“Still,” Arthur’s father muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe we’re talking about demons and gods and summoning circles.”

  “Welcome to fantasy isekai land,” Arthur replied with a grin. “Population, us.”

  “You’re enjoying this more than you care to admit,” Trayn gave Arthur a nudge with his elbow and teased with a smirk.

  “I absolutely am not,” Arthur replied but Trayn snorted. The boys at least, weren’t fooled.

  “Man,” I said scratching the back of my head. “Ender’s Game looks different from what I remember.”

  A few chuckles from the Americans and my brother. “Peak reference my guy,” Trayn replied his smirk wide. Though some, mostly the boys were chuckling, the rest were still talking his hushed tones. Still, the atmosphere became lighter as everyone was starting to crack jokes here and there.

  Celestia cleared her throat, visibly trying to regain the poise she had when she first stepped into the chamber.

  “If—if there are no further objections for the moment,” she said cautiously, “I will continue explaining. His Majesty will answer what I cannot, and I promise everyone, no decision will be forced upon anyone of you today or any day.”

  The adults traded glances. Hesitant. Guarded. But ultimately willing to listen.

  My mother finally spoke, voice gentler and steadier than before. “We still have many concerns. But we will hear what your king has to say first.”

  The other adults and also Celestia gave a small bow with visible relief. “Thank you. Truly.”

  “The king?” I said, then I casually jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. “Isn’t he that important-looking person behind us?”

  Every head turned at once and looked as Celestia sprang to her feet.

  “Majesty!” she squeaked, dropping into the same curtsy she gave us earlier. Weirdly enough, everyone else scrambled to their feet as well.

  At the far end of the room, the king stepped forward and made his way towards us. The king looked slightly older than my father, but his expression, it was the look of a man who was weary beyond all reason, worn thin by responsibility, someone who had been carrying too much for too long and was simply enduring it.

  Behind him streamed an entire entourage of servants. Some pushing trolleys piled high with food steaming soup, a roasted pig, possibly, chickens glazed and golden, heaps of pastries and bread, tiny cakes arranged like treasure hoards. Others carried stacks of plates, cutlery, and crisp white linens that were probably meant to serve as napkins.

  After the servants, thirty guards, armored head to foot, armed with this worlds version of spears and swords, marched in with formation-perfect discipline, then peeled off and stationed themselves in the garden. They not too far to be out of earshot, but not too close to hear the conversation inside.

  The servants quickly set the tables in a whirlwind of efficiency before exiting.

  Then the king spoke.

  “Everyone, you need not stand at attention on my account, please,” he said, raising a hand and gesturing for us to sit. Surprisingly his voice was rich, deep but gentle and warm. He doesn’t have a distinct accent like Celestia, but his tone had a faint trace of something almost British.

  We all sat back down again as Celestia introduced the king. In my case, it was back on the floor again.

  “Everyone, this is His Highness, King Alistair Theodore Valecrest, Duke of Castellmere and Lord of Whitestone.”

  The king nodded pleasantly and took his seat. “Welcome heroes, to our world and our kingdom. We need not introduce ourselves right away. All will be revealed, in due time. For now,—”

  He paused and raised a hand.

  “—everyone please, enjoy the food,” he finished with a small smile, gesturing to the feast laid before us. Then he turned his attention to me.

  “For how long did you notice me there?” he asked, curios.

  “Long enough,” I replied casually, leaning back. I already got the sense that this man was somewhat accommodating. Time to see if he has a sense of humor. “I noticed you skulking behind the door when we arrived here. Were you trying to be a ghost or something?”

  My father’s face tightened, while my mother gripped Reika’s hand again. To my surprise, the king, however, broke into a wide smile.

  “Eavesdropping was rude of me, and I apologize,” he admitted with a small, rueful shake of his head. “But tell me, why did you not inform everyone of my presence if you noticed me earlier?”

  Even in another world, I don’t think I will bend for everyone. Time to be truthful.

  “Meh, I thought it would be funny,” I replied nonchalantly and shrugged. “Besides, the conversation kinda got heated, I thought that they would finish quickly but they didn’t, so I kinda lost my timing.”

  The king chuckled—actually chuckled. Which was wild, considering I was being only mildly respectful at best. Celestia didn’t seem shocked; she simply listened quietly.

  “Of course, if they all try to get angry again, say the word, your hiney-ness and I will do my best to diffuse the situation,” I said happily raising my fingers, ready to snap.

