THE DAY OF SUMMONING
The capital of the Seraphis Empire was restless that night.
Even the air felt heavy, laced with anticipation and faint traces of mana.
Inside the royal palace, guards stood at every corner — armored in silver and gold, their eyes sharp. The hallways that were once filled with nobles and laughter were now occupied by battle-hardened knights, archmages, and clergy. The Empire's most powerful forces had gathered here — not for war, but for something far greater.
At the far end of the grand hall, where golden chandeliers flickered above a massive magic circle engraved into the marble floor, the ritual was about to begin.
Among the quiet crowd of servants and attendants, three maids stood in a line — silver trays in their hands, their posture perfect.
They were Lena, Maya, and Sharon — the demon infiltrators sent by Queen Selphira.
None of them spoke.
They didn't need to. The tension in the air said everything.
Maya's eyes flicked across the room, carefully observing. "Too many high-ranking officers," she whispered under her breath, lips barely moving. "I count… five grandmasters, three archmages, and the Imperial Bishop himself."
"Six grandmasters," Lena corrected quietly, her gaze sharp as she spotted another man entering through the golden gate — a massive figure clad in dark-blue armor, the Empire's legendary Knight Commander Ardent.
Sharon's voice was calm but firm. "Then we don't interfere. One wrong move, and we'll be turned to ash before we reach the circle."
Their hands trembled slightly as waves of pure mana began to rise from the massive glyph at the center of the hall. The floor glowed brighter with each passing second, the pattern pulsing like a living heart.
Archmage Varel, an old man with a beard that shimmered faintly with starlight, raised his staff. "Begin the invocation!"
The gathered mages chanted in unison, their voices echoing through the chamber like a storm. The air vibrated. The chandeliers rattled. The marble cracked beneath the pressure of the energy forming above the circle.
Lena squinted, using her demonic senses for just a moment — her vision piercing through the blinding light. "That's not just a gate," she muttered. "They're forcing the link open without stabilizing it. They're reckless."
"Humans always are," Sharon replied. "But it's working."
A flash of blinding white engulfed the hall. Everyone shielded their eyes.
When the light finally faded, the massive magic circle flickered weakly — smoke and dust swirling through the air. In the center stood several figures — the summoned ones.
They looked disoriented, confused — a group of young men and women dressed in unfamiliar clothing, clearly not from this world.
Gasps spread across the chamber. Some knights drew their swords instinctively. The Archmage raised his staff again, sealing the circle with a stabilization rune.
"They're here," whispered Maya, her voice almost trembling. "The otherworlders."
Sharon lowered her gaze quickly as a high-ranking noble passed nearby, pretending to pour wine into a goblet. "Keep your head down," she muttered under her breath.
They could do nothing — not when surrounded by this many powerhouses.
Even their queen wouldn't risk such a suicidal move.
So they watched.
Watched as the humans were examined, their potential measured. Watched as priests cast appraisal spells on them, murmuring words like "Hero," "Sage," "Knight," and "Saintess."
Each title made the tension in the room rise higher.
Lena clenched her fist behind the tray. "We let them live… and they'll be used against us soon enough."
"Then what are we supposed to do? I can't even breathe properly due to the domineering aur emitting from all these people. Doing anything is practically committing suicide." Maya spoke.
"It's better to die than returning as losers. How will we face the demon queen after failing on the mission she entrusted us." Lena spoke
Sharon's expression was unreadable. "Then we take one for ourselves."
Maya turned to her, startled. "What?"
"Not now," Sharon said softly, her eyes still fixed on the group in the circle. "But later. When the palace lowers its guard. One of them… we'll make him ours."
Her lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile — the kind that could only belong to a demon.
"We can't stop the ritual," she whispered. "But we can twist its results."
The three maids exchanged brief glances — a silent pact formed in that moment.
As the cheers of humans echoed through the grand hall, they quietly turned away, retreating toward the servant's corridor with their trays still in hand.
Behind them, the summoned ones were being escorted to their quarters — their fates sealed, though none yet realized it.
The demons walked silently through the golden-lit halls.
For now, they would serve.
Watch.
Wait.
*****
The moon hung high above the palace, bathing the courtyards in pale silver light. The training grounds, which usually echoed with shouts and clashing steel, were silent now. Only the faint sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves disturbed the stillness.
Inside his room Ray was self-mocking himself while he stared at his status window.
He sighed softly.
"Still no progress on that upgrade condition…" he muttered.
His body had changed slightly after a week of training — his muscles firmer, his stamina better — but compared to others, his growth felt… small. The difference between classes was painfully obvious.
"I can't even use mana properly… and everyone else is already learning advanced techniques."
He rolled to the side, pulling the thin blanket over himself. His eyelids were heavy from exhaustion, but sleep didn't come easily. His thoughts kept circling back to the arrow symbol beside his class — the upgrade mark that no one else seemed to have.
He didn't notice when his vision blurred, drifting between wakefulness and sleep.
That's when a faint sound came from his window.
A soft click.
The latch shifted.
Ray's eyes twitched, but his half-asleep mind brushed it off as wind. Then — another click. The sound of something metallic sliding open.
By the time his instincts kicked in, it was too late.
A shadow slipped through the window, moving with fluid precision. A faint, sweet scent spread through the air — something floral yet dizzying. His head felt light almost instantly.
"What—"
A soft hand covered his mouth before he could finish. A pair of sharp, predatory eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.
"Shh… don't struggle," whispered a woman's voice — calm, alluring, and cold.
Ray's vision blurred as she pressed something against his neck. A sting — then warmth spreading through his veins. His body went limp.
The last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was the faint outline of three women — one by the window, one near the door, and one standing over him.
Their maid uniforms fluttered slightly from the night breeze, but something was wrong. Their shadows — long and horned — stretched unnaturally against the walls.
"Got him," whispered the one near his bed — Sharon. "No alarms triggered."
Maya checked the window, peering out toward the distant towers. "Guards are still in position. They haven't noticed."
Lena approached the bed, glancing down at Ray's unconscious face. "He looks weaker than I thought."
"That's fine," Sharon replied. "He's not needed for fighting. We only need his mind… his eyes."
Maya frowned. "Let's just move. The longer we stay, the riskier it gets."
They moved swiftly — lifting Ray between them as if he weighed nothing. Sharon murmured a faint incantation, her demonic mana flaring briefly before vanishing. The air shimmered for a moment, cloaking them in an illusionary veil.
No one saw them slip through the hallway. No guards turned their heads. Even the detection wards around the palace failed to register them.
They disappeared into the night.
By the time the moon began to dip below the horizon, Ray Walker — the "useless guy" — was gone from the palace.
And no one would realize it until morning.