A God’s Cruel Joke

Daion moved through the trees, surprised by how quiet everything was. He had expected a forest teeming with monsters, yet so far, he hadn't encountered a single one. Maybe their earlier run-in had just been bad luck… or maybe something else was keeping them away.

Even so, his stomach grew led in protest. It had been hours since he last ate, and the hunger was starting to wear on him. His steps slowed when he spotted a pair of creatures in the underbrush—rabbits, but larger than usual, with rounded ears and thick fur. They nibbled on the grass, completely unbothered by his presence.

He recalled what the hooded man had told him about the efects of the gauntlet in this world.

"I shouldn't have to worry about poison or disease… right?"

Daion watched the rabbits closely. There was something strangely familiar about them, though he couldn't place why.

A sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves, and the sky took on a golden hue. Sunset was approaching, bathing the forest in deep yellows and dark greens. Fortunately, with two suns overhead, he still had some light left.

Tightening his grip on the sword, he moved carefully. His footsteps were calculated, silent. Strangely, the weapon felt lighter in his hands—more natural. Had wielding that sword always been this easy?

The rabbits were now within striking range. Daion raised his blade above his head, ready to strike.

But just as he was about to swing—

CLANG!

A sharp, metallic sound shattered the silence.

The rabbits bolted instantly, vanishing into the undergrowth. Daion reacted instinctively, swinging his sword toward a rabit, but he only hit dirt.

"Tsk." He clicked his tongue in frustration.

His gaze snapped toward the source of the sound. It echoed in short bursts, like steel scraping against steel.

Someone—or something—was fighting nearby.

Daion gripped his sword tighter and moved toward the noise, his pulse quickening.

The sounds of clashing weapons grew louder with each step. He slipped between the trees, keeping to the shadows, until he finally caught sight of the battle.

Four figures were locked in combat, their weapons flashing as they surrounded grotesque creatures—floating, winged eyeballs.

A chill ran down Daion's spine at the sight of them. They hovered erratically, their massive pupils locked onto their prey with eerie intensity. Then, one of them suddenly split open, revealing a grotesque, fanged maw.

Daion's stomach twisted. One of the creatures lunged at a young woman wielding a spear. She reacted swiftly, blocking its attack with practiced ease. Daion immediately noticed something—each of the fighters wore gauntlets similar to his own. Summoned ones.

That realization caught him off guard. He hadn't expected to run into so many at once. Though, thinking back, the hooded man and that so-called god had hinted at this.

His attention shifted to the man leading the group. Without a doubt, he was their commander. His gauntlet was larger, more robust than the others, covering his entire forearm. He wielded a short sword adorned with golden engravings and glowing markings—an elegant weapon that truly looked fit for a hero. Compared to that, Daion's own dull, black blade seemed… insignificant.

"Maybe… mine will look like that after enough energy absorption."

But more than his equipment, what impressed Daion was his skill. The man moved with surgical precision, blocking and countering with seamless efficiency. Despite the short reach of his blade, every strike found its mark.

Daion crept closer, mesmerized by their coordination. While one fighter distracted the monsters, another struck with pinpoint accuracy. Their movements were fluid. Deadly.

Compared to them, Daion felt clumsy. Almost pathetic.

Then a sudden, chilling sensation crept up his spine. Something was watching him. He barely turned his head and found himself staring directly into the massive pupil of one of the creatures.

His skin prickled. It had spotted him. There was no time to react. The eyeball let out a grotesque, silent shriek and lunged at him.

CLACK!

Its fangs clamped down—on his sword. Daion felt a violent pull. He tried to yank his weapon free, but the grip was impossibly strong. The sound of their struggle caught the group's attention, but they were too occupied to help.

"Shit…!"

Daion wrestled with his blade, trying to tear it from the creature's maw. With a sudden, forceful twist, he sent the beast flying backward.

"I'm stronger…"

He felt it coursing through him—the energy he had absorbed earlier was kicking in. But relief lasted only a second. The creature lifted itself again, its pupil narrowing with rage. It dove at him once more, faster than before.

