Chapter 267: The void between

Some palace servants were gossiping again.

Nathan caught fragments of their conversation as he walked through the market district. Two women in plain grey dresses, their arms laden with baskets of vegetables, their voices low but not low enough.

"—heard the king himself ordered it—"

"—a second summoning? But the ritual took months to prepare—"

"—Archmage Seraphina protested, but you know how His Majesty is—"

Nathan stopped walking. He pretended to examine a merchant’s stall, a display of cheap jewelry and copper trinkets, but his ears were fixed on the conversation behind him.

"—the archmage said it was too soon. That the barrier hasn’t healed. But the king wouldn’t listen. He wants another hero. Says one isn’t enough to defeat the Demon King—"

"—so they’re preparing the ritual again? When?"

"—within the month, I heard. The archmage is gathering the materials. But she’s not happy about it. Says if they’re not careful, something terrible will happen—"

The servants moved on, their voices fading into the crowd.

Nathan stayed where he was, his mind racing.

A second summoning. The king was ordering a second summoning. And the archmage was against it.

Why?

He needed answers. And he knew where to find them.

---

The royal archives were housed in a separate building near the palace, a massive structure of grey stone and iron. Guards patrolled the perimeter, and magical wards shimmered faintly in the air—detection spells, alarm spells, barriers that would trigger at the slightest disturbance.

Nathan waited until nightfall.

He stood in the shadows of a nearby alley, watching the guards complete their rounds. They were professional, disciplined, but predictable. Every hour, they changed shifts. Every hour, there was a five-minute window when the eastern entrance was unguarded.

He waited for that window.

When it came, he activated [Invisibility] and [Silent Step] . The world didn’t change—he was still visible to himself—but he knew the skills were working. The guards didn’t look at him. Their eyes slid past him as if he were part of the shadows.

He crossed the courtyard, slipped through the eastern door, and entered the archives.

---

The interior was dark, lit only by the faint glow of preservation runes. Shelves stretched in every direction, filled with books, scrolls, and crystalline data shards. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by Nathan’s silent footsteps.

He moved through the aisles, scanning the titles. History. Geography. Magical theory. Royal lineage. Nothing about the summoning ritual.

Then he found it. A section marked with the royal seal—a crowned lion. The shelves here were older, the books more weathered. He pulled one down: A Complete History of Hero Summonings.

He sat on the floor and opened it.

The book was dense, filled with diagrams and annotations. But the relevant passages were clear.

The first recorded summoning occurred three hundred years ago, during the reign of King Aldric II. A hero was called from another world to combat a great threat—the Demon King of that era. The hero succeeded in defeating the Demon King but died within the year. Cause of death: unknown.

Nathan flipped the page.

The second summoning occurred one hundred years later, during the reign of King Aldric IV. Another hero was called. This hero also succeeded but went mad within months of the victory. He was executed for treason after attempting to assassinate the king.

Another page.

The third summoning occurred one hundred years after that, during the reign of King Aldric VI. The hero disappeared within weeks of arriving. No trace was ever found.

Nathan stared at the words.

Three heroes. Three summonings. None returned home. One died. One went mad. One vanished.

And now the king wanted a fourth.

He kept reading, searching for more. And then he found a footnote, tucked at the bottom of a page, written in a different hand:

The dimensional instability caused by the ritual is cumulative. Each summoning weakens the barrier between worlds. If the barrier is breached entirely, entities from the Void Between may enter. This is why a minimum of one hundred years must pass between each summoning, allowing the World to heal from the dimensional instability. Ignoring this rule invites catastrophe.

Nathan’s blood ran cold.

The Void Between. That was where he had been trapped. The endless darkness. The empty expanse. The place where the fifth cocoon had formed.

The summoning that brought Kenji here—it hadn’t just pulled a hero from another world. It had pulled Nathan, too. The threads were connected.

And now the king wanted to do it again. Within the month. Without waiting the full century.

