Status

The brief darkness felt like falling into a bottomless pit. There was no sensation of hitting the ground—only a deafening silence before the light returned forcefully, blinding all of us.
I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my vision. The air was thick with the scent of dust, aged stone, and something unfamiliar. The floor beneath my feet was no longer the classroom tiles I knew, but polished, cold marble.
"Wh-where are we?" Yuki’s voice trembled, echoing the question on everyone’s mind.
We were no longer in Classroom 3-A.
But it wasn’t just our class.
It seemed not only Class 3-A had been summoned to this place.
I recognized a few faces from Class 3-B and other classes.
Strangely, though, there were no adults—no teachers or staff.
We stood in the middle of a massive hall, straight out of the fantasy novels I often read.
Its arched ceiling loomed high above, supported by intricately carved stone pillars. Multicolored light streamed through gigantic stained glass windows, depicting epic battles between knights and monsters.
At the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, sat a majestic but empty throne.
Panic began to spread. Some of the girls started to cry.
The loudest ones were the students who usually just followed others without thinking.
Because no matter how many questions you asked your neighbor, they wouldn’t have the answers either, and eventually, someone would step forward and explain the situation.
"What the hell is this?! This has to be a joke, right?!" shouted Tanaka, one of Shinji’s followers. His voice sounded more frightened than angry.
"Everyone calm down!" Nakamura’s voice boomed, trying to take control. "Don’t panic! We need to figure out what’s going on!"
But even the voice of the most respected person was drowned out in the chaos. Shinji glared at me and grabbed my collar again. "You did this, didn’t you?! Tell me how to get back!"
“Is this situation making you even dumber? If I had the power to teleport people, I would’ve sent you straight to hell,” I retorted, shaking off Shinji’s grip.
Next to me, Kenji was trembling violently, his face as pale as paper, but there was a strange smile on his lips. “Ren… this… this is like a novel… Could it be that we’ve been…”
“Summoned,” I whispered, completing his sentence. It felt impossible, but the evidence was all around us—magic circles, light, and now this throne room.
That’s when the double doors at the side of the hall creaked open. Several people in ornate robes stepped in. At their front was an old man with a long white beard and a crystal staff, flanked by a graceful woman wearing a silver tiara and several knights in full armor.
The hall fell completely silent. The aura of authority and dignity they radiated far surpassed any teacher or principal we had ever met.
The old man raised his staff. “Welcome, Heroes from another world,” he said in a calm yet resonant voice. “My name is Jacov, Grand Magus of the Kingdom of Valdenmarch. We are the ones who summoned you here.”
Sasaki stepped forward, her posture straight and full of confidence despite the insane situation. “You summoned us? For what? And more importantly, how do you plan to send us back?”
Jacov gave a faint smile, seemingly impressed by Sasaki’s composure. “A good question, young man. Our world teeters on the brink of destruction. The Demon God has risen, and his army threatens to consume all life, bringing about a calamity known as the Corruption. An ancient prophecy foretold the arrival of heroes from another world who would bring light and victory.”
Honestly, the way he spoke—with skill and authority—made it clear that this was no ordinary man.
“Demon Lord? Prophecy?” Shinji laughed mockingly, trying to mask his fear. “Don’t be ridiculous, old man! Send us back now!”
One of the knights beside Jacov moved a hand to his sword, eyes sharp on Shinji. “Mind your tongue in the presence of the Grand Magus!”
“That’s enough,” Jacov said, calming him down. He looked at us all with a grave expression. “We understand your confusion and fear. But we cannot send you back. The summoning ritual is a one-way spell that drained nearly all the kingdom’s magic. To perform a return spell, we must first prevent the rise and defeat the [Demon God]. That is the only way to restore magical balance in this world.”
That statement was like a bombshell. We couldn’t go back.
The hope in some students’ eyes vanished instantly, replaced by despair. Going home was no longer a choice—it had become a reward to be earned.
I understood that feeling well. The feeling of not being able to return to what you called “home.”
I understood it deeply.
Because I once lost that precious place.
And now, I’d lost it again.
As despair crept into our souls and minds, someone seemed to snap.
“Get out of my way! Let me out of here!”
It was Saruwatari, a big guy with messy red hair, a rugby club member—an idiot who tried to charge past the line of soldiers in full armor.
Naturally, he ended up getting shoved and face-planted onto the floor. Look at him—how pathetic and powerless he was in front of those soldiers. He might rely on brute strength in rugby, but it was useless against trained warriors.
It was like a delinquent trying to fight off professional soldiers alone.
Once attention returned to the front, Jacov resumed his explanation.
“You are all humans summoned from another world. Now, you will each place your hand on the artifact before you and see your status. Then, each of you will be assigned to the country that chooses you. However, not everyone will have special powers. Only the chosen ones will receive them.”
Strange. Despite how absurd this all was, I still felt calm.
Maybe… because I had been hoping for something like this?
I lifted my head and looked at the artifact Jacov had mentioned. It looked like an ancient book inscribed with unfamiliar symbols. Maybe they were runes, like in RPGs or fantasy novels.
But the key point was what he said afterward. Everyone would have their status checked and then be sent to different countries. So, would we be trained separately? I wasn’t sure because Jacov hadn’t gone into detail.
Normally, wouldn’t each country perform its own summoning ritual?
Yet here, they summoned a large group at once and then split them up. Isn’t that a bit odd?
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand any of this.”
That was Nakamura.
He asked the old man because he didn’t grasp what was being explained.
Well, I guess some people really weren’t familiar with the whole isekai concept.
So the man started explaining everything in a way even an idiot could follow. Though, some people still didn’t get it and just screamed like monkeys.
The conclusion I gathered was that ten countries had jointly performed this summoning.
And just like in fantasy stories, we were summoned to stop the full resurrection of the [Demon God], defeat various [Demon Lords], and eliminate the [Disasters] plaguing this world.
But since there wasn’t just one [Demon Lord], the summoned would be dispatched across different nations.
The hall became noisy again after this statement, but order was quickly restored under the intimidation of the armored soldiers.
Each country had the right to claim at least ten summoned individuals, though the number could vary depending on the results of the status assessments.
If this followed typical clichés, someone with a special status would emerge and surprise everyone.
But the question was—who would it be? It certainly wouldn’t be me. I wasn’t the chosen one.
Maybe someone like Nakamura… or in the worst-case scenario, Shinji would be the chosen one.
Yeah, stories like that happen a lot—someone undeserving ends up with the greatest power.
Still, it’d be a lie to say I didn’t want that role.
To be honest, I wanted it too.
At the very least, I hoped I’d get a combat-capable “Class,” even a common one like [Knight] or something. I always thought sword-wielding classes looked cool.
But what if I became a [Demon Lord]? Haha… I guess that’d be an interesting twist too.
Then, the status assessments began.

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We were taken to another room. On the second floor, there were at least ten individuals of various ages and genders.
I didn’t know who they were, but it was clear they were important. Maybe sponsors, representatives, or even rulers of the different countries.
On the other hand, half of us had already been assessed. So far, the ratio of those with statuses to those without was 90:10. Judging by the looks on the people’s faces on the second floor, they seemed quite satisfied with the results.
About 70 percent had gone through, and finally, it was my turn. I was really curious about my class.
Would it be rare or worthless? Let’s find out.
Just as explained earlier, I placed my right hand on the ancient book. It began to glow, and then a screen appeared—one that completely shocked me.
Was it rare? Maybe. I could clearly see the stunned look on Jacov’s face in front of me. But this was far from what I had hoped. I wasn’t a Hero or a Demon Lord.
A screen floated before my face, with just one word on it: [Nothing].