The sky was tearing apart.
A crimson sigil glowed beneath the summoning altar, its ancient runes rotating like a grinding wheel of fate. Magicians in black cloaks stood around it, chanting with shaking voices. Their spells twisted the air, making it vibrate like a living thing.
Tonight was the Night of the First Eclipse.
Tonight, the world called Ephraea would face its doom.
And their only hope…
was the hero they were about to summon.
"Begin the final chant!" the High Summoner roared.
Light exploded from the circle—violent, burning, blinding.
A silhouette appeared inside the light.
A hero.
A savior.
A—
"WHAAAA—WHERE AM I?!" the boy screamed.
The light vanished.
Silence.
A spiky-haired teenager crashed onto the stone floor, rubbing his head. Worn-out shirt, dusty jeans, a cheap wooden sword tied to his back.
The summoners stared.
The boy blinked at them.
"…Yo?" he said.
The High Summoner's face twitched. "THIS… this is our hero?!"
The others whispered.
"He looks weak…"
"He's human-level magic… maybe lower…"
"Did the ritual fail?!"
The boy stood up straight, puffing his chest. "I am NOT weak! I'm a swordsman from Earth! Also, uh, do you guys have food? I skipped breakfast."
Dead silence again.
A vein popped on the High Summoner's forehead. "YOU—ARE A FAILED SUMMON!"
He drew a ceremonial blade, eyes burning with hatred.
"If the ritual is ruined, then your life will pay for it."
The boy took a step back. "H-Hey! Calm down! I'm not THAT useless!"
"DIE!"
The High Summoner lunged forward.
The boy's instincts took over.
He pulled out his wooden sword—cracked, scratched, barely held together.
But his stance became sharp. His breathing steady. His eyes focused.
Sword Style – Flow Breathing: First Motion.
He blocked the killing strike, sparks flying as a wooden blade met steel.
"You can fight?" the summoners gasped.
The boy smirked.
"What do you think I am? I trained for years! Also, I'm very hard to kill. My mom threw slippers stronger than your sword!"
He counterattacked.
The High Summoner dodged.
Their blades clashed, steel ringing through the hall.
But the Summoner was stronger.
Faster.
Fueled by rage and mana.
The boy was being pushed back—step by step—until his foot slipped on the sigil line.
The Summoner's blade pierced his shoulder.
"GAAAH—!"
Blood dripped on the floor.
The Summoner raised his sword again, aiming for the neck.
"It ends."
The boy gritted his teeth.
I don't want to die again…
Not here.
Not in this world…
Not when life finally feels different…
His vision blurred.
Then—
A second heartbeat echoed inside him.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM.
The air around him twisted.
A chilling aura erupted from his chest.
The summoners backed away.
From deep inside his soul…
something awakened.
A voice—low, monstrous, echoing.
"Second Fold Soul: Awaken.
I lend you my flesh… my rage… my BEAM."
Black, scaly skin erupted from his right arm like living armor wrapping around him.
Claws grew over his fingers.
A demonic tail flickered into existence behind him.
A single horn burst from his forehead.
The summoners froze.
"A F-Folded Monster… inside a human?!"
The boy's right eye turned crimson.
A sigil lit up on his arm.
KILLER BEAM – 1% OUTPUT
A thin red laser shot from his palm—piercing the Summoner's blade, splitting it in half, then blasting him into a wall.
The hall trembled as dust rained down.
The boy stared at his monstrous arm, trembling.
"What… the hell… is this…?"
The monstrous voice inside whispered again.
"One of eight.
One fold of the Eightfold Soul.
Requiem awaits."
The transformation faded, the skin crumbling into ash.
The boy dropped to his knees, sweating.
Before the Summoner could attack again, a girl rushed in—silver-haired, blue-eyed, wearing knight armor.
"STOP!"
Her voice echoed like thunder.
She stood between them, sword drawn, a calm yet deadly aura surrounding her.
"That boy is NOT a failed summon," she declared. "Anyone who can awaken a Folded Soul is chosen by fate."
The boy stared at her—heart skipping a beat.
Cute…
Beautiful, even…
And strong.
His crush was born instantly.
The Summoner spat blood. "He is unstable! Dangerous!"
She shook her head. "He is alive. That is enough. I will take responsibility."
She helped the boy stand.
He blushed so hard even the ashes on the floor felt embarrassed.
"H-Hi," he said.
She looked at him, eyes soft. "What is your name?"
He grinned despite the blood on his lips.
"Name's Kaien Arclight. Future greatest swordsman of this world. And… maybe your future husband?"
She blinked.
He winked.
She sighed. "You really ARE a strange summon."
But she smiled.
And the air shifted.
Deep within Kaien's soul… the other folded monsters stirred.
Dragons.
Beasts.
Winged terrors.
Shadow creatures.
Seven more waiting.
Seven more powers.
Seven more voices.
And far away, the Eclipse rumbled—its monster awakening.
A new threat whispered into the wind:
"The Eightfold Soul has returned…"
Kaien tightened his grip on his wooden sword.
"Guess I'm not a failed summon after all."
But in the shadows…
someone else whispered a prophecy:
"The Eclipse Monster will destroy everything.
And the soul controlling that monster…
will be someone the hero loves."
The nightmare had already begun.