Daion knew he couldn't outrun it. Instead, he used his sword as bait. As expected, the monster latched onto it with its jagged teeth, forcing him back. He lost his footing and tumbled through the trees, rolling into a clearing—right where the other summoned ones were still fighting.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, but he had no time to recover. Without thinking, he grabbed one of the creature's wings and twisted it.

CRUNCH!

A sickening snap rang out as the appendage nearly tore from its body. The beast screeched in agony, but Daion didn't let go. Seizing the moment, he slammed it into the ground with all his strength. The winged eye convulsed, its mouth opening wide in a final, soundless scream. Daion drove his sword straight into its throat.

For a moment, the creature trembled, then fell still. Daion exhaled sharply, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. When he looked up, the other summoned ones were staring at him. Silence.

"…Uh. Hey."

He tried to break the tension, but before he could say anything else—

SHLACK!

A metallic blur sliced through the air. A severed eye landed inches from his feet, split clean in two. Blood splattered across Daion's face, making him grimace in disgust.

"Sorry, buddy."

The leader of the group smirked slightly and offered him a hand. Daion hesitated, then took it, pulling himself to his feet.

"Well, well. Another summoned one."

Daion wiped the blood from his face. "Yeah. Just got here."

"Nice," another fighter chimed in—a short, wiry guy with a yellow-tinted gauntlet similar to Daion's.

Interest in him didn't last long. As soon as the fight ended, the group dispersed, absorbing the Omega energy from the slain creatures. The leader gave Daion a glance.

"You can keep those two. You made for a decent distraction."

Daion crouched beside the remains, placing his hand over them. The absorption began immediately.

Gh…!

Once again, searing pain tore through his body. Like thousands of fiery needles stabbing into his core. But this time, he was ready for it. When it was over, only bloodstained dirt remained. Daion stood, shaking his hands to ease the lingering sting.

That's when he noticed the group whispering among themselves, sneaking glances at him. A familiar, uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.

"…Uh, hi?" he tried.

They instantly fell silent, staring at him with sharp, analyzing eyes. Daion cleared his throat.

"I was just hoping you could, I don't know, give me a few pointers?"

The tension only thickened. Then, finally, the leader sighed and stepped forward with a relaxed smile.

"Alright, cut the new guy some slack."

He turned to Daion and gave a casual nod.

"Name's Jack. I guess I'm the captain around here."

He gestured to the spear-wielding girl.

"And that's Haruka, our deadly beauty."

Haruka had fiery red hair and striking pink eyes that matched the gemstone on her spear. Her armor covered her torso, but a battle skirt left her sides exposed—clearly for mobility. Unlike the others, her gauntlet was sleek and minimalistic, almost decorative.

"Don't let her resting bitch face fool you. She's alright once you get to know her."

Haruka scoffed. "Charmed."

Jack ignored her and pointed to a hooded figure lurking in the shadows.

"The brooding guy over there? That's Minjae."

Minjae wore a dark jacket with the hood pulled low, twin daggers gleaming at his sides.

"And last but not least…" Jack motioned to the wiry kid from before. "That's Finn. Our Little Rookie."

Finn gave a small, knowing smile—clearly used to the nickname. Finally, Jack turned back to Daion.

"And you? Got a name?"

A brief pause.

"I don't know," Daion admitted. The group exchanged wary glances.

Realizing how that sounded, he quickly added, "I mean… I don't remember."

Jack narrowed his eyes.

"Amnesia?"

Daion nodded.

Jack sighed. "A bit cliché, don't you think?"

Daion forced a smile. "Yeah, well… you can call me Daion, I guess."

Jack stretched his arms, then smirked.

"Well, since we're all acquainted, I guess we can show you the ropes. Summoned ones have to look out for each other, right?"

Daion nodded.

"I guess so."

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

The group began gathering their things. Jack pulled out a crumpled list and crossed off a few items with mechanical ease.

"Oh, right," Haruka murmured suddenly.

Daion noticed her staring at him with an intense curiosity, as if she had just remembered something important.

"Hey, pretty boy, who's your patron god?"

Daion blinked, caught off guard. The atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to him, their eyes filled with curiosity and expectation.

He carefully considered his answer. His mind flashed back to the idiot who had dumped him in this world without a single explanation.

"Definitely some asshole."

The group exchanged glances.

"An asshole?" Jack repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You don't know their name?"

