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

Roland was not a doctor, nor did he ever intend to become one. He was just a simple man who loved to fight if anything, he was still a boy in that regard.

What the spirit asked of him, though, was something else entirely. Something just plain nasty.

[Hurry up. Plunge your hand near his heart and crush his core. I'll mend it with my power just enough so that he doesn't die.]

Those words made him shudder the second time he heard them.

He was actually scared. He had killed countless demons already, but never harmed an ally before.

The prince, however, met his gaze with an unyielding resolution and unwavering resolve, an acceptance that showed he didn't mind whatever the spirit had told Roland to do.

"Damn it… just don't die on me."

Roland had Renar hold the prince from behind, with someone maintaining a silent ward around them and two healers positioned nearby.

They were going to do this all at once.

He took a deep breath, then stabbed Lucien in the chest. His bare hand pierced and slid through easily; it was sharpened further by a layer of light magic.

Bile rose in his throat, but he forced it down as he reached further inside the man's body. It felt disgusting, but it had to be done.

Soon, his fingers found the core just where Elios had told him.

He pinched it hard, making it shatter instantly, like glass breaking apart.

Now it was Elios's turn. The spirit began to heal the core, slowly reconstructing it while infusing just enough light magic to make it believe a spirit still resided within. As for the light spirit that had been parasitized, it had died the moment the core cracked.

Roland could feel his spirit's fury through their bond. It made him want to lash out, to purge every demon and half-blood nearby, even the allies. But he calmed himself.

Finally, he withdrew his hand from Lucien's chest. The prince stopped breathing for a few seconds before Roland and the healers rushed to close the wound as quickly as they could.

"Alright, give him a light jolt. He'll need it to wake up."

One of the half-bloods who specialized in electric magic released a quick jolt that made the prince's body twitch slightly.

And yet, he didn't wake up, not even a wince.

"Damn it, CPR… No. No way, I'm not kissing him. You demon girl, tell me, did you sleep with this guy?"

The girl, clearly shaken, gave a small, nervous, and embarrassed nod.

"Then get over here. I need you to do some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, get his lungs moving again, so he can start breathing."

The girl, Morrag, didn't fully understand at first, but when she saw Lucien lying there motionless, she nodded and moved forward.

Roland quickly explained the procedure, and she followed his instructions. At the same time, he told the half-blood to prepare another jolt.

"Alright, work with me. We're doing this in order. Jolt, pump, and you breathe into him."

All three moved in sync. Within seconds, the prince began to cough right as Morrag, with tears in her eyes, stopped breathing into him and simply kissed him.

"Good. You survived, you lucky bastard," Roland muttered. "Now let's move. We've got to get you back to the Light Spirit's temple so you can fully recover."

He turned to Morrag. "You'll have to hold on to him. I'll heal you this time, so you can last."

Seeing no ill intent in her and feeling the spirit's presence behind her, Roland healed Morrag swiftly, then helped secure Lucien onto the large bird so they could begin the next phase of their journey.

Without the tracking device, it would be easier to pass through the demon-controlled zones and avoid the harshest parts of the mountain. And so they moved through rough terrain and icy winds for two straight days.

Eventually, they reached the first fort, where the assembled human army awaited them.

This was not the kind of welcome they had hoped for. It meant something had happened or was about to.

Roland pushed the group forward. Some wanted to slow down and rest now that they were so close, but they quickly understood the situation was far from safe.

"Renar, is there any word on why everyone's acting like this?" Roland asked. There should have been at least two scouts capable of flight or with flying companions who could've sent word ahead of their arrival.

"The demons are organizing," Renar replied. "They're coming in large numbers. The first wave was repelled just a day ago, but the army knows an even larger force is on its way, expected to arrive within hours. We've got to hurry and assess the situation."

Roland nodded grimly. They had only survived because of the alternative routes they'd taken, but the real danger was just beginning.

Those three bombs he had placed near the castle had been a warning. It was like telling the demons: If you don't move, I will.

And while that had been his intention, it wasn't meant to provoke the overwhelming numbers now marching toward them.

He had hoped to wipe out tens of thousands in skirmishes before the final battle, not face hundreds of thousands all at once, not at the speed they were now arriving.

Two more hours passed before they reached the fortress.

Roland wanted nothing more than to embrace his lover and spend a comfortable afternoon together, but time didn't allow it. She immediately took her brother and rushed toward the Light Spirit's forest.

As for her father, he gave Roland a firm pat on the back, nothing more. His face was serious, as it had to be.

The next few days would be a matter of life or death for both the army and his son.

Word had already arrived: the first wave of demons numbered no less than two hundred thousand, a mix of vampires, demons, slaves, and mercenaries of every kind.

"We'll need to play the siege game at the start, exhaust their artillery and ward mages before the real fight begins," Renar said as he studied several maps spread across the table.

Roland glanced over them as well. Markers had been placed to show what the aerial reconnaissance unit had already scouted.

"Do or die, huh… Four hours until the show. Fine, let me see what I can cook up. I'll need more mana crystals. I just hope the miners found enough for me to use…"

He knew the supply lines were already stretched thin. The miners, who had worked tirelessly for years, were all but exhausted, and the mine itself had little left to offer.

Still, Roland had a plan: arm the ballistae, catapults, and trebuchets with light-empowered crystals that would explode on impact, the same ones that cause the demons to go in a frenzy.

He only hoped it would be enough to either disrupt the demons' formation or kill enough of them to allow him to charge forward and clean up the rest.

Without wasting time, Roland began gathering materials and called on Elios and Norelli for help. The vampire had played a major role in the capital's earlier explosions, and Roland knew he was invaluable for this task.

Time slipped away quickly. At times, his hands even quivered from the strain of magic he was pouring into each crystal, but he couldn't stop.

He needed to refine every stone to the highest level, all while making sure he could still recover enough mana on time for the coming battle.

When the war drums and horns finally sounded, Roland had completed enough for the initial volley.

To make it happen, he had been forced to promise the damn vampire a favor and grant Elios a future right in exchange for their cooperation. But the results were worth it.

As a fighter, Roland was capable of wreaking havoc in close combat but what he was about to unleash today would be on an entirely different scale.

And if the demons didn't retreat?

Then the next few days would show them just how far he was willing to go.

He was even starting to suspect that one or two of the so-called generals might show up here.

The only reason they had ignored Roland so far was that they were too busy fighting each other.

That worked in his favor. It would give him the time to grow stronger, strong enough to pick them off one by one later, once he truly regained his powers and advanced to his next class.

"Roland, we need to start moving out," Renar called from behind him.

In front of Roland lay dozens of orbs, amplified stones encased in heavy spiked chains that would function like shrapnel when they exploded.

They were a side project Arvar had been working on for the past few weeks.

Roland had long considered the idea of cannonballs, but in this world, the concept of gunpowder had never developed. There had simply never been a need, not when humans could wield magic that was ten or even a hundred times more powerful.