Somewhere in the modern world called Earth, the day hummed with movement and sound. Cars buzzed down busy streets, people clustered at intersections, their conversations overlapping in a sea of opinions and thoughts. Bits of laughter and musings about daily routines floated in the warm air. Teenagers zipped past on skateboards, laughing as they shouted plans and dared each other to try wild new tricks. The city was alive—a symphony of motion and noise.
"Let's hit the bowl park after this!" one skater yelled, launching into a kickflip.
"Bet—I'm landing the 360 today, no cap!"
"Bro, you almost broke your ankle last time!"
Laughter echoed as they rolled past pedestrians.
Nearby, a pair of older women exchanged opinions while waiting at the bus stop.
"I heard they're building another tower downtown. The skyline's gonna be nothing but glass."
"Mmm, and prices with it. My niece can barely afford rent now."
"Hmph. Everything's changing so fast."
But one sound stood apart: a rhythmic tapping.
Click. Tap. Click.
Victor Drake, a tall figure with raven-black hair and sleek sunglasses, walked alone. His cane struck the pavement like a metronome, guiding him through the urban maze. He was twenty-three, a kendo prodigy once celebrated across the world. Now blind, his steps carried the same unwavering resolve as they had when he faced opponents in the ring.
His thoughts moved as steadily as his feet.
"Every footstep is a form. Every corner I turn is a kata. Even without a blade... I'm still a swordsman."
He inhaled deeply, letting the city's scent and rhythm guide him.
"I miss the heat of battle. Not for glory. Not for praise. But that moment... when everything slows down. Just two souls, one strike, one truth. That's where I felt most alive."
Victor tilted his head slightly as if listening to echoes only he could hear. "It's been three years. Still feels like yesterday... that strike... that scream... then everything went dark."
—
Flashback: Tournament Arena – Three Years Ago
The roar of the crowd thundered through the dome-like stadium. A single ring lay in the center, roped off, lights above shimmering like divine judgment.
Victor stood tall, his kendo uniform crisp, his stance perfectly centered.
Announcer: "Final round! Victor Drake versus Hiroto Genda!"
His opponent—a larger, older man with a reputation for aggression—grinned menacingly. The referee dropped his hand.
"Begin!"
The clash was intense. Victor dodged and parried with precision, exploiting every opening. The crowd watched in breathless awe. The announcer narrated in rapid-fire excitement.
Announcer: "Victor counters! A clean men strike! What finesse!"
With a final sweep, Victor's shinai tapped Hiroto's torso. Clean. Match over.
Announcer: "Victor Drake wins! He's done it again!"
The crowd erupted.
But Hiroto's face twisted. Pride shattered. Rage surfaced.
"No... You think you're better than me?" he growled.
Victor turned. "Hiroto... it's over."
"No. I'll show you what over looks like!"
With no warning, Hiroto grabbed his shinai in two hands and lunged.
Crack!
The sound echoed like a gunshot. The bamboo splintered across Victor's face, directly over his eyes.
Victor screamed.
Announcer: "Security!! Someone stop him!"
He collapsed, hands over his eyes, blood mixing with splinters.
"I... I can't see! I can't—"
Everything went black.
—
Back in the present, Victor's hand instinctively touched his sunglasses.
"My world went dark... but I refused to disappear with it."
The tapping of his cane guided him through bustling streets.
"Walking... it centers me. I can feel the shifts in pavement, the rhythm of life. I trained my other senses harder than I ever trained my sword arm. I'm still adapting. Always adapting."
He paused at a crosswalk.
*"But why do I feel like something's coming? Something... off."
Nearby, two teens made their way down the same stretch of sidewalk.
"Darius, you're doing too much again," Aiko said softly, adjusting the strap of her bag.
"What? Nah, I've got it. Gym, class, content upload, and MMA drills—tight schedule, but I thrive on pressure," Darius grinned, spinning his water bottle and tossing it into his bag.
She gave him a skeptical look. "You also fell asleep in history. Twice."
He laughed. "Hey, I was visualizing my victory speech. You gotta see it to believe it, right?"
Aiko shook her head with a small smile. "You talk like everything's a competition."
