The light that swallowed them finally dimmed. When Avol opened his eyes, he was no longer in his office—no skyscrapers, no glass, no smell of printer ink. Instead, the scent of burning incense filled his nose. His vision adjusted, and he found himself standing in a massive cathedral-like hall.
Dozens of tall, hooded figures stood in prayer around a magic circle engraved into the marble floor. The circle still glowed faintly with gold runes, humming with power. Every column along the walls was carved with divine symbols—some looking like suns, others like radiant wings.
And in the middle of the hall, seventeen bewildered teenagers—him included—were trying to figure out if this was a fever dream or if they had just been kidnapped by some very dedicated cosplayers.
Avol's lip twitched. Of course. Isekai 101. Damn Plane-kun actually did me dirty. From CEO of a multi-billion corporation to "Lost Child #17" in a magic ritual. Classic.
The others hadn't realized yet, but Avol had seen enough anime and light novels to know exactly what this was. He quickly plastered a slightly scared look on his face and shuffled his feet like he was confused. No way was he about to reveal that he already had a whole mental guidebook for these situations.
At that moment, a middle-aged man stepped forward from a raised platform at the far end of the cathedral. He had slicked-back golden hair, sharp eyes, and wore a robe embroidered with gold thread that screamed "I'm important, fear me."
"Welcome, young heroes, to the Kingdom of Artemia," he declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I am Regan von Discorria, Prime Minister of His Majesty's glorious realm."
The murmuring among the teenagers grew. Some looked excited, others panicked, and a few just froze like their brains blue-screened.
Regan spread his arms wide, playing up the drama. "You have been summoned here under the blessing of the Goddess of Light, Arya. Our kingdom faces a great threat—the demons of the Abyss—and only true heroes can stand against them. That is why we have called upon you."
One boy near the front clenched his fists. "Demons? Does that mean… we're the chosen ones?" His voice wavered between fear and excitement.
Regan nodded solemnly. "Indeed. At first, we intended to summon a single candidate, but the Goddess judged his companions to be essential. Thus, sixteen of you were brought forth together."
"Sixteen?" A girl whispered, confusion spreading among them.
Regan's brows furrowed as he finally noticed the odd number. He scanned the group, then chuckled lightly. "Ah. It seems… the summoning circle pulled one extra soul." His gaze swept over the group and briefly lingered on Avol. "A minor error. Nothing to be concerned about."
Avol raised a brow internally. Yeah, sure. Extra baggage. Probably me. Thanks, Plane-kun, for the economy class ticket to 'World-Saving Hellscape.'
The Prime Minister continued, "You will be given accommodations in the royal palace. Tomorrow, your training and orientation will begin. There, your classes, realms, and potential shall be measured. But first…"
With a clap of his hands, priests carried forward trays holding thin, palm-sized crystalline plates. They glimmered faintly like mirrors made of liquid silver.
"These," Regan announced, "are Status Plates. They will reveal your current standing: realm, class, titles, and any divine blessing."
Gasps filled the hall. The teenagers, still shaky, each received a plate. Some hesitated before placing their palms on the surface. The first boy to try it yelped as the plate flared with light, then words appeared across the mirror-like surface.
Avol peeked.
Name: Kaito MatsudaAge: 18Realm: Surface King Realm – Peak Stage (Tier 10, VS Battle 10-C)Class: Sword HeroAuthority: Blessed Sword ArtsTitle: Hero of the Light
Kaito's eyes went wide. "Surface King Realm… Peak Stage…! I-I'm already this strong?!"
One of the knights standing nearby smirked approvingly. "With power like that, lad, you could crush boulders into dust with your bare hands."
Excited chatter exploded around the group. Another girl tried her plate, trembling as her status appeared.
Name: Erika TanakaAge: 17Realm: Surface King Realm – Middle Stage (Tier 10, VS Battle 10-C)Class: Holy PriestessAuthority: Light HealingTitle: Saintess Candidate
"A priestess!" Erika gasped, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can heal people…"
The priests around the chamber muttered in excitement, some bowing their heads.
One after another, plates lit up, revealing the heroes' realms and roles. Most fell between Surface King Realm – Early to Peak. A few reached Moon Sovereign Realm – Early Stage (Tier 11, VS Battle 9-B), which made the knights gape in awe.
Then it was Avol's turn.
He calmly placed his hand on the plate. Light engulfed his palm before letters slowly etched themselves onto the surface.
Name: Avol LancasterAge: 18Realm: Surface King Realm – Early Stage (Tier 10, VS Battle 10-C)Class: ??? (Unregistered)Authority: Fusion / UpgradeTitle: The Extra
The room went quiet for a moment. Then a few muffled laughs escaped.
"Pfft—Early Stage? That's bottom tier!"
"And his class isn't even registered?"
"'The Extra'? Hah! He's literally labeled as useless."
The nobles watching from the balcony exchanged whispers. Even some of the summoned kids glanced at Avol with pity.
Avol himself blinked at the plate, keeping his expression neutral. Inside, he smirked. Perfect. Weak chicken on the outside, god-tier Authority on the inside. Stay underestimated, stay alive.
Still, he tilted his head innocently, pretending to be embarrassed. "Uh… so, does this mean I'll, um, support from the back?"
A few chuckles followed, cementing the impression that he was harmless.
But deep inside, his plate glowed faintly—only visible to him. Words flickered beneath the Authority line:
[Hidden Function: Fusion/Upgrade transcends realm restrictions. Potential growth → Realm 0 (Outsider).]
His lips barely curved. Busted, huh? Good thing nobody else can read that.
That night, after being escorted to lavish guest rooms in the palace, Avol lay awake on his silk-covered bed. Moonlight streamed in through tall arched windows.
He stretched his hand out, whispering, "Fusion."
Two random items he picked from the room—a quill pen and a candleholder—floated slightly above his palm, glowing faintly before merging together. The result was a heavier, sharper quill made of tempered bronze, capable of cutting through wood.
Then he whispered, "Upgrade." The quill glowed again, morphing further until the tip shimmered like steel.
Avol tested it against the edge of the wooden desk beside his bed. Scrrrch! The wood split cleanly.
His grin widened. Yeah. Let the others laugh. While they're playing catch-up, I'll be rewriting the rules of this world.
He set the weaponized quill down, closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep. Tomorrow, the training would begin.
And Avol had no intention of staying "The Extra" for long.