If the barrier broke entirely, entities from the Void would pour into this world. Creatures like the Demonic Beast—but worse. Much worse.

Nathan closed the book.

He needed to stop the second summoning. But how? He was an F-Rank archer. A nobody. He had no influence, no allies in the palace, no way to reach the king.

But he had five days until the tournament. Five days to find a way.

He slipped out of the archives and vanished into the night.

---

Across the city, in a grand inn near the palace, Aeliana, the Elven princess, sat in her private room.

The scholar Elf, Faen, spread a series of crystalline shards across the table. Each one glowed faintly with residual mana, captured from the site of the summoning ritual.

"The readings are conclusive," Faen said, his voice tight. "The dimensional rift isn’t just a hole. It’s a wound. And it’s bleeding."

Aeliana leaned forward. "How bad?"

"Small creatures are slipping through. Insignificant ones—barely detectable. But the rate is increasing. If the wound isn’t healed, larger entities will follow. Eventually, something catastrophic."

The warrior elf, his name was Thorne, he slammed his fist on the table. "Then we seal it. We have the magic. We have the knowledge."

"It’s not that simple," Faen said. "The rift is anchored to this world’s ley lines. Sealing it would require—"

"Require what?"

"Require the cooperation of the kingdom that created it. We can’t fix this alone."

Thorne growled. "Then we make them cooperate."

Aeliana held up a hand. "Enough."

The two male elves fell silent.

Aeliana stood and walked to the window. The city stretched below, its lights flickering in the darkness. Somewhere in that city was a boy—a hero—who had no idea what his arrival had cost.

"I will approach the First Prince," she said.

Thorne spun. "The prince? You can’t be serious."

"He’s the only royal who might listen. The king is blinded by greed. The princess is a manipulator. But the First Prince... he’s different. I’ve heard the rumors. He’s smart. Quiet. He doesn’t play political games."

"And if he refuses to help?"

Aeliana turned. Her eyes were hard. "Then we do what we must."

Faen nodded slowly. "I’ll prepare the evidence. If we can show him the readings, the proof of the rift, he might—"

"He will," Aeliana said. "He has to."

---

In the royal palace, Kenji sat alone in his room.

He stared at his status panel, frustration burning in his chest.

[Status Panel]

Name: Kenji Tanaka

Class: Hero

Level: 1

[Sword Mastery Lv.1]

[Hero’s Charisma Lv.1]

[Divine Protection Lv.1]

He had been training for days. Hours of drills. Endless repetitions. His arms ached. His legs burned. And yet his skills hadn’t moved. Not a single level.

Why? he thought. Why am I not getting stronger?

In the manga he used to read, heroes leveled up by defeating monsters. They grew stronger through combat. But the royal family wouldn’t let him leave the palace. They said it was too dangerous. They said he needed more training first.

But training wasn’t working. He was stuck.

A knock at the door.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened, and Amelia stepped inside. She was carrying a tray—dinner, by the smell of it. Roasted meat, fresh bread, a glass of wine.

"You missed dinner," she said, her voice soft. "I thought you might be hungry."

Kenji’s frustration melted away. She was so kind. So caring. She was the only one who seemed to understand him.

"Thank you," he said.

She set the tray on the table and sat beside him. Her hand brushed against his, and he felt his face flush.

"You’ve been working hard," she said. "I’ve been watching you."

"I’m not getting stronger," he admitted. "I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be the hero. But my skills aren’t improving."

Amelia’s expression softened. "It’s not your fault. The First Prince... he’s been spreading rumors. Telling the court that you’re a fraud. That you weren’t truly summoned."

Kenji’s blood ran cold. "What?"

"He’s jealous," Amelia said. "He sees your power and wants it for himself. He wants to steal the hero’s title. To claim the glory that belongs to you."

"That’s... that’s insane."

"I know." Amelia squeezed his hand. "But don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll protect you."

Kenji looked into her eyes. She was so beautiful. So kind. She believed in him.

He believed her.