Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Lancet was first hit with the scent of a smelling herb as he began to regain his consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly to squint at the very bright lights above him on the ceiling.

”Oh, you’re awake.”

Nurse Hallow stood at the foot of his bed, looking as apathetic as ever while she tapped away on a floating crystal terminal. ”That’s an extra 1,000 Profits added to your debt. Congratulations.”

Lancet groaned, clutching his chest as he slowly forced himself into a sitting position. His entire body felt like it had been run over by a speeding car.

”Ugh,” Lancet rasped, rubbing his temples. ”RIP my credit score, I guess.”

Nurse Hallow didn’t know what he was talking about, but she paused her tapping. Glancing curiously at him, her brow furrowed slightly.

”I noticed the system registered a 500-profit deduction from your original debt balance. How exactly did you get that much Profits in just a few days?”

Lancet stretched his stiff neck, offering a weak, lopsided grin. ”Well, I performed pretty well in the Dungeon Clearing expedition today. I was the MVP.”

Nurse Hallow stared at him for a long, flat moment.

”Is that so?” she deadpanned.

She clearly didn’t believe a single word.

To her, Lancet was just the fragile, Grace-less Dull Rank who was at least smart enough to arrive early for a Purification Bath. Although stupid enough to let himself be poisoned for that long.

Because she rarely left the confines of the clinic, she was completely insulated from the Academy’s rumor mill, the Competitions, and whoever was victor of the competitions.

She probably assumed he had won it in a bet. Most likely, that was why he’d been beaten up. Perhaps the students who lost were sore losers, and this Dull Rank kid was an easy target to vent on.

Nurse Hallow sighed, clipping the terminal to her belt. ”You should be careful, Mr. Leogardt. It seems you are getting yourself into far too much trouble. Whoever is the reason you got sent here this time could have easily killed you.”

Lancet frowned, looking down at his hands. ”It felt like my soul got ripped out.”

”Close,” Nurse Hallow explained, adjusting her glasses. ”They didn’t strike your physical body. They struck your shadow, forcing a severe sympathetic shock directly into your nervous system.”

Lancet’s eyes widened in realization.

So that’s what happened! Nereus Grimlake was a Shadowmancer. He had used a hidden, instantaneous shadow technique to attack Lancet’s silhouette.

Because the use of powers outside of designated duels and Dungeons was strictly punished by the Academy, Nereus had used a method that left zero physical evidence.

He must have sent one of his shadows to do it, while he stood there. That way no one saw him make the strike and he could not be punished for anything.

That ingenious bastard.

Lancet slid off the edge of the crisp white bed, his legs steadying beneath him. He tested his lips, neck and waist, making sure that every part of his body was functioning as normal.

”I suppose I should advise you,” Nurse Hallow continued after watching him for a moment. ”Try to make friends, maybe some seniors. It wouldn’t hurt to have allies in higher places. Everything in this Academy is about politics; who you know, and who you can reach. If you want to survive here, you have to make friends.”

Lancet gazed at her momentarily, admiring her mute, serene features, before looking away, hoping he hadn’t been staring too much.

”Thanks for healing me, Nurse Hallow,” he said with a polite nod. ”And thanks for the advice.”

As he walked out the double doors of the clinic and into the bustling Academy corridors, a confident smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

No need to make friends in high places, Lancet thought, pulling his collar up. I can create them whenever I want.

He headed towards the Summoner-D homeroom, and once arriving, Lancet opened the door, causing Ms Maecil’s teaching to pause.

Every single head in the room snapped toward him. Patton looked away nervously. Vera stared at her desk. Kasto and Anita let out synchronized sighs of relief.

Lancet ignored the heavy stares, walking down the aisle and sliding into his usual seat in the back row.

At the front of the class, Ms. Maecil watched him with softened eyes.

”Are you feeling better, Lancet?” she asked gently.

”Yes, ma’am,” Lancet replied, offering a reassuring nod. ”Good as new.”

