This is where his journey to another world began.

  "Whoosh!"

  "Huh?"

  The ground vanished beneath Silva's feet. Suddenly, he was plummeting downward.

  It wasn't a simple misstep, the stair he had been stepping on disappeared without warning, sending him into a free fall. He instinctively reached out with his left hand, trying to grab the edge of the stair to steady himself, but the missing steps spanned the entire staircase, leaving him nothing to hold onto.

  As he looked up, the fluorescent lights of the school above grew faint and dim. Then, darkness swallowed him whole.

  He kept falling through the pitch black void.

  "Wait, what's happening?" Silva thought, suddenly realizing something was off.

  At some point, he wasn't falling anymore. Instead, he was floating upward.

  "Whoa... Is this a dream? Or a hallucination? Did something happen to me?" Silva muttered, confused.

  His confusion was understandable. Falling could happen—floors could collapse, like in a building accident. But floating defied all logic. Humans couldn't just float in mid air, no matter how much they trained or willed it.

  Silva looked up. Light was pouring down from somewhere above, growing stronger and lifting his body higher. Then, Silva was engulfed in a blinding glow.

  "Where... is this? This place shouldn't exist in my school... right?"

  Silva had expected to find himself somewhere within the school grounds. But as he looked around and saw a vast, temple like space stretching before him, he realized he was somewhere else entirely. That realization struck even harder when he saw the figures waiting for him.

  Five men stood in front of Silva. One was an old man dressed in a white robe, intricately embroidered with gold and silver threads. But it wasn't his attire that stood out the most it was the outfits of the other four.

  They were of similar height and build to Silva, and likely quite strong. From the thickness of their arms and legs, it was clear they were no strangers to physical training. Clad head to toe in metal armor with Corinthian style helmets featuring a distinctive T-shaped nose guard and crest, they held halberds at the ready.

  Silva couldn't tell if the armor was real, but with his experience training with real swords under his grandfather, he could see that the halberds were genuine weapons. That meant the swords at their waists were likely real too.

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  If it had just been armor, Silva might have dismissed it as a costume. Such outfits could be bought in many places in the U.K, though it was rare for people to wear them. But even if he didn't believe this was another world, it was clear that this was far from his normal reality. Each halberd pointed at him was a serious weapon. No one would go to the trouble of getting real halberds as a joke.

  Facing such a situation in England was unimaginable. Even a road men wouldn't carry a halberd, they'd more likely have a knife or a kitchen blade. Moreover, the intent to kill radiating from these men was unmistakable. It was the same feeling he'd sensed during his grandfather's training sessions, a prickling sensation on his skin.

  (Holy crap... This is real... Look at their eyes...)

  Something shifted inside Silva. His perception switched from the ordinary to the extraordinary. This was the moment his normal life was forever disrupted.

...

  "Well, it seems this summoning was successful," the robed man said, glancing at Silva and speaking to the man beside him. The man addressed wore a helmet with a red plume. Judging by its more ornate appearance, he was likely their leader.

  "Not so fast, Lord Gaius. It's still early to tell. Sure, he has a decent build, but that could be deceiving... Remember, out of the hundred we've summoned, only a dozen were any good..." The two scrutinized Silva, evaluating him like a piece of merchandise.

  "Hmm, fair point... Well, either way, we'll see if he's useful once we train him," the older man muttered, nodding toward Silva. Following his signal, three of the soldiers, their halberds pointed at Silva, slowly advanced.

  Silva had no idea what their intentions were. Just moments ago, he was at school, and now he was here, surrounded by armed men. He couldn't comprehend it, but one thing was certain: whatever was coming, it wasn't good.

  Pointing a weapon at someone is a clear sign of hostile intent.

  Silva quickly surveyed his surroundings. There were no windows or exits in sight, the only potential escape route was the heavy iron door behind the elderly man. He had to decide quickly his instincts, honed by his grandfather's teachings, kicked in.

  (To defend oneself...)

  Should he accept a grim fate, or try to eliminate his opponents to escape? Not fully understanding his situation, he knew he needed someone alive to provide answers. This left him with a singular choice: leave the weakest, the old man in the robe alive and take down the other four.

  (I'm unarmed, and they have weapons and armor... Charging in head on would be foolish... I need to catch them off guard, or I'm as good as dead...)

  The decision was ruthless and morally questionable. For a person with modern sensibilities, it was a choice that crossed a line. Yet Silva did not hesitate. He resolved to take the path that offered the best chance of survival, even if it was drenched in blood and fire.

  He calculated his odds, seeking the strategy that maximized his chances in this dire situation. Suppressing his inner turmoil, he took his lunchbox in his hand and tried to offer it to the soldier while he showed bright and harmless smile toward the approaching soldiers.

  For a moment, the soldiers were stunned by Silva's unexpected reaction. They hadn't anticipated a smile from someone they had summoned. It was an unsettling sight like a captive smiling at his captors. The soldiers paused, momentarily thrown off guard. This was precisely what Silva was counting on.

  In an instant, he sprang forward, crouching low, and rushed the man on the far left. His index finger jabbed into the man's left eye, finding the gap between the eyeball and the socket.

  "Aaaahhh!"

  A scream erupted from the soldier, raw and animalistic.