The Summoning

[Prologue]

"Noah, do you know what it means to be a god?"

At the demon's words, Noah could hear Evan's hyperventilation worsen. Emma had already passed out on her feet but had instinctively continued to channel mana to Evan's seal that he had made before he collapsed, now rapidly fading away. The demon crouched, bringing his face mere inches away from Noah's own, and his hands that were frantically trying to paddle his body backwards froze.

"It's this"

A snapping of fingers resounded, and the surroundings melted away. What was a malefic castle of black and red turned into a barren wasteland. An illusion had been cast, but Noah's brain didn't quite register the power the demon needed to have been able to cast an illusion on their party, which had a master of illusions. No, he couldn't. His mental faculties had frozen as well.

The demon stared at the paralyzed Noah and sighed with an expression of infinite disappointment.

"In the end, it always comes to this. How endlessly dull.

And you—enough of that. It irritates me."

He sliced the air in a smooth, indifferent motion. Over 20 meters away, Mia's arm fell to the floor.

"Huh? Wh-Wh-Wha-M-My arm! My arm! No no no-"

The demon looked at Evan, whose throat had closed up in fear at this point. His face was pale, and he was desperately in need of oxygen. He was on the verge of death.

"I suppose I'll help you. The four of you may not have qualified, but you might make the next ones entertaining enough to actually begin my game proper, I reckon."

He snapped again, and an incomprehensible creature that radiated a demonic presence far stronger than the heavenly kings they had fought appeared. It was far weaker than the demon that had called for it, but also far stronger than what was supposedly the demon's four strongest retainers.

"These four, to the capital."

A blink later, they appeared in the throne room where they had first appeared.

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"Draven, if you end up being the reason I'm late for the summoning I will personally chop your balls off."

"Look Lirael, you can't blame me for drinking the night before before a legendary ritual!"

"I definitely can. I can also snitch on you to His Majesty when your hangover decreases your mana output and we end up summoning 4 potatoes instead of 4 heroes."

"Okay, lady, my mana output isn't going to sink that low. Maybe the 4 heroes would end up with one or two lesser skills. The last 4 heroes in the summoning a thousand years ago had like 6 or 7 anyway. One or two less won't do that much damage."

The grumbling Draven and the pissed off Lirael happened to be flying across the sky at the speed of sound at the moment, and communicating with a telepathy spell. As 2 of the seven greatest archmages in the nation of Eldoria, King Thorian had invited the two to participate as two of the seven archmages that would summon 4 heroes from another world. Only archmages, with their abundant mana capacity, would be able to summon heroes, and the more mp was used to summon the heroes, the more the heroes would be equipped with, may it be with blessings, an upgraded constitution or most commonly, more skills. Though, the summoned heroes always had abundant mp.

"Hey Lirael, you wouldn't snitch, right?"

Draven murmured, with a slightly nervous expression on his face, as they landed in front of the royal palace without sparing a glance at the royal guards, who let the two esteemed figures in the moment they caught sight of their extravagant robes that gave away their identities. Though archmages would customize their robes, the general structure of their extravagant archmage robes was standardized, and no sane person with the money would dare to impersonate it.

"I think that if I were to receive 10 grand magic stones, I could be so happy I would forget about your little blunder."

Lirael casually spoke about an amount that could feed a commoner family for their whole lives.

"Fuck, woman, you're pricey. 7 stones?"

"Uhhh His Majesty? I have something to-"

"Okay fine, I'll have it delivered."

As Lirael spoke in a slightly louder voice, despite still only walking to the throne room with the King nowhere in sight, Draven caved in. 10 stones weren't all that much, and Draven could make that amount in a few hours if he wanted to.

As the two arrived in front of the throne room, they placed their hands on a crystal orb that the two royal guards outside it were holding, to verify their identity. Even if the archmages were allowed in without verification at the doors of the palace, if they were about to meet the royal family, certain security measures were definitely necessary.

As the crystal orb verified the identity of the two, the royal guards opened the doors to the throne room. The throne room was a tall and long room, with sunlight streaming in through towering windows that stretched from a meter above the base of the wall to a meter below the top of the wall, topped off with a vaulted ceiling. The room exuded majesty, only slightly diminished by the five figures that stood around a circle on the floor in the middle of the room, glaring at the two latecomers.

Of course, the two hurriedly kneeled, not forgetting noble courtesy, ignoring the glares directed towards them. It was formal courtesy to kneel until addressed when in the presence of King Thorian, currently sat on the throne.

The king was adorned in royal red robes, with a presence about him that drew all the eyes in a room he strode into. Beside him, was a person whose cute beauty resembled a doll, Princess Elara, who seemed to be slightly nervous at the moment.

King Thorian only spoke after a full minute of looking down at the late archmages with furrowed brows, enough to cause the archmages to begin to perspire in nervousness.

"You may rise, Archmage Draven and Archmage Lirael. I shall excuse your late coming as preparation to show your peak performance today."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The two said in unison while Lirael subtly shot a frown in Draven's direction, who pretended not to see it. They were, in fact, not in peak condition. The 6th circle - Sonic Flight spell was much more taxing in mana consumption than the simple 3rd circle - Fly spell, and usage of the spell for 6 hours straight had exhausted their mana by around 20%. Also, Draven was hungover. Their performance would probably be barely at the level of an average archmage, unlike the level of a peak archmage that they usually displayed.

Of course, this was information both of them conveniently forgot to mention.

The summoning spell the seven archmages were about to use was ancient, usable only when the mana concentration on the continent rose above a certain level. The mana concentration would rise as the monster population rose, and the summoning would cause mana on the continent to deplete to average levels as the continent's mana was sucked into the void between worlds. Select few with sufficient mana would feel the mana concentration on the continent dipping as the spell was used. In this way, the strongest existences on the continent would be amde immediately aware of the summoning. The ancient spell was also indecipherable to the point of being impossible to copy, much less examine or understand. The ancient magic circle was like a natural counter to rising monster populations, serving as a hope to resist the Demon Lord's impending invasion.

As heroes were sucked in from another world, their bodies that were exposed to the void would be protected from harm by the mana from the archmages, only allowing the void to positively alter their bodies and brains. Generally, as more mana was used, the void would alter the heroes' bodies to a greater extent.

To the informed, what was about to happen with the summoning conducted by what was supposed to be seven peak archmages, but now with five peak archmages and two who were at suboptimal performance, was clear.

As a blinding light shone, 4 heroes appeared.