"That's 'cause it is! Life's about winning—at school, in sports, in streaming. You either shine or you fade."
Aiko looked down at her prayer book. "I think... life is more about balance. Winning means little if you forget what you're fighting for."
He raised an eyebrow. "Deep thoughts again, huh, Shrine Girl?"
"Someone has to balance out your chaos," she said playfully.
"Touché," he said, smiling. "But seriously—what are you up to tonight?"
"I'll study for the biology quiz, then stop by the shrine for my evening duties. And... maybe light a candle for peace."
Darius nodded. "You know, I used to think all that shrine stuff was just... routine. But you really believe in it, don't you?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes. I believe in people. And that we're all part of something bigger."
He scratched the back of his head. "Wish I had your calm. I'm always running full speed."
"You have heart, Darius. And a good one. Just... don't burn out chasing the wind."
"Pfft. No promises," he grinned, then added after a beat, "But thanks."
Then, the ground trembled.
A low hum echoed beneath their feet—subtle at first, then rising to a bone-deep vibration. Lights shimmered on the pavement, forming ancient glyphs and swirling runes.
Victor stopped mid-step.
"There's power here... primal, old. Not from this world."
The summoning circle beneath them pulsed.
"What the hell is this?!" Darius shouted.
"I—I think it's magic," Aiko whispered, frozen in place.
Victor tried to move but his muscles locked up.
"I've fought giants. I've trained blind. But I've never felt anything like this... like the universe itself is folding."
Darius flailed as his feet began to lift. "I'm floating! Aiko, what the hell is going on?!"
"I don't know! Darius—grab my hand!" she cried.
Victor gritted his teeth, breathing heavy. "Why can't I move? This isn't just summoning... it's choosing. It's pulling me!"
The glyphs flared one last time—and the world dissolved in light.
—
The light receded like a wave, leaving Victor standing on unfamiliar terrain. The air was cool and crisp, heavy with the scent of pine, moss, and something faintly metallic.
Beneath his feet, soft grass blanketed the earth. He knelt, fingertips brushing clover and damp soil.
Birds chirped above. A waterfall thundered nearby, echoing through a forest clearing. The sky above was a soft violet, with twin suns hanging lazily in the air.
Darius groaned beside him, coughing.
"This... isn't Tokyo. This isn't even Japan."
Aiko landed gently beside him, eyes wide with wonder and fear.
"Where... where are we? Look at the trees. They're glowing."
Massive trees surrounded them—roots like gnarled hands, bark pulsing faintly with bioluminescent veins. Strange flowers bloomed with silent motion, their petals shimmering in blues and golds.
Stone ruins rose ahead, a half-buried temple with moss-covered columns and floating runes suspended in midair.
Victor stood slowly. His head turned slightly, absorbing every scent, sound, shift in air.
"Magic is thick here. The land breathes it. This world... it's alive."
Darius grabbed his bag, scanning the surroundings.
"You two okay?" he asked quickly.
"I think so," Aiko nodded, clutching her notebook. "You?"
"I've been through weird livestream glitches but this—this is next level."
Victor adjusted his stance.
"They're both shaken... but not broken. Good. We're going to need strength. Wherever we are, this isn't some dream."
From behind them, a deep, regal voice echoed through the clearing.
"Welcome, summoned heroes."
They turned sharply.
A tall, robed figure stood beneath a massive stone archway, hands clasped, face hidden by a hood. His robes shimmered like liquid starlight, and his eyes glowed faintly beneath the shadow of his cowl.
Victor gripped his cane tighter.
Darius stepped forward, protective. "Who the hell are you?!"
The figure offered a knowing smile.
As the radiant light faded and the ringing in their ears subsided, Victor and the two teens found themselves surrounded.
They turned—and froze.
An assembly of nobles, knights, and robed mages stood in a wide, marble chamber. The floor beneath them shimmered with inlaid sigils and golden veins of magic. Massive stained glass windows stretched along the far walls, depicting scenes of great wars, dragons, and shining heroes.
Steel-clad knights gripped weapons at their sides, standing in two lines that framed the summoning circle. Their expressions were a mix of shock, suspicion, and duty. Behind them, older men and women in lavish robes and extravagant gowns whispered amongst themselves—courtiers and nobles.
