I Was a Loner, but My Class Got Summoned to Another World…

Three fortresses stood secured, and a lush field of wheat—nurtured by the farmers and Stella's magic—marked the return of humanity's first foothold in the world.

Part of the sky even cleared as the demons' miasma faded from the area.

Roland had taken this day off after fighting nonstop. He now stood atop the walls, arms wrapped around Stella, watching all they had managed to accomplish in just a week.

Below them, workers tended to the fields with renewed energy. No one needed money yet—everything was traded. It was a rule Roland had enforced with the help of the king, who governed the people gathered in the first liberated kingdom.

Their forces were slowly growing stronger as more survivors arrived. Every newcomer was checked for signs of being a demon; they couldn't afford spies.

This task had become easier with the aid of the light spirit, who could sense a person's true intentions.

No demons had dared enter the camp—or so Roland believed at first.

He and Stella were chatting about her past when a soldier approached.

"Sir, we have word that demons are approaching. They don't appear hostile… they seem to want to speak with you, hero."

Roland was puzzled, as was Stella. They walked together until they reached Renar, who stood near the gate, already informed of the situation.

"What is it, Renar?"

Roland noticed he held a scroll, still skimming its contents despite the commotion.

"Just checking our supplies, Roland. We're in a good position for now. I just need to figure out how long we can hold."

Roland tried to make out the scroll's contents from where he stood but couldn't decipher any of it.

"If only I knew how you all write. Seems the spirits didn't want me handling administrative duties, huh…"

"That's fine," Renar replied. "For now, we just need to focus on this group of demons. They're deliberately moving slow, probably to avoid looking threatening. That gives us time to prepare. What's your plan, Roland?"

Roland still hated demons. He couldn't understand why they'd suddenly show up like this and expose themselves. By now, it was clear he had regained his power—and then some.

"From what I've seen, there's no more than five hundred of them. I think our main force can handle that. How about we ride out and meet them?" Roland suggested. Maybe they were here to surrender, though he doubted it. Still, anything was possible.

They waited for their twenty best to gear up and rode out through the gates on mounts, Roland at the front with Stella close behind.

Once they were within speaking distance, both sides came to a halt. The demons had already stopped some distance ahead and now sent only a small group of ten forward.

"What are you doing here, demon?" Roland called out. "Have you come to beg for forgiveness?"

Before him stood a man and two women, and behind them were several cloaked figures. None of them seemed bothered by his harsh tone.

He wondered why—until the man answered.

"We've come to speak with you, hero. Not in the name of the demons, but in the name of those like us. Halfs—part demon, part human—and others who were born and raised in this world. We don't agree with what the others have done, but we don't have the strength to oppose them. If you allow us to join you, we'll serve willingly."

The man spoke in fluent human language, not one the spirits had to translate. That alone meant he was cultured enough—and likely seeking common ground.

"We have a way to detect lies. Are you sure you want to be put to the test?" Roland shouted, casting a beam of light high into the sky. The mana he poured into it was enough to make most demons think twice.

"See for yourself, hero," the man replied calmly. "Our actions have not angered those who have blessed us."

Then, without hesitation, the demon cast an ice spell. Four icicles shot upward and exploded, creating a flurry of snow that drifted down—only to melt moments later into droplets under the warmth of the sun.

The display was beautiful—and rare. Few had ever seen a demon use magic, let alone elemental spells.

"I see… water-blessed," Roland observed. "What about the others?"

He wasn't about to accept them based on one person's performance.

"All of them," the man said firmly. "We are here to help you—not to live among you. We have our own families, hidden away. Just as you are wary of us, we are the same of you. But we need help."

Roland glanced back at his group. Some looked hesitant, others angry, but none objected or stepped forward to challenge his decision would be.

He turned to Renar and Stella. Renar gave a slow nod, signaling cautious approval. Stella, on the other hand, held a dangerous glint in her eyes, but when Roland met her gaze seriously, she sighed and relented.