  The king chuckled again at my use of slightly offensive words, and that signaled to me that this person might be someone I could actually get along with.

  “Don’t do that again,” my father hissed.

  “Don’t make me do it again,” I countered, making him glare at me. I sighed and raised both hands.

  “You think I want to do that again? You know, I’m not used to being the voice of reason,” I said to everyone. “It feels weird.”

  That got a few chuckles from the boys.

  I finally settled into a chair beside Nana baa-san. Her posture was as composed as always—calm, unmoving, an immovable mountain, except, I could feel her seething through our link. Karura was not pleased either.

  Across from us, Suzu approached the table nearest to them with the caution of a skittish wild animal, like a deer approaching a salt lick. She eyed the pastries like they might explode, then—gingerly—took one of the small cakes between her fingers. I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  When she caught me staring at her, she puffed her cheeks, and gave a tiny, indignant hmpf before taking an exaggeratedly confident bite.

  That appeared to be the signal the rest of the girls were waiting for. One by one, they joined her, tasting the pastries, bread and cakes.

  I blinked.

  Why are they eating like it’s a midnight buffet? Aren’t they tired? Then I remembered, right heroes. Possibly. Probably.

  Which meant stamina-shenanigans might already be in play. I sighed internally. Figures.

  The conversation with the king resumed, touching on the same topics Celestia had already mentioned earlier.

  “We are truly sorry that we had to resort to such measures,” King Alistair said, tone gentle but weighed with responsibility. “The scale of the threat demands action beyond what our world alone can muster.”

  He paused, expression tightening with regret. “It pains me, us, as a country as a whole, to admit our weakness, to feel helpless and ask for aid from strangers from faraway lands.”

  His face looked like he was forced to swallow bugs.

  “If it were within my power, we would send you home this very moment. But we cannot. We do not possess such magic. It was our god who called you here and our god alone can return you.”

  A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft clatter of cutlery and the night breeze filtering through the glass panels. No one spoke for a rather long time after that.

  Finally, Haruto spoke, his voice steady in a way. “Everyone, it sounds like we can’t go home unless we do what we were brought here to do. That’s our reality now. We have to face it.”

  His words struck like a stone dropped into still waters and the ripples spread throughout the group—acceptance in some, dread in others.

  Naturally, their teacher was the first to push back.

  “No, Haruto-kun,” she said firmly. “We cannot accept that without exploring every other possibility. There must be another way. Negotiation. Communication. Diplomacy. Something that does not involve children fighting a war.”

  Haruto countered immediately, the two falling into a quiet but heated debate—one arguing necessity, the other morality. It was like watching the two halves of everyone’s thoughts collide in real time.

  Celestia stepped in, her voice soft but painfully honest.

  “Diplomacy has been tried,” she said. “Not once. Not twice. More than a dozen times. By us, and by every nation that borders the demon lands.”

  She shook her head, a shadow crossing her expression. “None succeeded. Their answer has always been the same. The deaths of our envoys.”

  “This is not a conflict we wanted to get involved in, considering how far we are from their lands,” he added quietly. “But it has come to this. A fight we cannot avoid to the point where every country is already mobilizing. And now, you are part of that story, whether we wished it or not.”

  The weight of his words settled over us like a looming sword above our heads, to everyone aside from me and Nana baa-san, it was a heavy, unavoidable, undeniable thing.

  As the discussion continued and deepened, and the rest of the adults grew increasingly somber, I slipped back into my own head for a moment. I had used the snap earlier, pretending it was a silly gesture, but in truth it was a test.

  I used it to scan not just the room, but the entire castle for mana detectors, or wards. It acted much like how sonar works. There was nothing. Not even a flicker.

  So, I took the next step.

  I opened mana sense, layering soul-sight over it like sliding one colored lens atop another. The world shifted immediately, spheres of power growing and blooming around me, luminous and alive. It was like watching the air itself breathe into glowing suns.

  The king’s aura was steady and muted, the kind of strength worn down by long years and heavy choices. Then I looked at his soul, which made me smirk a bit. He was as he presented himself, worn out blue mixed with bright yellow. He was tired and hopeful, but deep down, he has a mischievous side with how the green swirled over and over.

  Yeah, we are definitely going to get along.

  Celestia’s aura was neither a whisper nor a blaze, but something balanced between the two, regal in its presence, yet gentle in its approach. It felt like a wand and staff in one. Her soul’s colors were humble, a warm light-brown glow threaded with swirling waves of soft blue, as if calm earth and open sky met within her spirit. Her core, however, was passion, bright and burning.

