Daion moved through the trees, surprised by how quiet everything was. He had expected a forest teeming with monsters, yet so far, he hadn't encountered a single animal. Maybe his earlier encounter had just been bad luck… or maybe something else was keeping the creatures away.
Even so, his stomach growled insistently. He hadn't eaten a thing since arriving in this world, and who knew how long it had been since his last meal back in the god's domain. His pace slowed when he spotted, through the undergrowth, a pair of creatures—rabbits, or at least something like them. They were larger than normal, with rounded ears and thick fur similar to what he had seen near the lake. They nibbled at the grass, completely oblivious to his presence.
He recalled what the hooded man had told him about the gauntlet.
If it filters out diseases, I don't have to worry about this world's viruses. All I need to do is cook them… they'd be a good source of protein, he thought, moving forward cautiously.
He studied them closely. There was something strangely familiar about them, though he couldn't quite place what.
A gust of wind rustled the leaves. Daion looked up, noticing the golden tint in the sky; the suns were no longer visible through the canopy. Twilight was creeping in, and the forest seemed to close in around him, making it harder to see. Even so, walking among trees and shadows didn't feel entirely foreign to him—like his body remembered it by instinct.
He tightened his grip on his sword. His steps were measured, silent. The weapon felt lighter in his hands… more natural.
Weird… I could've sworn it weighed twice as much when I first got here.
The rabbits were now within reach. Daion raised the sword above his head, ready to strike, when something burst through the undergrowth behind him. Just before he could deliver the blow—
CLANG!
A sharp metallic sound shattered the silence. The rabbits' ears perked up, and they bolted instantly, vanishing into the vegetation. Daion reacted on instinct, slashing toward one of them, but his blade only tore up dirt.
"Damn it…" he clicked his tongue, frustrated. "Guess it's my lucky day."
His gaze turned toward the source of the noise. It was repetitive and brief—like steel scraping against steel. Someone—or something—was fighting nearby.
He gripped the hilt tighter and headed toward the clamor, his pulse quickening. The metallic clashes grew louder with each step. He slipped between the trees, staying hidden in the shadows, until he finally caught sight of the battle.
Four figures fought fiercely, their weapons flashing as they surrounded grotesque creatures: massive, winged eyes darting in erratic flight.
A chill ran down his spine at the sight. They floated without any clear pattern, their enormous pupils locked on their prey with a sick, predatory focus. Then one of those eyes split open down the middle, revealing a circular maw filled with jagged fangs, right in the center of the pupil.
Daion's stomach churned. One of the creatures lunged at a young woman armed with a spear. She reacted instantly, blocking the attack with ease, as if she had anticipated it. Then Daion noticed—each fighter wore a gauntlet like his.
They must be summoned… because I doubt jewel-studded gauntlets are a fashion trend here.
That detail unsettled him. He hadn't expected to run into so many at once. Then again, the hooded man and that so-called god had already hinted at it.
His attention shifted to a man shouting orders from the rear—clearly the commander. He directed the others with sharp precision, coordinating the group's movements. His gauntlet was larger, covering the entire forearm, with sharp spikes jutting from it, giving it a menacing look. In his other hand, he wielded a short sword adorned with golden engravings and glowing markings—an elegant weapon, fit for a hero. Compared to it, Daion's dull, black blade looked… insignificant.
Maybe mine will look like that after absorbing enough energy… though I'm not a fan of the spikes, he thought, watching the fight from the cover of the trees.
Beyond the man's gear, what truly impressed him was his skill. He moved with surgical precision, blocking and countering with ruthless efficiency. Despite the short reach of his weapon, every strike landed clean. When one of the eyes lunged with its maw open, the commander simply ducked and drove his blade deep into its underside.
Daion crept closer, studying the group's coordination. While one distracted the enemy, another delivered pinpoint attacks. Their movements were fluid. Deadly.
He thought back to his own earlier fight… and felt a pang of shame.
Then, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Someone—or something—was watching him. He barely turned his head… and found himself staring into a massive pupil, mere inches from his face.
Every hair on his body stood on end. It had seen him. There was no time to think. The winged eye let out a shrill, unnatural screech before lunging straight at him.
CLACK!
Its fangs clamped down on his sword. Daion felt a brutal yank. He tried to pull the weapon free, but the creature's strength was staggering. The noise drew the group's attention, but they were far too busy to help.
"Shit…!"
Daion wrestled with the sword, trying to wrench it free from the creature's jaws. With a sharp, powerful twist, he managed to fling the beast backward.
Great… I'm stronger.
He could feel it coursing through his body—the energy he had absorbed earlier was kicking in. But the relief lasted barely a second. The creature rose again, its pupils blown wide with fury, and charged at him faster than before.
Daion knew he couldn't run. He used the sword as bait and, just as he expected, the monster clamped down on it with its jagged teeth, forcing him to give ground. He lost his balance and rolled through the trees until he landed in a clearing—right in front of the other summoned fighters still locked in battle.
The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, but there was no time to recover. Without thinking, he grabbed one of the creature's wings and twisted with all his strength.
