The laughter echoed through the grand hall, each mocking voice like a dagger to Kuro's chest.
"Unmeasurable? More like useless."
"Even the gods didn't bother giving him a class. That's just sad."
Kuro kept his expression blank, but deep inside, something twisted. He had expected disappointment, maybe even some ridicule, but this…
This was outright rejection.
The priest who had conducted the appraisal turned toward the grand throne at the top of the hall. There, a regal man sat in ornate robes, a golden crown resting atop his head. His face, once welcoming, now held only cold indifference.
"Your Majesty… what shall we do with this one?"
The king didn't even hesitate.
"A hero with no class or blessing is of no use to the kingdom." His voice was firm, absolute. He turned to the knights standing at the side of the room. "Strip him of his title and remove him from the palace immediately."
The knights stepped forward.
Kuro's classmates stared, some with pity, most with amusement.
"Damn, even the king doesn't want him."
"He's getting kicked out before the tutorial even starts."
He clenched his fists. He had done nothing wrong. He had been summoned just like the others. And now, he was being cast aside like garbage?
"Wait!"
Airi's voice rang out.
Kuro's breath caught. He turned to see her stepping forward, eyes conflicted. Was she… standing up for him?
"He was summoned just like us," she said hesitantly. "Even if his class is unknown, maybe there's still a way for him to—"
"Airi," Hiroshi Tanaka, the self-proclaimed leader of the class, placed a hand on her shoulder. He was the one who had received the Sword Saint class—powerful, respected, a natural leader.
"There's no point wasting time on him," Hiroshi said coolly. "You saw the results. He's not one of us."
Airi bit her lip, hesitating.
Kuro stared at her, waiting—hoping—for her to say something.
To fight for him.
To tell everyone that he wasn't useless.
That he mattered.
But then, she looked away.
"...I understand," she murmured.
Kuro felt something inside him shatter.
"I see," he whispered under his breath.
The guards grabbed his arms roughly.
"Wha—Hey! Let go!" Kuro struggled, but their grip was too strong. His classmates just watched as he was dragged across the marble floor, past the grand doors.
No one stopped them.
No one spoke for him.
As the doors slammed shut behind him, the laughter and whispers were finally cut off.
But in that silence, only one thought remained in Kuro's mind.
I will never forgive them.
---
Deep Beneath the Palace…
The guards hauled Kuro down a dark, damp corridor. The once-grand palace above had given way to cold stone walls, the air thick with the scent of rot and decay.
"Enjoy your new home, 'hero,'" one of the knights sneered as they shoved him forward.
He stumbled, falling to his knees as a heavy iron door creaked open.
"This is where failures like you belong," the knight spat before shoving him inside. The door slammed shut, followed by the loud clank of a lock sliding into place.
Kuro slowly pushed himself up, taking in his surroundings. The room was small, barely large enough to stretch his legs. Chains dangled from the walls, and the only light came from a single barred window high above.
His hands trembled.
This wasn't just exile.
They had thrown him away to die.
Was this really how it ended? Summoned to another world, discarded in a dungeon, left to rot?
…No.
No.
He refused to accept this.
Just then, a voice echoed in his mind.
> [Error detected. System recalibrating…]
Kuro's eyes widened.
> [Unique skill awakened: Necromancer.]
A dark aura flickered around his hands. A foreign power—cold, sinister, and overwhelming—began coursing through his veins.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
He smiled.
> [Unique skill awakened: Necromancer.]
He stared at the words floating in his vision. His mind raced.
A skill.
Not just any skill—a unique one.
The same system that had labeled him as "unmeasurable" had now granted him something extraordinary.
His heartbeat quickened. If he had a skill, did that mean the appraisal was wrong? Did he have a class after all?
Kuro focused, trying to access more details.
> [Skill: Necromancer]
Allows the user to summon and command the dead. Currently inactive. Conditions for activation have not been met.
Kuro frowned.
Inactive?
He clenched his fists. He had finally gained something, yet he couldn't even use it?
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy.
Even so… this changed everything.
Kuro exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think. The kingdom had abandoned him, locked him away, and planned to let him rot. He couldn't rely on anyone.
But now, he had power.
It wasn't usable yet, but that didn't matter.
Because power was still power.
And one day, he would make them regret ever throwing him away.
---
Days in the Darkness
Time in the dungeon blurred together. There were no windows, only the dim torchlight flickering beyond the iron bars.
No food.
No water.
No explanation.
The guards didn't even bother checking on him. He was nothing to them. Less than a prisoner—just a discarded failure waiting to die.
His throat was dry. His stomach twisted in hunger.
But the pain wasn't enough to break him.
Kuro forced himself to stay alert. He had to be ready. For what, he didn't know. But if an opportunity came, he wouldn't let it slip away.
Then, after what felt like forever, footsteps echoed down the stone hallway.
Kuro sat up as the iron door creaked open.
A figure stepped inside.
He wasn't a knight. His black robes, embroidered with gold, gave him an air of authority. His sharp eyes studied Kuro with mild amusement, as if observing a bug struggling to crawl.
Kuro didn't recognize him, but instinct told him this man was important.
The man smirked. "You must be wondering why you're still alive."
Kuro didn't respond. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
The man chuckled. "Normally, those without blessings are… disposed of quietly. However, His Majesty has a different plan for you."
Kuro narrowed his eyes.
"You will undergo training. You will fight alongside the heroes. Your status may be uncertain, but the kingdom does not waste resources. If you prove useful, you may still serve a purpose."
Kuro stiffened.
A chance.
He was being given a chance.
Did that mean he could still become something? A soldier? A warrior?
He clenched his fists.
This was his way out.
The man turned to leave. "Your training begins tomorrow. Do not disappoint us."
The door slammed shut, leaving Kuro alone once more.
He exhaled, his thoughts racing.
They weren't throwing him away.
They were giving him a chance to prove himself.
He wouldn't waste it.
But what Kuro didn't know was that the king had no intention of letting him rise. His so-called "second chance" was nothing more than a calculated move—one that ensured Kuro remained useful for as long as necessary… and disposable when the time came.