"We need the help," she said at last. "If they pass the test, then… there shouldn't be any problems."

Renar agreed. "I believe the same. If the spirits are the ones judging them, we can trust the outcome."

Roland raised a hand, signaling for the two groups to meet in the middle. As he approached, he noticed more details about the man. His horns had been cut, his tail was hidden, and his wings were wrapped in bandages—as if he no longer took pride in what he was.

"Hero, I thank you for listening to our request. As for the group present, we are ready to be judged by the light. We were born in this world—we see it as our home, unlike those who were brought here only to destroy it for their own purposes."

Roland examined each demon standing before him. Every one of them had their horns cut, a silent gesture of sincerity.

He let Elios inspect them, even though the spirit clearly didn't want to. Elios didn't speak, but somehow, Roland still understood his thoughts and actions.

"You are all telling the truth," Roland announced. "One among you even bears the blessing of light. However, we will need to check the rest of your forces, just as we did with every person in our camp. No one is allowed inside without a proper check."

His tone was firm—commanding.

"That is acceptable, hero," the man replied. "All my vassals and warriors are loyal. Test them twice if needed. Now then, allow me to introduce myself. Zavar is my demon name. Harris is my human one. That is all you need to know for now."

Roland gave a brief nod.

"So why exactly have you come? And why bring nearly five hundred troops? Who do you intend to fight—and why?"

Zavar cleared his throat before replying.

"I was a king once—dethroned, and my kingdom lost. I will help you, hero. In return, I seek to reclaim my position and rebuild. For now, that is all you need to know."

Roland wanted to ask which kingdom he had ruled, and why a half-demon had been dethroned, but decided now wasn't the time.

"Fine," he said at last. "We'll accept you for now—but you'll make camp outside the walls.

"The people still don't trust your kind—and as you can imagine, this will prevent unnecessary problems on our side," Roland added.

Zavar already seemed to understand and nodded without protest.

"That is all we ask for. We shall make camp in the area you assign us. Once we're settled, if you wish to hear the strategies we've prepared, you're welcome to call a meeting."

Roland gave a short nod as they began returning. It was near the camp's edge when he summoned the light meant to inspect every demon present. They passed through it slowly, one by one. So far, no one was marked by Elios—and that remained true until the very last figure stepped forward.

A young demon girl, her red skin scarred, walked hesitantly. She looked bruised and worn.

"This one… doesn't have magic," Roland said aloud, his voice aimed more at Zavar than anyone else.

"She has her reasons," Zavar replied. "Her name is Nahira. She was forced to relinquish her powers after being captured… barely rescued before she could be abused. Please forgive her attitude, hero. She's a succubus, so even without mana, she may cause trouble by other means."

Before Roland could respond, the girl shot Zavar an annoyed look.

"Quit talking like I'm not here. I'm old enough to speak for myself."

Her voice was sharp, defiant, with a spark of fire behind it.

"So… you're the hero, huh? Just a kid like me. You're the one who liberated this place? Funny. I was tortured here, you know… This fortress, to be precise. All because my mother refused to submit."

She crossed her arms, her voice bitter but composed.

"Anyway, I'm half-demon too. I just… don't have a blessing anymore."

Roland studied her for a few seconds. He didn't sense evil intent—nor did he feel any lingering divine presence. Still, her boldness threw him off.

"Alright. I guess that's everyone checked," he said at last. "We'll hold a meeting in two hours. That should give you enough time to settle your people. As for food—we'll provide the first ration. After that, use your own supplies. Everyone here earns their meals, and you'll be expected to do the same."

Zavar bowed low in thanks before turning to return to the half-demons' new camp.

"Well," Roland said, turning to the others, "we'd better inform the rest. Stella, tell your father. We need to set clear boundaries. There are people in the fortress who hate demons… and they won't take kindly to having them this close."

He glanced at Renar, who already seemed prepared.

"Don't worry," Renar said with a casual yawn. "I'll get things moving. Just keep your eyes open."