"No. He didn't even bother to tell me why I'm here."

"Sounds like a great guy," Finn muttered sarcastically.

"Right?" Daion shot back in the same tone.

Haruka clicked her tongue. "So, you haven't checked your stats yet."

"My what?" Daion frowned.

"Tap the center of your gem twice."

Hesitant, he followed her instructions. The gemstone on his gauntler flared with light, and a translucent interface materialized before him. The others gathered around, peering at the screen with interest.

[Summoned Stats]

• Strength: Level 5 (Human)

• Dexterity: Level 7 (Human)

• Endurance: Level 4 (Human)

• Agility: Level 5 (Human)

• Intelligence: Level 6 (Human)

Jack crossed his arms, studying the display.

"Pretty standard stats. Maybe your god grants abilities instead of attributes."

"How do I check?"

Jack pointed to a small option below the stats:

[Check Divine Information]

Daion felt stupid for asking. It was too obvious.

"Great. Now I really look like a clueless rookie," he thought.

With a sigh, he tapped the option.

A new screen appeared:

[Divine Information]

• Patron God: (No Data)

• Rank: Primordial of Gravity

[Effects on Summoned]

• None

[Divine Artifacts]

• Punishment Blade (Rank F)

• Omega Gauntlet (Rank F)

[Summoned Evaluation]

• Omega Energy Absorbed: 24Ω

• Level: 2

• Rank: Novice

Silence.

Then Jack let out a dry laugh.

"No abilities at all?"

Daion clenched his jaw. "Not my fault."

"Nah, of course not. But damn, what kind of luck is that?" Jack smirked.

Haruka tilted her head, thoughtful. The group exchanged uneasy looks.

Meanwhile, Daion felt a cold emptiness in his stomach. That damn god hadn't just thrown him into this world without guidance—he had done it without giving him a single ability.

What the hell did he mean by 'equal conditions'?

His fists clenched in frustration. Jack sighed.

"Well, I guess that makes sense. Your patron god is the Primordial of Gravity."

"And what does that mean? Is he too weak to grant me something useful?"

Daion wanted to believe that. At least then it would make sense. But Haruka shook her head.

"Quite the opposite. He's one of the Eight Primordial Gods of the universe. Actually, he's the strongest one actively summoning heroes."

A spike of anger shot through Daion. Bullshit. The strongest?

If that was true, then why the hell did he have no abilities?

"But for some reason, the few people he summons never receive blessings," Minjae added.

The group shifted uncomfortably. No one knew what to say. Daion didn't know what to feel. Jack clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry too much. Abilities aren't everything."

Daion gave him a skeptical look.

"If you check, you're already level 2," Jack pointed out. "That means you leveled up just by absorbing Omega energy."

Daion glanced at the screen. He was right.

"The sword does feel lighter..."

He exhaled, trying to calm himself.

"If you make up for the lack of blessings with higher stats and combat techniques, you'll be fine," Jack continued.

Daion nodded silently. Jack studied him for a moment, then turned back to his gear. The group was finishing up when Daion spoke again:

"Why are we here?"

Silence. Instant and heavy. Jack and the others tensed.

"What's going on?" Daion pressed. "Why were we summoned?"

Jack let out a slow breath.

"Your god… really didn't tell you anything."

Before he could say more, a noise from the forest made them all snap to attention. Leaves rustled violently. Darkness crept over the landscape.

"For now, let's get back to the city before nightfall," Haruka said seriously. "Unless you wanna be surrounded by monsters."

The group moved at once. Daion followed, still frustrated, but without a choice.

Keeping up with them was hell. They were absurdly fast, gliding through the forest, leaping over roots, dodging obstacles effortlessly. Daion, in comparison, was sluggish and awkward.

After a while, the group came to an abrupt stop. Daion nearly tripped over himself. When he looked up, his breath caught in his throat.

Before them stood a fortified settlement. Towering walls rose over 15 meters high—far too excessive for what seemed to be just a town.

They approached the massive wooden gates. They were low, seemingly unprotected. But Daion felt a chill crawl down his spine. They were being watched. Hidden crossbows aimed at them from the walls above.

Jack turned to him and grinned.

"Welcome to SteelWall."