  They are good people.

  Still.

  Even if we doubled her power, or even if we multiplied it a hundredfold to match whatever last-boss demon lord they were scared of—Nana baa-san alone could obliterate the entire demon army with a single annoyed sigh.

  I caught myself glancing at the old woman beside me. Calm. Composed. Definitely bored. If these people knew what she was capable of, they would be offering sacrifices, not pastries. Though that would annoy her, Karura would be pleased. She caught my glance. I smiled, a toothy grin and she rolled her eyes though the edges of her lips curved a bit. Yeah, she got my message.

  Turning my attention to the boys. Yeah, these bastards were excited. Damned chuuni bastards. My attention drifted next to my parents.

  My father had settled down, breathing steady, sitting stiff but composed, his hand resting on the table like he’d accepted at least seventy-two percent of the madness that is this situation. My mother, however, was not okay. Her expression was tight, her hands clenched, shoulders trembling just slightly. Then I looked at her soul.

  I frowned.

  Then grabbed one of the small cakes from a nearby plate.

  Without ceremony, and without asking, I leaned over and half-shoved it toward her mouth.

  “Mother,” I said brightly with a thumbs up. “Don’t worry. It’s not poisonous. I checked.”

  She blinked at me, startled, then reluctantly accepted the bite. The sudden domestic absurdity broke the tension like a snapped thread.

  The king let out a warm chuckle, low, genuine, amused. Celestia’s lips curved into a tiny smile, her eyes softening. Even Haruto let out a quiet snort.

  My mother swatted my shoulder in embarrassment, but at least her breathing had eased.

  If food diplomacy worked on my mother, maybe the demons should give it a try. Maybe lace a few cupcakes with nightshade or creeping doom, those or desert sleep, whichever gets the point across. But I decided to keep that thought to myself—for now.

  Of course, the moment my mother relaxed even a little, the universe decided peace was overrated.

  Reika, who had been watching us with a furrowed brow, suddenly leaned forward and pointed accusingly at me.

  “Ae! I want one too! Feed me a cake!”

  I stared at her.

  Then at my empty hand.

  Then back at her.

  No,” I said flatly.

  Her jaw dropped. Was she expecting me to say yes to her demand? “Why not?! You gave Mother one!”

  “Who’re you calling mother? Besides, she is my mother,” I replied with a frown. “You, on the other hand, are an idiot. There’s a difference.”

  “Ae you still owe from before!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Here, have a rock. Girls like rocks don’t they. I picked that up somewhere. It’s smooth and shiny.”

  I passed her a small pebble.

  “I—! That—!” She spluttered. “You’re so mean!”

  She threw the pebble at me but I swatted it away. It flew outside into the garden.

  “Thank you. I try.”

  Good-natured laughter spread through our group. Even my father cracked a reluctant smile. Nana baa-san didn’t react outwardly, but I caught the corner of her mouth twitch.

  The king watched the exchange with an expression that was amused, tired, and quietly relieved all at once. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

  “I understand the weight of what we have asked of you,” he began, resting his hands on top of the table. “It is not a choice anyone should be forced to make hastily. So, I ask this, take ten days starting tomorrow morning as it is now late. Rest. Speak with your families and companions.”

  He looked around the room, meeting each pair of eyes.

  “Once you have rested, learn about this world. Whatever decisions you make—whether you choose to fight, or whether you choose not to, our kingdom will respect it. This I swear to all of you.”

  Silence followed, not tense this time but thoughtful. A little over a week. It wasn’t much, but at least it wasn’t a demand to march to war tomorrow.

  Just as I was beginning to feel the room settle, the doors opened again.

  Four men entered, each carrying a corner of some large metal-and-crystal contraption. It didn’t hum nor make any kind of sound, but the air around it was bending in mild distortion. If I have to describe it, it looked like a fusion of large widescreen tv with a stand and a cash register.

  They set it down with a heavy thud near the front. Celestia stepped closer, eyes bright with anticipation.

  The king stood, gesturing towards the items.

  “That,” he announced, gesturing towards the device. “is our nation’s arcane evaluator. One of only a dozen devices in our country capable of accurately measuring the strength, potential, and categories of power of those blessed by the divine.”

  “With your permission,” the king continued, “we would like to assess each of your abilities. It will help us, but it will also help you, understand what gifts the god has granted you and how best we may support you in whatever endeavour you choose to do.”

  Everyone stared at it.

  It looked like the real test was about to begin.