Chapter-20

The world spun as Roland stumbled through the portal, landing with a rather undignified sprawl on a plush red carpet. He groaned, dusting himself off and wincing as his backside protested the inelegant landing. 

Looking up, he found himself staring at a massive, ornately carved wooden door. It looked more like the entrance to a billionaire's mansion than anything related to a World Dungeon Council. Belial, however, seemed completely at ease, straightening his (admittedly rather flamboyant) demon lord attire with a nonchalant flick of his wrist.

"No need to knock," Belial declared, pushing the door open with a flourish that would make a peacock jealous. Roland followed hesitantly, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight that greeted him.

Gone were the dusty taverns and cobbled streets. Instead, Roland found himself in a vast, circular hall that could have doubled as the set for a particularly epic fantasy movie. The walls were adorned with intricate murals depicting battles between fantastical creatures and impossibly proportioned heroes. A crystal chandelier, the size of a small dragon, cast a dazzling light upon the assembled crowd.

And what a crowd it was! Roland had never seen such a diverse gathering in his life. Humans in gleaming armor mingled with towering orcs brandishing oversized axes. Elves with flowing robes whispered amongst themselves, their pointed ears twitching with curiosity. A pixie, no bigger than his thumb and sporting a surprisingly fierce expression, buzzed around a hulking ogre, seemingly giving him a piece of her mind. There were even a few beastkin – a cat-eared woman with a bored expression and a muscular lizard-man who seemed perpetually on the verge of picking a fight.

In the center of the hall, a circular platform rose a few feet above the ground. Ten ornately carved thrones, each representing a different race or species, formed a semi-circle around it. On the central throne, the one positioned directly opposite the entrance, sat a figure unlike any Roland had ever encountered. 

It was an old man, his face etched with a lifetime of experiences, both good and bad. His beard, long and white as snow, flowed down his chest like a waterfall. But it was his eyes that truly captured Roland's attention. They were a deep, fathomless blue, swirling with an ancient wisdom that seemed to pierce right through him.

Belial, completely ignoring the stunned silence that had fallen over the room, strode confidently towards the platform. He bowed low before the old man, his voice booming through the hall. 

"Greetings, esteemed Chairman! I present to you Roland, the prophesied transcendental being…" Belial trailed off, noticing the bewildered expression on Roland's face. "…or at least, the guy who keeps accidentally setting things on fire with his sword."

Roland's jaw dropped. Prophesied transcendental being? Setting things on fire? This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. But before he could protest, the old man spoke. His voice, surprisingly spry for someone of his age, filled the hall.

"Ah, Roland. Welcome. Please, do come closer." 

Roland, completely bewildered but strangely compelled by the old man's gaze, hesitantly approached the platform. As he drew closer, he noticed a flicker of amusement in the corners of the chairman's eyes. 

"Don't worry, young man," the chairman chuckled, his voice warm and welcoming. "We won't hold your… unorthodox methods of monster slaying against you. Besides," he added, "a little fire can be quite useful in the right circumstances."

Roland felt like a fly caught in a spiderweb – confused, slightly terrified, and strangely intrigued. Belial, ever the opportunist, basked in the stunned silence of the room, preening like a particularly flamboyant crow.

Clearing his throat, the old man cut through the tension. "Welcome, Roland," he repeated, his voice warm despite the weight of his gaze. "I am Mugen Seiryutei, Chairman of the World Dungeon Council."

Roland, with a confident nod, replied, "It's an honor, Chairman… Mugen."

Mugen chuckled, a sound like wind chimes tinkling in a gentle breeze. "The honor is all ours, young Roland. You see, you've arrived at a rather… opportune moment."

Roland scanned the room, taking in the diverse faces staring back at him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. The pixie, in particular, seemed to be contemplating using him as a toothpick, but Roland couldn't help but grin. Here he was, in a room full of legendary heroes and mythical creatures, and they were all looking at him. Maybe being an isekai anomaly wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"Apparently," Mugen continued, leaning forward with an impish twinkle in his eye, "you're not entirely… from this world."

Roland's heart skipped a beat. Was he about to be outed as a complete and utter isekai anomaly? He stammered, "Well, I mean… my body is here, but technically my soul…"

Mugen threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that echoed through the hall. The pixie, startled, buzzed off to find a less-stressful corner to inhabit.

"Don't worry, Transcedental Roland," Mugen said, wiping a tear from his eye. "We've dealt with our fair share of interdimensional oddities over the years. Being from another world, another… Earth is it?"

Roland, relieved that his secret wasn't met with gasps of horror or accusations of witchcraft, managed a sheepish nod.

"No wonder you're such an anomaly," Mugen chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "We have seasoned heroes, powerful sorcerers, and battle-hardened orcs. And then there's you – a walking, talking isekai tourist with a knack for accidental arson. We've summoned heroes many times before, but we've never seen anyone enter our world like this. It's truly an absurd situation."

Roland winced. So much for maintaining a heroic image. Belial, meanwhile, had the audacity to smirk, clearly enjoying Roland's discomfort.

"But fear not," Mugen added, his tone turning serious. "Your… unique perspective might be just what we need."

Roland blinked. "My… perspective? You mean, my knowledge of questionable isekai tropes and the best ways to avoid sentient furniture?"

Mugen's smile widened. "Perhaps. But more importantly, your ability to see the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the… well, let's just say the bureaucracy that tends to plague interdimensional organizations like ours."

Roland stared at Mugen, his mind racing. Was this some kind of elaborate isekai isekai test? Was he being recruited as a hero, a janitor, or perhaps a consultant on isekai best practices?

Before he could voice his confusion, Mugen gestured towards the empty seat beside him. "So, Roland of Earth," he said, his voice ringing through the hall, "would you care to join us? Perhaps you can offer a fresh perspective on the rather… explosive situation we currently face."

Roland looked around the room, at the diverse faces staring back at him with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He took a deep breath, his hand instinctively reaching for Ryujin Jakka, not for a fight, but for a strange sense of comfort.

"Alright," he said, a determined glint in his eye. "Let's hear this explosive situation of yours."