There always has to be a prophecy, there has to be some moment in history where the believers can point and say ‘IT WAS FORTOLD.’ There is a prophecy, one that was lost in time, back before history turned to legend and finally to myth. This prophecy was that the heroes would return when needed when the demons came again.
#Warnik’s Perspective
The first sensation Warnik felt was of eye-searing brightness, and then the darkness that followed as the light faded into the shadows of the cave. Illumination was provided by the purple glow of the summoning circle he stood in, and the candles at the points of the star.
⸘⸘⸘ Generating Body … … … Done ⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Linking Soul to Body … … … Complete ⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Applying foreign template … … … Forsaker … … … Finished ⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Converting template to local equivalent … … … Error … … … Exception Caught ... … ⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Applying Linguist Skill to subject … … … Inconclusive … … … Exception … … Aborted ⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Error recovery, warm restart system … … … Attempting to reapply template … … Trespass in system detected … … … cold restart system … … …⸘⸘⸘
⸘⸘⸘ Welcome to the world
⸘⸘⸘ You are stunned for thirty seconds as the closing aspect of the summoning. ⸘⸘⸘
‘What the—’ A glance around showed several robed individuals standing around the circle chanting. Sound was the second sensation that Warnik experienced, the onrush of the unknown language, the silence of the cave, the breathing of the person beside him.
‘That’s OniKaiser… Wait I’m Warnik!’ Realization dawned on him, he had been summoned into his character from Third Shift Delver.
‘That… man has a collar in his hand.’ An instinct he didn’t know he had, and an emotion all too familiar to him, erupted from his core. The overly large ax was pulled from the sling on his back. The business end immediately separated the cultists head from his shoulders.
The pole-ax was a weapon designed to keep enemies at bay, notably riders. In Warnik’s hands, it was just a long-handled ax, with an overly large head to match the breadth and depth of the wielder. The second end of the haft ended in a pointed spike useful for burrowing in the ground, or in this case, the heart of the second cultist.
The primary purpose of the spike found its use, as the newly summoned Mountain Man vaulted over the edge of the summoning circle, the barrier flashing briefly as it collapsed.
‘Muh, nush utal nagou toh!’ Unknown words for Warnik, the meaning clear as they were shouted at a high pitch and the hooded figure turned away and fled.
He was the next to find his limbs on the ground, as the spiked knee guards of the barbarian found a vital spot as he landed from the vault. With the spike ripped from the stone of the floor Warnik searched for the next victim of his.
The cultists were unprepared for the rage of the combatant. Half of them were dead, bleeding out on the stone stage of their tragedy. Another few were dead before the first spells were launched at the warrior as he ducked past an outcropping of the rock ceiling.
Fireballs were snuffed out as they landed on his broad chest, and lightning fizzled. The only thing that seemed to slow the ax was the smoke, and rock barriers. These did not last long, hastily constructed they fell to the axe, hand, and foot as death walked amongst the purple robes.
A score of bodies found their final place on the floor before Warnik was done, he turned back to the summoning circle, the light fading and the half-demon started to move.
“What the fuck is going on?!”
“Oh God!” The warrior let out a quiet gasp and turned green before he wretched in the corner. This and the iron smell of blood set off the man in the summoning circle.
#Levyna’s Perspective
‘Bright,’ was the first thought to filter through her mind as she gained her senses. ‘It’s day, not night. Where’s my desk? Where’s my chair? Where the hell are my walls!?’
As sight returned to her, she realized she was not in Kansas anymore, not that she was from there anymore. “Toto I think we’re in deep shit.”
The landscape was unfamiliar, rolling hills, and untouched plains of grass. Trees giant in their growth and age, sat in weird and unnatural spots. The sky was blue, with cheerful fluffy clouds floating on unfelt wind.
“If I find a house with a door, four windows and a chimney with curly smoke coming from it, this will go very hard on someone.” A turn of her head sent her tresses infront of her eyes.
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“I don’t have hair this long…. And I don’t have blond hair…. And I don’t have boobs like this.” Her hands moved over her chest, across the green cloth of the scooping top she wore. Her wrists, and forearms were covered in bracers, lined with gems. A fire ignited around her wrists causing her to cry out with panic.
After the sharp pain in her buttocks brought her to her senses, she realized the fire did not burn, but swirled in mesmerizing patterns along her wrists. This distracted her before she realized her legs were bare from thigh to boot.
“I must be dreaming. This is Levyna’s outfit and body. But if I’m dreaming why does my butt hurt so much.” She dusted herself off and got to her feet, and caught something out of the corner of her eye.
— Generating Body … … … Done
— Linking Soul to Body … … … Complete
— Applying foreign template … … … Elemental Raider … … … Finished
— Converting template to local equivalent … … Novice of the Elements … … … Achieved
— Applying Linguist Skill to subject … target is now competent in humanoid languages.