”Glad to hear it,” she smiled, before sharply clapping her hands together to regain the room’s attention. ”Now! Back to the core curriculum. Giving your Summons orders in the heat of battle requires absolute clarity of intent. You cannot afford to stutter when a beast is charging. Your Will must be a direct tether...”

Lancet half-listened, his mind already thinking about his future Heroines.

He had made up his mind. When he had enough Creativity Points after the next Dungeon Clearing, he would create Thor. But Nurse Hallow had also given him the idea for his next Heroine after Thor.

Rather than befriending the seniors in order to get some protection, he can create a Heroine who’s also a senior. Preferably, she would be in the Summoner Class Group.

And she has to be in Summoner-A which would mean she would be Nereus’s senior, and under Lancet’s design, she’d be even more powerful than him.

The Heroine would be his first bound Summon.

This meant she wouldn’t reside in a Summon Space like Astensia, but she would live like a normal person of this time and will be bound to do Lancet’s bidding by some sort of contract.

Like Demon Binders, Spirit Callers and other Summoner Classes with externally-existing summons.

The future was exciting, and Lancet wished Dungeon Clearing expeditions could happen more often so he could farm lots of CP.

When the bell finally rang, the students quickly packed their bags, casting a few more lingering glances at Lancet before filing out into the hallway.

”Lancet,” Ms. Maecil called out over the scraping of chairs. ”A word, please?”

Lancet slung his bag over his shoulder and walked up to the instructor’s podium. He braced himself, fully expecting a lecture about provoking the Top 1 student of Summoner-B in the middle of the cafeteria.

Instead, Maecil looked at him with an expression of profound, genuine guilt.

”I want to apologize to you, Lancet,” she said softly, placing her hands flat on her desk. ”I completely underestimated you. I undervalued your potential, and I treated you like a frail, helpless boy who needed to be protected. I was wrong.”

Lancet blinked, momentarily speechless. ”Ms. Maecil, you don’t have to—”

”I do,” she insisted, her eyes shining with fierce pride. ”You beat Renan Falconhart. You scored the highest points in the entire First Year block today.”

”For that, thank you, Lancet. Thank you for making Summoner-D proud. For the first time in years, the other Class Groups looked at us with more respect.”

Lancet half-smiled. ”I mean, Min Tu also was a huge part of it.”

Ms Maecil laughed. ”Yes she was.” Her eyes glistened with profound happiness. ”I can’t really believe it. I feel like with the two of you and some of the others, Summoner-D really stands a chance this Academy Year.”

Lancet gazed into her eyes. She reached out and gave his shoulder a firm, encouraging squeeze.

”Don’t listen to the whispers,” she advised warmly. ”Don’t let the bullies or the elite students get into your head. Just focus on your bond with Astensia.

”Nurture that connection. She is a miracle, and together, you can achieve greatness.”

Lancet nodded slowly. She didn’t even suspect that Astensia was just the first file in his expanding folder of legends. Who would have?

Yes, he had the ’time traveling ladder’ but with a low Grace Retention, it was normal to expect that not many legends could be reached.

”I will. Thank you, Ms. Maecil.”

As Lancet left the classroom and stepped out into the corridors, he felt a strange warmth blooming in his chest.

A new realization of sorts.

Lancet hadn’t really cared much about the Academy’s politics so far. To him, clearing the Dungeons and other future competitions was only for his personal goals.

To get CP, EXP and Profits to pay off his debt and enjoy what Awakener Supreme had to offer.

But hearing Maecil’s heartfelt words changed something. He thought about Phiodor Blaze’s smug, condescending sneer.

He thought about the Elementalists and Specialists who treated Summoners like glorified dog-walkers.

They looked down on the Summoner Class Group exactly the same way others looked down on him.

As Lancet headed to the dorms, he turned around and looked up at the towering spires of the Awakener Supreme Institute, his silver-blonde hair catching the wind.

If they’re going to undermine my Class Group, Lancet decided, his eyes narrowing with newfound competitive fire, then maybe I should just drag the Summoners to the absolute top of this Academy.

Let’s see how much they laugh when we’re looking down on them.