At the far end of the chamber, marble stairs ascended to a grand dais. Three high thrones sat atop it.
In the center sat a woman who radiated both command and ethereal beauty.
Queen Seraphina Elara.
Her long, flowing silver-blonde hair was braided into a majestic crown-braid, woven with streaks of pale gold and adorned by a low-profile circlet embedded with a glowing blue crystal—a relic of the First Hero. Her piercing ice-blue eyes scanned the newcomers with calculating precision.
She wore a majestic midnight-blue cape lined with enchanted white fur, embroidered with the golden holy sigils of her house. Ceremonial armor adorned her shoulders and gauntlets, layered over a sapphire-accented velvet battle gown—functional and regal.
The chamber fell silent as she rose.
Then she smiled faintly.
"Welcome," she said. "Let me introduce myself. I am Queen Seraphina Elara—The Lion Queen of Elarion. I am the one who ordered the summoning of heroes."
Darius blinked. "Wait... queen? Real queen?"
Aiko gasped softly. "We were summoned... for real? This isn't a dream?"
Victor stood behind them, listening. Though he couldn't see the throne or the people, the weight of the room pressed down on him like stone.
"Another world. Another life. I've been summoned by a queen... but I still can't see anything. Only the sound of power around me."
Darius took a step forward, frowning. "Why are we here? Did you really just summon us out of our lives without asking?"
The Queen's expression didn't falter. "I brought you here because our kingdom—and perhaps the world—is in grave danger. The Demon Lord... is awakening."
That word stopped them cold.
"D-Demon Lord?!" Darius shouted.
Aiko covered her mouth. "You mean like... an actual demon? Like end-of-the-world demon?"
"Exactly," Seraphina said. "And only the summoned heroes of prophecy can defeat him."
Darius stared, his voice climbing. "This isn't anime! We're not even warriors! We go to high school!"
"This... this is insane," Aiko whispered. "We're just kids... How can we fight something like that?"
Victor exhaled slowly, speaking only in thought.
"So that's it. They summoned us to fight a demon lord. To save their world. Just like some fantasy novel. But I'm not one of them. I can't be. I'm blind. I can't save anyone."
Queen Seraphina raised a hand.
"The prophecy speaks of two heroes summoned from beyond the veil of worlds," she said. "Chosen by fate to stop the darkness. It has never failed us before."
She took a breath, and the atmosphere thickened with reverence.
"Every thousand years, the veil between realms thins, and from beyond the stars two champions are summoned. Always two. They arrive in times of dire need, when the world teeters at the edge of ruin. It is written in the Star Codex and the Scroll of Ancients. The Demon Lord, a being of malice and chaos, awakens in cycles. He ravages the world with fire and shadow. Only the chosen can stand against him. This prophecy has held true for millennia. Kingdoms rise and fall, but the cycle remains."
She looked directly at Darius and Aiko.
"You two were chosen—not by me, but by the threads of fate itself."
Darius stared, jaw clenched. "So... we're prophecy puppets now? Is that what this is?"
Aiko looked over her shoulder suddenly, narrowing her eyes.
"Wait a second..."
Darius blinked. "What?"
Aiko whispered, "There's someone behind us."
The two teens turned slowly and saw Victor for the first time.
"Whoa—he's been standing there the whole time?" Darius asked.
"I didn't even notice him until now," Aiko said. "He's so quiet."
Victor gave a faint nod. "That's me. Always watching. Never seen."
"I have one question," Aiko said.
The Queen turned her piercing gaze on her. "Speak, Hero Aiko."
Aiko pointed over her shoulder. "If there are only supposed to be two heroes... then why is he here?"
Victor tensed.
"I-I'm sorry," Aiko continued, "but... he's blind. Why would someone like him be summoned?"
Queen Seraphina's gaze flicked toward Victor.
Everyone turned.
Even the nobles whispered.
"He's... blind?"
"An accident?"
"Impossible. The spell was flawless..."
Victor stammered, heart pounding. "H-hi there..."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"Was he really summoned?"
"Perhaps... he's cursed?"
"Or a failed vessel..."
Queen Seraphina's eyes narrowed.
