirmary, the students moved to the grand dining hall. The long oak tables were laden with roasted meats, spiced vegetables, and fresh bread, but the usual boisterous clatter of silverware was missing. Most of them ate in silence, the weight of their near-miss with the High-Orc still hanging over them.
Once the meal was finished, the students retreated to the dormitory wing—a lavish corridor of velvet carpets and enchanted hearths.
In one of the larger suites, Inoue Aoi and Hashimoto Sakura were sitting on the edge of a silk-covered bed. The "Gyarus"—Mori, Yamada, and Yoshida—had dragged their floor cushions over, forming a small circle. The fireplace crackled softly, casting dancing shadows against the stone walls.
A soft knock at the door preceded Aiko-sensei. She had changed into a simple linen robe, looking less like a "Divine Apostle" and more like the concerned teacher they remembered from Earth.
"Is everyone settling in?" Aiko asked, her voice hushed.
"We're okay, Sensei," Mori said, hugging a plush pillow. "Just... restless. I keep seeing that Orc's club every time I close my eyes. It felt so much bigger than it looked in the books."
Inoue Aoi looked down at her hands. "Sensei, do you think we're actually cut out for this? Back home, the biggest danger was a late-night walk or a chemistry lab accident. Now we're expected to be 'Saviors'?"
Aiko-sensei sat down on the rug with them, sighing deeply. "I ask myself that every hour, Aoi. I wish I could tell you that this is all a dream, but the bruises on Suzuki-kun are real. My job was supposed to be helping you pass exams, not helping you survive dungeons."
"It's weird, isn't it?" Hashimoto Sakura whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "While we were almost... you know... in that dungeon, I couldn't help but think about the others. The ones who left. Yuuki-kun and his group."
The room went silent for a moment. The "Introverts" who had walked away on the first day felt like a lifetime ago.
"I bet they're sleeping in some boring hayloft right now," Yamada muttered, trying to regain some of her usual sass, though it sounded forced. "They're probably complaining about the cold or how tired they are from walking."
"But they aren't fighting Orcs," Yoshida pointed out quietly. "Maybe they were the smart ones. They saw this coming and just... quit. They didn't want the responsibility."
Aiko-sensei stared into the fire. "I wonder if they're safe. Yuuki-kun always had a way of staying calm, even when things were chaotic in class. Sometimes I wonder if he knew something we didn't. He looked so... certain when he walked out those doors."
"He was always a freak," Inoue Aoi said, though there was no malice in her voice this time, only a strange, lingering doubt. "But at least he's not waking up with nightmares of stone clubs. I almost envy them for being 'weak' enough to leave."
"We aren't weak," Sakura said, trying to bolster her own courage. "We're the Heroes. We have to be. For the world... and for each other."
They all nodded, but as they eventually drifted off to their respective beds, the silence of the palace felt much larger and much colder than before.
Far beyond the human territories, where the sun was choked out by volcanic ash and the sky bled a permanent bruised purple, stood the Citadel of Grog'Zul—the Demon King's seat of power.
The throne room of Grog'Zul was carved from the skull of a prehistoric behemoth. Rivers of molten mana flowed through channels in the floor, casting a flickering, hellish red light on the figures gathered in the dark.
At the center of the room sat King Malphas. He was a tall, regal figure with skin the color of twilight and horns that curved like obsidian blades. He leaned his cheek on a clawed hand, his violet eyes staring at a floating magical projection of the Human Empire's training grounds.
"The Great Rite was successful, then?" Malphas's voice was a low vibration that made the air hum.
"It was, my Liege," hissed Belial, the High Arch-Mage of the Demon Realm. He stepped forward, his skeletal fingers tracing the shimmering projection. "The Empire has successfully summoned souls from the 'Other World.' They are currently gathered in the capital of Solstheim."
"How many?" Malphas mused, a thin, cruel smile touching his lips.
"Twenty-six 'Heroes' remain under the King's protection," Belial reported. "Our scouts in the Labyrinth watched them today. They are loud. They are bright. They carry the 'Holy' signatures of the Goddess."
"Twenty-six children," Malphas laughed, a cold, dry sound. "The King of Solstheim is desperate. He gambles with the souls of infants to keep his rotting throne. Tell me of their strength."
General Zul, a four-armed demon commander in jagged black plate armor, slammed a heavy fist against his chest. "They are clumsy, Sire. One among them—the boy Suzuki—holds a massive amount of mana, but he has no control. He vaporized a few spiders, then nearly had his skull crushed by a single High-Orc. If the Human General hadn't stepped in, the 'Great Savior' would be a corpse right now."
"So they are arrogant," Malphas said, standing up. His massive black cape billowed behind him like a cloud of smoke. "Good. Arrogance is a faster killer than any blade. Let them feast in their palace. Let them think they are winning their little 'training sessions' in the shallow dungeons."
"What are your orders, my King?" General Zul asked, his many hands gripping his weapons. "Shall we send the Vanguard to the border?"
"No," Malphas commanded, looking out over his vast, demonic legions preparing for war. "If we strike now, they will unite. Instead, we give them a false sense of security. Feed them small victories. Let them 'level up' on the weak fodder. And when they finally feel invincible... when they march out into the open plains thinking they are gods..."
He gripped the railing of his balcony, his claws digging into the bone.
"Then, we show them what a real war looks like. We will break the 'Heroes' one by one, and Aiko, their precious 'Apostle,' will watch as her world turns to ash."
To be continued.....
(Writer's note:Hello ! My reader sorry to say I will be busy for few days so please excuse me but I will complete it so no worry and my English is bad also sorry)