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

It wasn't even a few hours before war was upon them. Every weapon had been prepared, magicians and archers were positioned along the fortress walls, and visible lines of enemy troops approached in the distance.

This time, the demons were well-armored and clearly ready to fight.

Roland didn't like it. He had grown used to the demons taking things lightly. Now, he wondered if Norelli had planned this all along. The vampire, however, was already helping him discreetly plant mana stones across the battlefield.

Each would explode after a set time, but only when the battle reached its peak.

As for Roland, he stood at the front of the line, ready to fight before the eyes of all his soldiers. He had to put on the best display possible and rally them for the battle ahead.

In truth, he only had his bombs and close-combat skills. Nothing else was syncing well for him today. He hoped Renar would come up with something, but without knowing the enemy's exact numbers and facing a terrain disadvantage, his best strategist had simply told him to wing it.

It wasn't all bad, though. Even with thousands of demons, they were close to the Light Spirit's domain, and that wasn't going to fall anytime soon.

"Well then, everyone, get ready!" Roland called out. "I'm not the best at speeches, but I'll say this: we will win today. They'll run like cowards. Just look at the,m no vampires on the front lines. They're afraid of what I can do to them. So, focus on winning… We will be victorious!"

Roland sighed as he finished. He hoped the words meant something to his people. He would've written poetry or practiced if he had known he'd be leading thousands, but life hadn't given him that chance.

And yet, he wasn't here to embellish words. All he needed was to show his might, and that was what he was ready to do.

He spotted three important figures in the distance. One of them was a vampire, while the other two were among the largest demons he had ever seen.

The first demon genral had a stone embedded in his blue-skinned chest. He wore no armor, as if to flaunt his strength and readiness for combat. The second, in contrast, was clad in heavy plated armor that made his nearly two-and-a-half-meter frame look like it was built to break mountains.

Roland felt his hand tremble slightly.

He quickly shook it off, recalling the fight with Targo Grivoss, the general who had made him lose his power.

But he would not make that mistake again.

This time, he would show no mercy. Before they could unleash any of their treacherous tricks, he would be ready to blow them all to pieces.

Soon, the demons halted their march. Siege weapons were readied, and their lines were carefully formed, as if they were just waiting for the trumpets to sound before tearing through he fields to get to Roland.

A full kilometer separated the two forces.

Roland waited. He wasn't going to make the first move, not this time.

He would hold his ground, hoping that every second bought was another moment for the mages and warriors behind him to recover.

There were still a few who needed time to restore their mana after the long journey, while others were still healing from the previous battle.

It was then that the heavily armored demon stepped forward, walking alone toward the center of the field. Roland stood in place, waiting to see what he intended.

Only when the demon reached the middle did Roland understand he wanted a one-on-one fight. With a simple wave of his hand, he called out to Roland without a word.

Roland nodded. He had wanted one of these encounters for a long time, an honorable duel. And though he welcomed it, he was confident of the outcome. There was no way a demon without mana would defeat him.

He placed his helmet on, ready for battle, and raised his hand. The army behind him erupted into cheers. It started small, only a few voices at first, but quickly grew into a unified chant.

"Roland! Roland! Roland!"

From across the field, the demons responded in kind, shouting the name of their champion.

"Arnak! Arnak the Undying!"

It seemed this opponent would not be easily defeated, but that didn't stop Roland. He mounted his bird and rode toward the center. Then, halfway there, he dismounted and walked the rest of the way on foot.

It was just the two of them, half a kilometer apart on either side, staring each other down. The demon wore a wide, confident grin, while Roland stood firm, taking his stance and the situation seriously.

"Tell me, why come here on all days? Was it the explosions I set off in your capital?" Roland asked, genuinely wanting to know if that was what had provoked them.

He received no answer.

"You'll have to fight me to find out, kid. It won't be easy, I can promise you that," the demon finally replied.

Roland gave a small nod. He had no intention of dragging things out if Arnak wasn't interested in talking.

"Then I'll just have to do that. Let's begin. No point in wasting time or breath. Just make sure you don't die before telling me."

They began circling each other, neither rushing to strike first.

Roland, growing impatient after half a rotation, suddenly lunged forward and threw a punch infused with light energy, aimed directly at Arnak's chest.

He wasn't trying to inflict serious harm he simply wanted to see how the demon would react.

Arnak didn't disappoint. He countered with a punch of his own, grazing Roland's cheek by a hair's breadth.

But it was nothing. Roland brushed the spot with a little healing magic; not even blood had been drawn.

What he did notice was the demon's experience. His counters weren't just fast they were efficient, executed with precision and ease.

This only made Roland more curious. How had humans, who had access to magic and centuries of development, been beaten by a race that neither received the spirits' blessings nor possessed a class to boost their power?

"I see I've given you even more to wonder about, hero. Try dodging these, then."

The demon launched a flurry of kicks, twisting his body with a fluidity that would make even a Shaolin monk seem clumsy by comparison.

He didn't let up. His momentum was like a spinning top unleashed with the power of a motor. The weight of his armor only made each strike heavier, more devastating.

And they had to be, every blow was being countered by a ward.

Roland produced magical barriers that prevented the demon from landing a clean hit, each attack bouncing off with a sound like glass cracking.

"Nice shields," Arnak said with a grin, "but how long can you keep them up, hero? I'm not wasting any mana here. But I know this: if you don't end it soon, you will. And trust me… my two friends have no equal in your army."

Roland looked past the demon and spotted the two figures he had referred to.

"Guess I'll just have to get serious then."

Without hesitation, Roland tossed his weapon aside. To take on this behemoth, he needed to use his real one. He drew a two-handed sword designed specifically for fights like this, its blade embedded with several light-element mana stones. Though the weapon had been crafted to deal with vampires, it still held devastating potential when powered by Roland's mana.

As he poured energy into it, the blade began to glow, pulsing with golden light as he activated his skill: Solar Edge.

Arnak could no longer fight as he had before. He felt it was one solid hit from that blade, and he'd lose a limb.

But he wasn't out of options. Years of combat experience guided him. He shifted tactics, aiming to strike after each of Roland's swings.

The hero was dangerous, especially when wielding weapons, but his inexperience still showed. This wasn't a matter of a few years; it was a gap of centuries. Arnak had been among the first demons summoned, and even before that, he had lived nearly five hundred years. Combined, he carried close to a millennium of skill in using his body to its fullest.

He dodged each slash by mere millimeters, answering with precise jabs and powerful kicks. But the kid's defenses were exceptional.

Arnak could tell Roland wasn't alone in managing those defenses. It was likely his spirit, crafting the defensive wards for him, blocking every counter and protecting him at just the right moment.

"Two against one. I can already see how this ends," Arnak muttered.

He leapt back several meters, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"It was fun, hero. But I don't play losing games. You've earned my respect for now. But neither of us is the true main actor in this fight. It's our armies. Let's see if you can survive the waves we've brought."

He paused, his tone turning cold.

"And as for your earlier question, the answer is simple. We just want the princess back. We know you took her."

Arnak stared at Roland with sharp focus. His demeanor shifted from that of a seasoned fighter enjoying a clean duel to a warrior fighting for a cause.