— Welcome to the world Levyna. You have been summoned by the world, as a hero of the eighteenth rise of demons. You are a Novice of the Elements level 8.
— Quest assigned: Rescue The Hero of the Eighteenth Rise of Demons.
“Well shit.”
#OniKaiser’s Perspective
After emptying the non-existent contents of his stomach, the half-demon had a look around.
“I repeat, WTF is going on?!”
“Isekai,” The bent over warrior replied though grasped teeth.
“Isekai? You mean we’ve been summoned? Hey, you’re Warnik… I’m O.K! This is great!”
“Great, what do you mean?”
“One second my man.” He looked around, and summoned the text to his eyes, “It’s the left hand…”
“The left hand for what?”
“To bring up the menu my man.”
He looked through the text.
— Applying Linguist Skill to subject … target is now competent in humanoid languages.
— Welcome to the world OniKaiser (please change your name!), you are a summoned Warlock slave of the Cultists of Dregenor, you are level 10.
— You are stunned for thirty seconds as the closing aspect of the summoning.
— You are no longer stunned
— Your party has defeated a Cultist of Dregenor Level 15 – Experience rewards reduced by actions as a party
…
— Your party has defeated a Cultist of Dregenor Level 45 – Experience rewards reduced by actions as a party
— You have gained two levels of warlock, 10 attribute points awarded.
— Having eliminated the bastards who enslaved you, and eliminated the entire cult you have been granted the Freedom Fighter title.
His eye caught his fellow summon flicking his left hand in the air, “You’re joking aren’t you?”
“No seriously, you can call up a menu. This world has a system.”
“What really messed up world is this that has a … system?” A deep rumbling came from deeper down the tunnel.
“I think you angered it.” With a practiced move of his hand, the half-demon summoned a staff.
“A system shouldn’t have feelings!”
“Let’s see what we can find while we’re here.”
“Yes, let’s loot the bodies. After all, that’s the alignment of all adventurers.”
“I thought they were mostly good.”
“No, they’re all homicidal kleptomaniacs.”
“huh?”
“Kill them all, and steal their stuff.”
The two spent some time looking through the bodies, and the remains of the ritual. There was an abundance of purple robes, and some personal effects, and even fewer coins. “I sure hope they haven’t invented plastic,” Warnik commented as he counted the few coins.
“Hey! Look at this, I found something.”
Ducking his head to avoid some more outcroppings of rock the barbarian walked over to the pedestal, “How stereotypical.”
“You definitely have a thing for sarcasm don’t you, Warnik?”
“Of course I do. It’s the part of the passive-aggressive attitude of Canadians.”
“Aren’t you supposed to say sorry for everything and say ‘eh’ all the time?”
The silence was broken by the words, “What did you find?”
“A book.”
“I can see that, but what does it say?”
“Can’t you read it?”
“I’m sorry, I seemed to have failed my Norse Runic examine in college.”
“It’s not runes, it’s Kanji!”
“You could have fooled me. At least you can read it I hope.”
“Yes. This spell here. It’s to summon the demonic spell caster overlord.”
“They got both of us.”
“I can sort of why they picked me. Since I do have a dungeon Third Shift Delver.”
“And you’re very proud of it.”
“Yes… um… yeah… You could say I was an overlord because of it. And I am a half-demon and a spell caster.”
“There’s literally hundreds, or thousands of them though, that game had an average connect of 200 k.”
“We were also together in my core room when this all happened. So maybe they cast a wide net and got both of us.”
“That makes sense.”
“Did I ever tell you that you Forsakers are cheats? Half my traps you just ignore and the beasts don’t see you.”
“Many times. You’d get complacent if we weren’t around, waltzing through your dungeon.”
“It’s just you. I don’t remember seeing any caped Forsakers around.”
The conversation was interrupted by a growl of such low frequency it shook the ground and bones of the two. The sounds were joined by the screeching of claw against stone, the shuffle of feet against dirt, and even the sound of something hard scraping against the ceiling.
“That thing has to be huge. The ceiling has to be eight feet tall.”
“Tell me about it.” The tall barbarian was rubbing his head. The haft of his weapon back in his hands, as he looked into the darkness.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming closer.” The warlock decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He turned and ran down the tunnel in the opposite direction.
“What are you running for? Weren’t you the one who told me the smallest dog barks the loudest?”
Their flight was short, the cultist had set up their ritual near the entrance of the cave, and the two found themselves at the top of a cliff. Their dark adjusted eyes allowed them to stop when they found the edge of the cliff in the starlight of the outside world.
“Where are we?” The intensity of the growl lessened as they left the cave. “There must be a path down there someplace.”
“Heavens Call and Fires Shine, I call forth
Illumination from the staff revealed the cliff and the tracks of the cultists in the soil that covered the ground. The mage pointed with his staff, “I think that’s the way to go. But I think we should find a place to hunker down until we get some more light. I don’t know how long this spell will last.”