"This... is highly irregular."
She turned to the woman seated at her right.
"This is my daughter, Crown Princess Lysara Elara. She led the summoning ritual."
Lysara stood. In her twenties, she wore a high-collared violet longcoat over ceremonial mage robes. Her icy violet eyes scanned Victor, calculating.
Her voice was cool. "The spell was exact. But... there may have been an anomaly."
The Queen's eyes hardened. "Anomaly?"
Lysara hesitated, her jaw tightening. "Something interfered. Or... someone."
A slow, mischievous whistle broke the tension.
"Oops."
All eyes turned to the youngest woman on the dais—seated at the Queen's left.
Princess Miria Elara.
Seventeen, with silver-white hair tipped in lavender and bright violet eyes, Miria twirled a glowing pendant and laughed nervously.
"I may have... um, added a little tweak to the circle. Just to see what would happen."
Lysara's glare sharpened. "You did what?!"
"It was harmless! I wanted to boost the summoning range. Maybe grab a cool adventurer or a dragon egg—just a little surprise! But... I guess I pulled in Mystery Blind Guy instead."
"You chaotic, impulsive little—"
"Oh, please, Ice Queen! At least I do things instead of sitting in a dusty library all day!"
"That dusty library contains millennia of arcane wisdom, you reckless brat!"
"I tweaked one glyph!"
"You destabilized a ritual meant to reshape fate!"
"I made it more fun!"
"You ruined centuries of tradition!"
"I made it interesting!"
"Enough!" Queen Seraphina's voice cracked like thunder.
Silence fell again.
Her gaze settled on Victor.
"Even if you are blind... you were brought here. Perhaps by fate. Or by folly. Either way, you stand before the throne of Elarion."
She stepped forward.
"You there... the one who is blind. What is your name?"
Victor swallowed, heart pounding.
"My name is Victor Drake. And... yes, I am blind. If I was summoned by accident... can I go home?"
The Queen's expression softened for the first time.
"I am sorry, Victor. The summoning is a one-way journey. There is no returning to your world."
Victor's smile faded.
He bowed his head.
"So... that's it. No dojo. No Tokyo. No second chance. I'm stuck. Alone. Again."
Victor stood quietly after the Queen's declaration, his cane resting against his palm, shoulders still and contemplative.
"So… there's no going back. No return to Tokyo. No more nights on the tatami floor… No more dojo. No more sparring matches. I'm really stuck here."
The chamber's echoes had faded, but his heart still beat with the weight of her words. This world was vast, foreign, magical—and utterly inescapable.
"I should be furious. Scared. But all I feel… is hollow. What now, Victor? What can a blind swordsman do in a world like this?"
Just then, a soft shuffle and the creak of worn leather shoes cut through the quiet. Someone had stepped forward.
It was Aiko.
She raised her hand timidly. "Um... excuse me, Your Majesty."
Queen Seraphina turned her regal gaze toward her. "Yes, Hero Aiko. Speak."
Aiko hesitated, her honey-brown eyes filled with worry. "How exactly are we supposed to defeat a Demon Lord? We don't have powers. We don't have weapons. We're just… high school kids."
Darius stepped up beside her. "Yeah, she's right. We've never held a sword, never cast a spell. You expect us to stop some ancient evil monster? That's crazy."
Queen Seraphina gave a slow, understanding nod. "A fair question. One I expected. Allow me to have someone far more capable explain."
She gestured toward a tall figure beside her—an old man wrapped in deep blue robes laced with silver runes.
"Grand Sage Belthandor, if you would."
The man stepped forward with slow, deliberate poise. His long, snow-white beard shimmered faintly under the enchanted light. His hood was down, revealing sharp features and ancient eyes that sparkled with quiet wisdom.
"Greetings, summoned heroes," he said, voice smooth like parchment. "I am Grand Sage Belthandor, Arcane Scholar of the Ninth Circle, Master of Elemental Harmonies, and Keeper of the Tower of Insight. It is an honor to meet you."
Darius's eyes widened. "Yo… this guy's like a real wizard. Robes, staff, beard and all!"
Aiko whispered, "He looks like he stepped out of a movie. Is this… what sages really look like?"