A sickening snap echoed as the appendage nearly tore free. The beast shrieked in pain, but Daion didn't let go. Taking advantage of the moment, he tightened his grip and slammed it into the ground with brutal force. The winged eye convulsed, its mouth gaping in a final, silent cry. Daion drove the sword into its side without hesitation.
The creature twitched for a few seconds… then went still. Daion let out a ragged breath, his chest heaving. He dropped to one knee, exhaling in relief. When he looked up, he found the other summoned ones staring at him with puzzled expressions.
"How's it going?" he said, hoping to break the tension. The strange looks didn't fade, but before he could say anything else—
A metallic flash cut through the air. A severed eye hit the ground just inches from his feet, split in two. Blood splattered his face, and Daion grimaced.
"Damn… sorry about that, man." The group's leader allowed himself a faint smile and extended a hand. Daion hesitated a moment before accepting it and getting to his feet with ease.
"Well, well… another summoned one," said the woman with a melodic voice. Daion wiped the blood from his face.
"Yeah… just arrived," he replied, still brushing away the last flecks of red.
"Nice," another chimed in—a short, thin guy with a yellowish gauntlet about the same size as Daion's.
The interest didn't last. As soon as the fight ended, the group dispersed, draining the fallen creatures' Omega energy. Every now and then they glanced his way, but none seemed inclined to talk further.
The leader gave him one last look.
"You can keep those two. You made for a decent distraction," he said, sheathing his sword in a black scabbard with gold accents. He had short, light-brown hair and large eyes that studied Daion closely.
Daion crouched beside the remains and placed his hand on them. The absorption began immediately; little by little, he was starting to understand how it all worked.
Once again, a sharp pang shot through his arm. He felt the energy surging through his body, but this time he knew what was coming and handled it better. When it was over, only a few bloodstains remained in the grass. He stood and shook his hands to ease the lingering sting.
That's when he noticed the group whispering among themselves, casting him furtive glances. A familiar unease settled in his chest—an image flashed through his mind: soldiers speaking in the same hushed tone, eyeing him with the same wary suspicion.
"…Uh, hey?" he tried to sound relaxed, though his voice betrayed him a little.
The murmurs stopped instantly. They all stared at him with sharp, assessing eyes. Daion cleared his throat.
"I was just hoping that… I don't know, maybe you could give me a bit of help."
The air grew heavier with tension. Finally, the man who seemed to be the leader sighed, stepped forward, and offered a calm smile.
"Alright, give the new guy a break," he said, raising his hands in a peaceable gesture. Then he turned to Daion and nodded. "Name's Jack. I guess you could say I'm the captain around here."
He pointed to the woman holding a spear.
"And that's Haruka, our deadly beauty."
Haruka had dark brown hair tied in a high ponytail. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes contrasted with her softly rounded face—classic, striking Asian beauty. Pink dominated both her spear and the glove she wore. Her armor covered most of her torso, and a pleated skirt was protected on each side by long metal plates. Unlike the others, her gauntlet was sleek and minimalist, almost decorative.
"Don't let her unfriendly face fool you. She's good company once you get to know her."
Haruka snorted.
"You're a real charmer, Jack."
He ignored her and gestured toward a hooded figure lurking in the shadows. "And the brooding guy over there? That's Minjae."
Minjae had hair as black as coal and Asian features as well, though different from Haruka's. He wore a dark jacket with the hood down, and two gleaming daggers hung at his sides.
"And last but not least…" Jack pointed to the slim blond-haired, blue-eyed boy from before. "This is Finn, our little rookie."
Finn gave him a brief, polite smile—though it was obvious he wasn't too fond of his nickname. Finally, Jack turned toward Daion.
"And you? Got a name?" he asked, motioning with his arms for him to speak.
There was a brief pause.
"I don't know," Daion admitted. The group exchanged cautious looks. Realizing how that sounded, he quickly added, "I mean… I don't remember."
"Amnesia?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes and scratching his head.
Daion nodded.
Jack sighed. "Bit cliché, don't you think?"
Daion forced a smile.
"Yeah, well… I guess you can call me Daion. That's the name the god gave me."
Jack stretched, yawned, and then smirked.
"Well, now that we all know each other, I suppose we can teach you the basics. Us summoned ones need to look out for each other, right? In the end, we've only got ourselves."
"I suppose so."
"Night's falling. Come with us while we explain."
Daion followed as they headed deeper into the forest, keeping close to Jack, who spoke with easy confidence. Jack pulled out a crumpled list and mechanically crossed off a few items.
"Oh, right," Haruka suddenly said.
Daion noticed her watching him with intense curiosity.
"Hey, handsome… who's your patron god?"
Daion blinked, caught off guard. The air shifted instantly. Everyone stopped to look at him, their eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation. He thought carefully before answering, his mind going back to the idiot who had thrown him into this world without a single explanation.
"Definitely the god of idiots," he replied, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice. The group exchanged glances.
"The god of idiots?" Jack repeated, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress a laugh. "You don't even know his name?"
