“The ritual is ready, Your Highness,” High Mage Henrikson announced.

  “Begin.”

  Cinna stood back as Henrikson and the other five mages present began to chant. It had taken a full two months to reach this point, so she had no intention of delaying the summoning by even a minute more.

  When Cinna agreed to Archmage Alfvin’s proposal, he had immediately gathered six mages trained in summoning and instructed them to summon a Hero. It should have been finished by the end of the day. But when the summoning team attempted the summoning ritual, nothing happened.

  At first, Cinna had assumed that this was a punishment issued by the gods. That they had cut Ennos off from other worlds and left its inhabitants to fend for themselves. Archmage Alfvin, however, believed there were flaws in that theory. He attempted a high-level spell from an entirely different school as a test, and soon discovered that that, too, fizzled out.

  As Alfvin had explained it, the problem wasn’t that the gods had sealed off summoning magic. Instead, they had revoked the assistance they once provided to mages. Spellcasting required precise pronunciation and intonation both, and it could only be done using the language of the gods. But no one on the planet spoke that tongue natively. While the gods had gifted mortals with the written words, they had never taught them how to pronounce those words.

  After extensive trial and error, early mages believed that had figured it out. In reality, it seemed the gods had simply decided their efforts were close enough and helped them across the finish line. It had taken every mage in Selkarc nearly two months to puzzle out the right way to speak this one single spell.

  In the center of the ritual circle, a form began to take shape, drawing Cinna’s attention. Initially she saw only a faint outline, but it became clearer as the seconds passed. On the floor below the ritual circle began to glow, becoming ever brighter as the summoning progressed. A breeze touched Cinna’s skin; the being taking shape in the circle had begun to displace the air it overlapped with.

  Soon Cinna determined the Hero to be humanoid—that wasn’t a given with this ritual. Armor faded into existence, which Cinna assumed to mean the Hero would be a warrior. A sword hung at the Hero’s waist which Cinna identified as a claymore. Just as the armor took on a blue hue, the light suffusing the room grew so blinding that Cinna had to cover her eyes.

  Then, the light disappeared. Simultaneously Cinna heard the sounds of six bodies hitting the floor. Her eyes snapped open in alarm and she all but forgot about the Hero as she rushed to the high mage’s side.

  “Check for signs of life!” Cinna barked automatically, not even considering her audience. She flipped High Mage Henrikson over and felt for a pulse, then checked for whether he still breathed when that failed. Nothing. Cinna hurried to the next mage in the circle, faintly aware of the Hero mirroring her actions on the other side.

  But two mages later, Cinna was forced to acknowledge the reality. All six mages were dead.

  “…I have two questions,” the Hero asked coldly. He stood from a crouch and loomed over Cinna. “First, what were their names?”

  “Ruuben, Helge, Sanna, Oliver, Elina, and Annica,” Cinna recited softly, staring down at Sanna’s prone form. “All accomplished mages in their own right. I will ensure their families are well taken care of.”

  “Your concern answers my second question, but I will ask anyway. You did not expect this result?”

  “No. Selkarc has not summoned a Hero in generations, our records made no mention of a blood price. The Clovician Empire summoned one just a handful of years ago, as well, but to my knowledge no one died in the process,” Cinna explained. “But…we should not continue this conversation here. I will take you somewhere more comfortable and task someone with making arrangements for these brave mages.”

  Cinna led the Hero to a sitting room, stopping only briefly to send someone to the ritual room. She waited until a castle servant brought a tray of tea and snacks before continuing.

  “Thank you, Inge. Now, how much do you know of our situation?”

  “I spoke briefly with the man that summoned me. He informed me that undead are ravaging the continent and that your gods have vanished,” the Hero replied. He plucked a puffy pastry from the tray and popped it into his mouth.

  “So you already know about the gods. I suspect what happened here is another consequence of their absence. One of them must have been supporting the summonings of the past.” Cinna crossed her arms and sighed. She should have anticipated that a ritual requiring so much mana that it took six to conduct it might have involved divine intervention. Even if she wasn’t a mage herself.

  “I see. I never knew gods contributed to these summonings. It would explain why I feel no stronger than in my last life,” the Hero revealed. He opened and closed one hand as if testing his grip strength, using his other hand to take a sip of tea.

  “What? You mean to say you are no stronger than a normal person?” Cinna asked, horrified. The entire point of summoning a Hero lay in acquiring an individual stronger enough to rival armies as a last resort in order to save the world from a major crisis. If this Hero lacked that power, Cinna’s only result here would be in consigning this man to dying along with the rest of them.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Not quite. Tell me, do you know how Heroes originate?” Cinna shook her head slowly, unsure what he meant. “Occasionally a person with immense potential is born. Some use their powers for self-enrichment. On my world we called them Demon Lords. But there is no fundamental difference between Demon Lords and Heroes. I used my power to oppose one such tyrant and the people lauded me as a hero. When I died, one of our gods, Lithaeous, informed me I had earned the right to answer the summons of other worlds in need in exchange for another chance at life.”

  “But you expected to be stronger. Have you been summoned before?” Cinna asked, feeling somewhat relieved. His explanation made sense. There had been multiple such people in the history of Ennos, but they had merely been remembered as once in a century talents. Had they, too, been offered a second life?

