I Was Summoned as the Weakest Hero, But I Awakened a Military System

Laughter echoed through the ruined cathedral.

It was not a gentle, holy sound. It was sharp, cold, and dripping with triumph. Goddess Viona threw her head back, her golden hair swaying as she laughed at the ceiling. The dust from the shattered pillars was still settling, and the smell of ozone and spilled blood hung heavy in the air, but she did not care.

She looked down at the three students standing before her.

Kenji Sato stood with his radiant sword lowered at his side, blood still dripping from his left forearm onto the polished marble. Beside him stood Ayanokoji, tall and upright, the black abyssal spear resting loosely in his right grip. To his left, Miyuki stood perfectly straight, holding her healing staff with both hands against her chest.

All three had glowing crimson gemstones resting over their flesh. Dark, vein-like lines pulsed across their skin, feeding straight into their mana pathways.

Their eyes were completely blank. No anger. No defiance. No fear. Just empty, glassy red dots staring into nothingness.

”Magnificent,” Viona purred, walking slowly down the altar steps.

She stopped in front of Ayanokoji. She reached out with a manicured hand, lifting his chin with two fingers. The boy who had spoken to her with cold, insolent logic—who had calmly broken down her military failures and looked into her eyes without a trace of respect—did not react at all. His skin was pale, his breath slow and rhythmic, like a machine waiting for an ignition switch.

”Where is your sharp tongue now, Hero Ayanokoji?” Viona mocked, her smile widening into a vicious grin. ”Where are your lectures on beyond-visual-range strikes? Where is your refusal?”

Ayanokoji did not blink. His lips parted, his voice flat and robotic. ”Awaiting divine directives, Master.”

Viona let out a delighted gasp. She released his chin and walked over to Miyuki. The girl’s face was stained with dry tears, but her expression was frozen in absolute obedience.

”And you,” Viona said, tapping Miyuki’s cheek lightly. ”The soft-hearted healer who wept for home. The girl who claimed she would rather die than point a staff at men from her world. Tell me, healer, will you heal my knights?”

”I exist only to preserve the holy host of Her Divinity,” Miyuki replied in an eerie monotone. ”All mana belongs to the Goddess.”

”Hear that, Belis?!” Viona shouted, turning toward the high altar where the Prime Minister was carefully picking his way through the rubble. ”They belong to me! Their bodies, their S-rank classes, their knowledge, and their souls!”

Belis bowed low, his hands trembling as he smoothed his red robes. ”A magnificent victory, Your Divinity. Truly, no mortal cunning can withstand your sacred authority.”

Behind them, the remaining seventeen summoned students were huddled against the shattered pews, surrounded by a ring of heavily armored paladins. Several of the girls were sobbing quietly, while the boys stared in sheer horror at their three strongest classmates. Paladins stood over them, black Torment Bands gleaming in their iron gauntlets, ready to clamp down on anyone who made a sudden move.

Viona turned her gaze toward the frightened crowd. Her presence was suffocating, glowing with radiant, overwhelming pressure.

”Look upon your leaders,” Viona commanded the trembling teenagers. ”They believed they could defy the deity who brought them across the stars. They thought their petty rules and contracts mattered in my realm. Now, they are elevated to true perfection. They feel no doubt. They feel no sorrow. They are the ultimate weapons of the Empire.”

She raised her hand toward the paladins.

”Affix the remaining bands,” Viona ordered coldly. ”Every vanguard, every elemental sorcerer, every archer in this room. By midday, I want twenty obedient champions marching under the imperial standard.”

”No! Please!” one of the A-rank mages screamed, scrambling backward against a collapsed bench. ”We’ll obey! We’ll fight! You don’t have to put those things on us!”

”Silence the cattle,” Viona said without even looking at him.

The paladins moved forward like iron statues. Screams, desperate shouts, and the sickening sound of metal thorns puncturing flesh echoed across the nave one after another. One by one, the red gemstones flared to life. One by one, the crying stopped, replaced by the dead, synchronized silence of twenty mind-wiped puppets.

Viona watched the process with deep satisfaction. She walked over to the grand arched windows of the cathedral, looking out toward the capital city below.

In the distance, beyond the rolling hills and deep forests, lay the western coast. Port Solis was still burning, and the smoke from her sunken galleons was still smudging the horizon. But the panic that had gripped her chest earlier was gone.

”John Smith thinks he has backed me into a corner,” Viona whispered, her golden eyes burning with cruel anticipation. ”He thinks because his iron toys can swim under the water, he has won.”

She spun around, facing her new vanguard.

Twenty S-rank, A-rank, and B-rank heroes stood in perfect formation. Kenji, Ayanokoji, and Miyuki stood at the very front, radiating immense magical power that had been completely unlocked from the constraints of human hesitation.

”Belis!” Viona commanded.

”Yes, Your Divinity!” the Prime Minister answered eagerly.

”Send an urgent dispatch to the mountain legions,” she declared, her voice ringing throughout the ruined holy hall. ”Tell them the retreat from the coast is canceled! We will not hide in the caves like frightened rats! We will hold the coastal plains!”

Belis hesitated for a fraction of a second. ”Lady Viona... but the enemy’s flying machines... their long-range thunder...”

”Let them fly!” Viona laughed, pointing at Ayanokoji. ”We now possess their exact tactical knowledge! Ayanokoji knows every weakness of their modern doctrine! He knows their supply limits, their detector ranges, and the precise rhythm of their strikes! With him as my battle calculator, and Kenji and the heroes as the vanguard, we will lure their ground forces onto the beaches and slaughter them where they stand!”

She stepped close to Ayanokoji again, leaning in until her golden hair brushed his shoulder.

”Ayanokoji,” she commanded softly.

”Yes, Master.”

”You will draw up a complete defensive campaign against the United States military,” Viona ordered, her lips curling into a triumphant sneer. ”You will expose their operational blind spots. You will tell my generals where to place our anti-magic circles, how to ambush their iron carriages, and how to bring down their flying birds. Do you understand?”

”Understood, Master,” Ayanokoji replied without a trace of soul in his voice.