"No. He didn't even bother to tell me why I'm here. Just opened a portal under me, mocked me, and dropped me several kilometers straight to the ground," Daion said through clenched teeth as they resumed walking.
"Sounds like a real gentleman," Finn muttered sarcastically.
"Right?" Daion shot back in the same tone.
Haruka clicked her tongue.
"Then you haven't checked your stats."
"My what?" Daion frowned.
"Tap the center of your gem twice."
With some hesitation, he followed her instructions. The gem in his gauntlet shone brightly, and suddenly, a translucent interface appeared before him. The others leaned in, examining the screen with interest.
[Summoned One's Stats]
• Strength: Level 5 (Human)
• Dexterity: Level 7 (Human)
• Endurance: Level 4 (Human)
• Agility: Level 5 (Human)
• Intelligence: Level 6 (Human)
Jack crossed his arms, studying the display.
"Pretty standard stats. Maybe your god grants skills instead of attributes."
"How do I check that?" he asked, with obvious disbelief.
Jack pointed to a small option beneath the stats: [View Divine Information]
Daion felt stupid for asking. Great. Now I really look like a rookie, he thought. With a sigh, he tapped the option. A new screen appeared:
[Divine Information]
• Patron God: (No Data)
• Rank: Primordial of Gravity
[Effects on the Summoned]
• None
[Divine Artifacts]
• Blade of Punishment (Rank F)
• Omega Gauntlet (Rank F)
[Summoned One's Evaluation]
• Omega Energy Absorbed: 24Ω
• Level: 2
• Rank: Rookie
Silence. Then Jack let out a dry laugh.
"No skills at all?" The rest of the group glanced aside, looking slightly uncomfortable—though Minjae smirked to himself.
"As if that's my fault," Daion shot back, clenching his teeth.
"Nah, of course not. But damn… what kind of luck is that?" Jack said with a crooked grin.
Haruka tilted her head, thoughtful. The group exchanged another round of uneasy glances. Meanwhile, Daion felt a cold emptiness settle in his gut. That damn god hadn't just thrown him into this world without a guide… apparently, he'd done it without giving him a single skill—something everyone else here clearly had.
What the hell did he mean by 'equal conditions'? Daion clenched his fists in frustration.
Jack sighed.
"Well, I guess it makes sense. Your patron god is the Primordial of Gravity," he said, glancing at the stats again.
"And what's that supposed to mean? That he's too weak to give me anything useful?" Daion wanted to believe that—at least it would make some kind of sense. But Haruka shook her head.
"Quite the opposite. He's one of the Eight Primordial Gods of the universe—the most powerful beings that exist. In fact, he's the strongest one currently summoning heroes to this world." Her voice dropped slightly, tinged with unease.
A stab of anger shot through Daion. Bullshit. The strongest? If that were true, why the hell didn't he have any skills? No way someone that idiotic was the strongest of anything.
"But for some reason, the few people he summons never receive blessings," Minjae added. The group shifted uncomfortably again. No one seemed to know what else to say.
Daion honestly didn't know what to think; he was entirely on his own. Jack patted his shoulder.
"Don't stress over it too much. Skills aren't everything." Daion gave him a skeptical look. "Think about it—you're already level 2," Jack pointed out. "That means you leveled up just by absorbing Omega Energy."
Daion glanced back at the screen. He was right.
"The sword… it does feel lighter," he admitted, exhaling, trying to calm down.
"If you make up for the lack of blessings with higher stats and solid combat techniques, you'll be fine," Jack went on.
Daion nodded silently. Jack studied him for a moment before returning to his gear. They kept walking. The darkness was thickening, but somehow, Daion felt oddly comfortable in it… like slipping back into his natural element. In the distance, a faint light grew steadily brighter.
"Why are we here?" he finally asked.
The silence that followed was instant and heavy. Jack and the others stiffened.
"What's going on?" Daion pressed. "Why were we summoned? What are the Corrupted?"
Jack let out a slow breath.
"Your god… really didn't tell you anything."
Before he could say more, a sound from the forest snapped everyone to alert. Leaves rustled violently. The darkness seemed to creep over the landscape.
"For now, let's get back to the city before night fully falls," Haruka said seriously. "Unless you want to end up surrounded by monsters."
The group quickened their pace without hesitation. Daion followed, still frustrated but without any other choice.
Keeping up with them was hell. They moved with absurd agility—sliding between trees, leaping over roots, weaving around obstacles like they were part of the terrain. Compared to them, Daion felt clumsy and slow.
After a while, the group came to a sudden stop, and Daion almost stumbled into them. He looked up… and his breath caught in his throat.
Before them stood a fortified settlement. Towering walls, over fifteen meters high—ridiculously overbuilt for what looked like a mere village.
They approached massive wooden gates. They were low and, at first glance, unguarded… but a chill ran down Daion's spine. They were being watched. From atop the walls, hidden ballistae were trained on them.
Jack turned to him with a grin.
"Welcome to SteelWall."
End of Chapter 4.