Victor tilted his head toward the voice, arms crossed loosely.
"A sage… Let's see what he has to say. Maybe he has answers. Maybe… he knows what I am."
Queen Seraphina looked to the Grand Sage fondly. "Belthandor has guided this kingdom since before I wore a crown. He was my father's advisor, and now he is mine. I trust him with the safety of this realm."
Belthandor bowed lightly. "Your Majesty honors me."
He turned to the teens.
"Now, young heroes, allow me to explain the nature of the world you now stand in. This land is called Velderra, the realm of mana and monsters, of steel and sorcery. You were summoned to the capital of Elarion, one of the seven great nations of the western continent, Arcanis."
Aiko blinked. "Velderra... Arcanis... It sounds so big."
"It is," Belthandor replied. "Beyond Elarion's walls lie enchanted forests, mountain strongholds, endless deserts ruled by wind spirits, and deep oceans patrolled by leviathans. Cities like Silvercrest, Arvathir, and Eldwyn stand as beacons of light against the creeping dark."
Darius rubbed his neck. "So there's monsters out there? Like, actual ones?"
"Indeed," Belthandor said with a solemn nod. "From goblins and drakes to soul-wraiths and void fiends. But not all are evil—some are intelligent, some peaceful. But many… are not."
"And magic?" Aiko asked.
"Magic in Velderra is life," Belthandor explained. "It is breath and will and structure. Every spell is a woven thread of force, shaped by thought and soul. Some wield elemental sorcery—fire, water, earth, air. Others channel divine blessings, necromantic whispers, or arcane constructs. Magic comes in many schools, and even more forms."
Victor stood silently, absorbing every word.
"A living world. A place of monsters and mystics. It's like every fantasy novel come to life. And I'm in the middle of it… blind."
Belthandor gestured gently. "All sentient beings here possess a magical essence—mana. And through that essence, their strength is defined not just by body, but by spirit. That is where Classes come in."
"Classes?" Darius repeated.
"Indeed," Belthandor said. "Upon your arrival, your souls synchronized with the Astral Codex. It has assigned each of you a class based on your emotions, will, and latent potential. These classes will grow as you do, evolve with experience, and awaken your true power."
Aiko blinked. "So... we really have magic now?"
Belthandor nodded. "You have more than magic. You have the essence of heroes."
Victor's brows drew in faintly.
"Magic tied to emotion. Power shaped by potential. Then what about me? What does a blind warrior carry in his soul?"
"To access your status," the Grand Sage said, lifting his staff, "you need only speak the phrase: Open Status. This will allow you to see what class the world has bestowed upon you."
Darius looked at Aiko. "Guess we're about to find out what we're really made of."
Aiko smiled nervously. "Yeah… Let's do it together."
Darius grinned. "OPEN STATUS!"
With a sudden chime, a translucent blue screen materialized before him. Lines of glowing text scrolled through the air.
"Whoa!" Darius shouted. "It's real! It's like a full-on HUD! It's even got sound!"
Aiko followed. "Open Status."
Her own screen shimmered into being, soft white light casting across her face.
Darius squinted, reading aloud. "Class: Flame Paladin. Strength... Fire affinity... wait, I've got a resistance meter?! This is awesome!"
"Mine says… Holy Saintess," Aiko said, her voice small and in awe. "It's beautiful. Light magic... healing boost... wait—I can bless people?"
Darius laughed. "Yo! I'm the tank and you're the healer! We're a party already!"
Aiko smiled. "I never imagined I'd be called a 'Saintess.' This is beyond anything I dreamed."
Across the chamber, the nobles murmured in awe.
"A Paladin and a Saintess… how fitting."
"The Flame Paladin class hasn't appeared in over a hundred years."
"Divine light and sacred fire… they must be the true heroes."
Royal mages nodded in reverent recognition.
"The synchronization was perfect," one whispered. "They're exactly as foretold."
Queen Seraphina's eyes narrowed slightly, but her voice remained regal. "A Saintess of Light… and a warrior of flame. Courage and compassion—shield and salvation. A strong balance."
Lysara tilted her head, studying them both. "Their mana cores are dense. Stable. Aligned with divine frequencies. The prophecy holds."
