The Summoned One

The sky split open.

The world around them was no longer what they had known. It seemed as though reality itself had torn apart. From the massive crack in the clouds, a blood-red light surged, and within it, a storm of shadows churned. Unintelligible whispers, voices that seemed to come from nightmares, echoed in the air.

"This…?"

One of the knights whispered, but his answer was only silence, accompanied by the rapid heartbeat of everyone present.

Elise, still holding the Black Sacred Book with trembling hands, didn't even dare to breathe.

What… was it that they had summoned?

Lunaryl's legs weakened. She had been unaware of the truth. She hadn't known what Elise was doing from the start, but now, she couldn't even speak.

And then, he appeared.

The king who had brought death to its knees.

A creature clad in black, ominous armor, its purple cloak swirling in the night wind, and a crown of bone shining atop its emotionless skull. Its eyes burned like the fires of hell, and an indescribable power radiated around it.

(Image of him)

Silence.

No one dared to move.

Even the one who stood at the center of this chaos, breathless.

'What…?'

His mind was engulfed in confusion.

'I… was sleeping. Just a moment ago… I was resting. So why…?!'

His eyes (if he could still call them eyes) fixed on his hands.

Bone. Just bone.

No flesh, no skin, not even a sense of existence.

"Wait… these hands… this armor…"

Suddenly, he realized.

This body… wasn't his own. Damn it, this body was an undead.

How had this happened to him? Just moments ago, he had been in his room. Where was this place? Who were these people? And why were they dressed like this?

High Priest Rogar didn't move for a moment. Then, he pressed his hands firmly against his golden staff. His heart beat harder than ever.

"Again… it happened again…" Fear shone in his eyes.

He had hoped that, like three hundred years ago, a human would appear—a divine hero.

But this being was anything but human.

"Just like 600 years ago…"

His mouth barely opened. Yet, his tone remained calm, composed, and unsettling.

"All forces, prepare for battle." He couldn't allow such a monster to live, lest a catastrophe like the one from six hundred years ago happened again.

The knights, who had been frozen in terror, suddenly came to their senses. They raised their swords, but there was still a faint tremor in their hands.

One of them, his voice trembling with fear, said, "Your Excellency… should we really…?"

Rogar, without taking his eyes off the creature in front of him, whispered, "Whatever it is, it must not survive."

Then, he called out more loudly, "Attack!"

He was still in shock.

But when the first knight attacked him, his body reacted on its own.

A sword made of light came down upon his armor—and then, stopped right there. No scratches, no marks, nothing. No… the sword didn't even touch him, halting just a centimeter away.

His eyes widened in surprise.

"Nothing happened?!"

The knights attacked one after another. Magic swords, holy spears, storms of light—none of them had any effect. Their attacks didn't even reach him.

His breath caught in his chest.

"Am I dreaming? This… isn't real… right?"

But it was real.

And then, suddenly, something happened.

His hand reached out toward one of the knights. An unknown instinct, a movement as if he had done it a thousand times before, surged within him. And then—

"Absolute decay."

A wave of darkness erupted from his palm. In the blink of an eye, the knight standing directly in front of him withered away. His armor shattered, his eyes bulged out of their sockets, and finally, only the rotting bones remained.

A deadly silence filled the air.

But amidst that silence, Rogar smiled.

"Just as I expected… truly worthy of the title of a demon god."

His eyes gleamed with an unnatural light.

"But you must not forget… against the light, darkness will always be destroyed."

He raised his hand, and in it, a shining crystal appeared. He squeezed it and turned it to ash.

Suddenly, holy light split the sky.

And from it, massive beings of light emerged—angels with wings like beams of the sun, wielding swords forged from the purest magic.

Lunaryl and Elise gasped in awe.

Were they… angels?

They had always heard of them in stories. Beings who came from the gods, pure, powerful, unstoppable. But here, now, they stood before them, more real than anything they had ever imagined.

"Th-These… are they real?" Lunaryl whispered.

But amidst it all, the King of the Dead… let out a laugh.

"So these… are just the mid-tier angels?"

Out of all the beings he knew from the game, these were among the weakest.

Now, he was almost certain. Based on his current body and the skill he instinctively used, he could tell:

This body was his avatar's in the game… he didn't know why or how.

But one thing he was sure of:

These angels weren't even worthy of being a training opponent.

In essence, they are nothing more than a few low-level beings to him. These angels even had a more decorative role in the game rather than being used for attacks, especially major attacks among the top guilds.

The angels, in rage, gathered holy power around their swords.

Pure light erupted from their blades and charged toward him.

Then, he raised a finger.

"Nightfall."

The space around him darkened. The holy light, before it could even reach him, was swallowed by the endless shadows.

Then, the darkness exploded.

The angels didn't even have time to scream. In an instant, they turned to ash.

Rogar, with eyes now completely filled with fear and respect, fell to his knees.

He raised his hands toward the sky and, with a trembling voice, said:

"Holy gods… if he truly is a demon god… then grant me the power to destroy this demon and save the world."

A manic smile curled on his lips.

"Now, let me summon my greatest trump card. The most powerful angel."

Another light split the sky.