  “Twice. Each time I received an ability unique to that world. I always assumed that to be a natural result of being brought into a new world with different rules. I never suspected it could have been a blessing of the gods,” the Hero admitted. Then his eyes widened. “Ah! I just realized that I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Leo. Leo of Corierri.”

  “My apologies as well. I am Princess Regent Cinna Selkarc. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Cinna returned with a half-bow. It wasn’t quite proper etiquette, but they were both seated and Leo wouldn’t know about the local customs anyway.

  “The regent herself? You honor me. I suppose you would like to know of my capabilities? Well—”

  “Excuse me, Your Highness,” a soldier interrupted from outside the door. “Your uncle is requesting your presence in the war room.”

  “Inform him I am on my way,” Cinna answered. She turned back to Leo. “Pardon me, but I must go. Take some time to rest. I will have someone escort you to the quarters we have set aside for visiting royalty.”

  “The offer is appreciated, but I have had enough rest while dead. Would you mind if I accompanied you? It would eliminate the need to apprise me of the situation later on,” Leo requested, standing up.

  “I see. Very well; follow me.”

  Cinna led the way from the sitting room in the royal mages’ section of the castle to the war room in the barracks. She took a route straight through the courtyard this time. Over the months the various nobles harassing her over petty concerns her father had already dismissed had been forced to return to their fiefs, so no one interrupted her on the way. As a result, she arrived at her destination quickly and entered without much fanfare. Inside the war room she found her uncle and Alfvin along with Selkarc’s other two generals, Merethe and Valto.

  “I heard what happened. Do not blame yourself, Your Highness. It is I that should have predicted what would happen to Ruben and the others,” Alfvin assured Cinna. She nodded in response, but his condolences wouldn’t bring back the dead. In her mind it would be best to address matters she could do something about.

  “As you all might have guess, this is the summoned Hero, Leo of Corierri. He has informed me of some flaws in his summoning, but we can discuss that later. What did you need, uncle?” Cinna asked, moving straight to the point.

  “We just received word from Dvergafjall Castle. The garrison destroyed three undead approaching from the Geirarj?tnas,” Valto informed her. He was a man of shorter stature than Tryggve and far thinner as well—in face and build both. As usual, he wore the uniform of a Selkarcian general. Valto kept his brown hair trimmed short, which might have given him a clean and proper look if not for the numerous piercings across his face and ears. They were common among the rank-and-file from which Valto rose.

  “Just three? No, three is strange enough on its own. How did they make it through the Clovician Empire?” Cinna wondered aloud, looking down at the map painted directly onto the war room table.

  “Path of least resistance,” Merethe answered simply. Unlike her counterpart, Merethe began as a knight. She happened to be the second child of the Akerman family and had chosen service over a political marriage—as she liked to joke, she hadn’t had the face for it anyway. Much like Valto, she wore a general’s uniform, but she’d had her tailored specifically so that it would strain against the bulging muscles underneath. Merethe was quite proud of them.

  “Path of…ah, I see now,” Cinna said, tracing a finger across the map. “Most of the nations we’ve lost contact with lay along the border of Barkolt’s Wastelands. But the Empire in particular butts up against the Geirarj?tnas. Once the undead horde overran the border wall, there were no further impediments between them and the mountains.”

  “Exactly,” Tryggve confirmed. “Unlike most of the other nations Clovicians have the manpower to man both the walls and the defenses inside their territory at once. But not even they could defeat an endless horde of undead in the field. They must have holed up inside the castles and fortified cities and surrendered the countryside to the undead.”

  “Which means that even if they haven’t fallen, the undead can still reach us. I expected the Skyfolk to intervene if the undead entered the Geirarj?tnas. Is it safe to assume they did not?”

  “Not a chance,” Valto replied harshly. “Unless something attacks their mountaintop citadels directly, they don’t care what happens to us down here.”

  “Myopic fools. Don’t they see they’ll be next?” Merethe asked the air, following it up with several curses.

  “So, this Dvergafjall Castle is to be the frontline?” Leo asked, finally breaking his silence.

  “In theory,” Alfvin answered. “Currently we are working to reinforce the defenses there and extend a wall front coast to coast. It is slow going. We’re still trying to recover many of the spells that make such work easier.”

  “We’re out of time,” Cinna decided. “Valto. I want you to take a company of engineers and muster of the soldiers of every noble from Delfinenshvile to Fotby. Take half of the royal knights as well. Erect barricades where the walls have yet to be built and prevent the undead was entering Selkarc at all costs.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Merethe, we need more soldiers. I intend to expand our recruiting even further. I’m tasking you with coordinating the training and arming of the new regiments.”

  “General,” Merethe acknowledged, bring her palm to her shoulder so hard that there was an audible thump.

  “Alfvin, assign every mage available to recovering the earth magic we need. Train specialists of other disciplines in earth magic if you have to. Get that wall finished.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” Alfvin replied with a respectful nod.

  “Uncle Tryggve…I’d like you to stay behind with me for a moment. I have a task for you that I would like to be handled discreetly.”

  “Whatever you need, Cinna,” Tryggve said with a smile.

  “Should I accompany…Valto, was it?” Leo asked as Valto, Merethe, and Alfvin filed out of the room one by one to carry out their missions.

  “In due time. First, there’s a matter I’d like you to investigate. No one else has been able to find the culprit, so it may be time to send a Hero.”