Even Miria clapped lightly. "Aw, they're so sparkly! Darius even looks like he's glowing a little!"
Victor listened to all of it, arms still crossed, his head bowed slightly.
"Flame Paladin. Holy Saintess. Strong classes. Sacred titles. What can they do? Fire and healing… offense and defense… That's a good combo."
"But me?"
He exhaled. "Open Status."
Silence.
Then—ding.
A soft chime echoed inside his head. He flinched. Then felt a strange warmth crawl through his skull, like the wind brushing past his thoughts.
A screen bloomed into his mind's eye—not something he could see, but something he could feel. A projection in the dark. A whisper of light against shadows.
Text shimmered in silence. Victor's breath caught.
The screen shimmered quietly within Victor's mind, as though it existed just outside of the realm of sight. Lines of glowing text etched themselves in an unseen language only he could perceive—felt in the rhythm of his pulse, the pull of his instincts.
Then it spoke to him.
Name: Victor Drake
Age: 23
Race: Human
Level: 1
Class: Blind Swordsman
Titles: Accidental Hero, The One Who Sees Without Eyes, Echo Blade Initiate, The Unchosen
Health Points: 340 / 340
Magic Points: 220 / 220
Strength: 45
Agility: 62
Endurance: 48
Mana: 100
Luck: 42
Charm: 39
Normal Skills:
Enhanced Hearing (Passive): Can perceive movement, emotion, and surroundings via sound.
Silent Movement: Reduces sound generated while moving.
Pain Suppression (Passive): Reduces flinch and stagger from incoming attacks.
Instinctive Balance: Cannot be knocked off balance by terrain alone.
Sixth Sense (Passive): Alerts him to incoming intent and danger.
Appraisal: Allows analysis of people, items, and monsters via touch or sound.
Danger Sense: A "gut feeling" triggered by violent or malicious intent.
Tactile Awareness: Reads vibrations and pressure in surfaces through footwork.
Ability Skills:
Echo Tap: Victor taps the tip of his sword against the ground, emitting a controlled vibration pulse through the floor and air. This distorts local soundwaves and interferes with enemy senses—particularly hearing, balance, and spatial awareness.
Ghost Step: Briefly phases out of the visible plane to evade an incoming strike.
Echo Jump: Launch forward off sonic waves or shock pulses; can chain movement.
Combat Focus: Increases AGI and END by 15% for 10 seconds (cooldown: 60s).
Stealth Step: Move silently and with reduced enemy detection.
Blade Synesthesia: Feel enemy weapon paths through sound vibrations.
Sword Arts Skills:
Draw Cut: Whisper Slash: High-speed unsheath strike with increased crit chance.
Echo Parry: Reactive block triggered by sonic wave timing.
Shadow Step Counter: Dash behind enemy after dodging.
Echo Fang (Lv.1): Precision stab aimed at weak points revealed through vibration.
Wind Thread Slash: Horizontal cut that rides the sound of wind for extended range.
Backcut Spiral: Reverse sweep that follows an enemy's dodge or shift.
Sheathed Blade Strike: Attacks while blade is still sheathed, stunning on contact.
Unique Skill:
World Echo Sense EX: Creates a passive field around Victor up to 15 meters. Translates sound, vibration, tension, and kinetic signatures into spatial awareness. Detects heartbeats, intent shifts, even lying tones. Active form enhances reaction speed by 40% for 10 seconds.
Weapon:
Mystic Echo Katana (Bound Weapon): Emits a faint sound on draw—enhancing World Echo Sense.
Items: Unknown starter gear, Echo-sensitive bandages, Initiate's belt pouch.
Victor stood still, taking it all in.
"Blind Swordsman... That's my class?" he thought, awe spreading through his chest. "Accidental Hero, The One Who Sees Without Eyes… They really gave me titles. It's not a joke. This isn't a mistake."
He smiled, slow and genuine. His hand clenched slightly around his cane.
"They thought they summoned the wrong person. They thought a blind man had no place in their prophecy."
He raised his head slightly, grinning wider.
"But this class... these skills... This is me. I don't need to see the world to fight for it. This isn't the end—this is my new chance."
To be continued...