"Hurry up! We don't got all day!"
The soldier's voice cut through the chaos like a whip, sharp and merciless. He repeated it again and again, each shout harsher than the last.
"Faster!" he barked, shoving a girl down onto the sand. She tumbled but scrambled to her feet, gripping the side of a wooden boat.
"Hey!" the boy beside her, Ken, clenched his fist in fury, ready to punch the soldier.
But the girl grabbed his arm before he could move.
"No need, Ken! I'm fine…let's just hurry."
Ken gritted his teeth, his anger simmering, and followed her into the boat.
As he looked around, a cold knot formed in his stomach.
Millions of boats lined the coast, stretching farther than he could see.
And on every boat, millions of people like him—confused, terrified, powerless—were being shoved forward like cattle.
The soldiers shouted, waving whips and batons, forcing everyone to obey.
Ken's gaze swept across the horizon.
"This isn't heroism… this is slaughter."
( Two Months Earlier )
The rooftop of their high school was quiet, except for the wind brushing through the fences and rustling hair. Two students leaned against the rail, the sunset painting their faces gold.
"Hey, Alya," Ken said, his voice unusually calm, almost detached. "Do you… believe in reincarnation?"
Alya blinked at him, frowning. "Huh? What kind of weird question is that? Are you possessed or something?"
Ken's expression stayed flat.
"What kind of ghost possesses a kid just to go to school? Just answer the question."
Alya tilted her head, uneasy. "Well… part of me believes in it, part of me doesn't. But… Ken, seriously, what have you been watching? You've been acting weird for days."
Ken opened his mouth to explain, but the world changed in an instant.
A blinding light erupted around them. Magic circles, glowing with incomprehensible power, appeared beneath their feet. The city around them vanished in a flash.
"W-What…?!"
Before they could react, they were pulled into the light.
When Ken opened his eyes, the world was gone.
A barren plain stretched endlessly in all directions. The wind carried the smell of salt and fear. And everywhere he looked, there were people—hundreds of millions—all blinking, confused, terrified, or desperate.
Some cried in relief. Others laughed, unable to comprehend what had happened.
"No way! Did we just get isekai'd?!"
"This is like an anime! We're heroes now!"
Ken didn't feel excitement.
He felt a cold, creeping dread.
Then, a voice boomed from a massive floating magic circle above the crowd.
"People of another world, I am Zerath Kaen, Emperor of Trasil.
You have been summoned here to save our world from the creatures called The Unknown, who dwell in the Unknown Continent.
In two months, We the people of Trasil will help you all awaken your hidden abilities, by training day and night.
After that… you will enter the Unknown Continent, slay its monsters, and try to retrieve the Fragments of God, and became a hero"
The crowd erupted into cheers. People jumped, some cried tears of joy, others laughed in disbelief.
"Heroes! We're heroes!"
"This is our chance!"
But Ken's eyes narrowed.
"Why summon so many people? Hundreds of millions? If it were just a normal isekai, two or three would be enough…"
Alya, smiling faintly, touched his arm.
"Well… what could go wrong? If anything happens, the millions of us can overpower them."
Ken remained silent, his mind racing.
"but still this isn't feel right." The next day come.
( The Brutal Training )
The soldiers moved like predators, surrounding the summoned humans and marching them to camps.
Days and nights blurred into one another.
Training was relentless. Sword drills, archery, survival exercises, combat simulations—they never stopped.
Some discovered their abilities quickly. Others… weren't so lucky.
Alya had healing magic, gentle and precise. She patched wounds and soothed pain.
Ken… nothing.
No magic. No awakening.
He wasn't alone, though; one in a million failed to unlock their power. But being powerless in this world was a death sentence.
Still, he trained, sharpening his swordsmanship and endurance, determined to survive even without magic, because in two months they will be send off to the unknown continent.
( The World Revealed )
In two months, Ken learned the truth.
There were eight continents. Seven were human, each ruled by an emperor. The eighth—the Unknown Continent—was a place of absolute danger.
In the unknown continent there are ten level of danger, the deeper in the middle you go, the more danger you will be in.
Each empire had summoned 100 million people from Earth, aged sixteen to twenty.
They were told they'd become heroes.
In reality… they were soldiers sending off to die.
Magic in this world was boundless, but strict.
Books contained common or rare spells. Scrolls held rare, mythical, or even divine power. Only the lucky could find one. Only those whose magic matched the spell could learn it. Light mages couldn't learn dark scrolls, fire mages couldn't use ice.
Even if they couldn't learn it, every summoned human was given a storage ring—a magical container for items, scrolls, and treasures.
And among all of the scroll there are fifty known Divine scroll, ten had already been discovered. The rest? Hidden somewhere in the Unknown Continent.
The divine skill is the only skill that can do damage to a demi god, and even god himself, and divine scroll doesn't need to match your magic, every mage no matter what magic they got, they all can use the divine scroll to learn divine skill.
( The March to Death )
And then the day came.
Millions of boats lined the shores, stretching to the horizon.
Millions of humans, hearts pounding, faces pale with fear and anticipation.
The soldiers shouted, whips cracking.
"Move! Board the boats! Do not delay!"
Some prayed. Some screamed. Some laughed in ignorance.
Alya clutched her staff, eyes wide. "Ken… do you think we'll survive?"
Ken's eyes were fixed on the horizon, on the dark mist of the sea water, and far even our eye couldn't see is the Unknown Continent.
"…I don't know," he whispered. "But if we don't… I'll make sure you do."
The boats began to move.
The sea churned.
The fleet of millions sailed forward.
Towards a land where no one returned.
Towards a world where "heroes" were sent to die.
To be continued…