Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

The day arrived at last!

Lancet woke up excited and full of life. He had drunk up the last dregs of magical energy supplements and after Separation, was full to the brim once again with 250 MP of Grace.

Luke was the first to leave as always, while Kasto and Anita were nervously wandering about, putting their clothes on slowly.

Lancet thought it was an unexpected surprise that they were still this weak and fearful after almost two weeks. Since they were both Radiant-Ranked, he thought they would be fairing better by now.

But then again, it sometimes took time for new students to get their groove.

Kasto’s first summon, which he named Metalhead, was a mecha that could shoot out its head and fists with supersonic speed at targets. It was as tall as a simple bungalow and wide enough to scare threats away.

But Metalhead was still a young mecha, and hadn’t gotten full control of its powers yet. Kasto was nervous as hell because he wanted to contribute more to the Class’s Tributes and was worried he’d fail dramatically.

Anita’s summon was a combat doll she named Nita. It took her a while to perfectly animate the doll and input both her will and the powers called threads of energy.

But with the help of a senior—a fellow Puppeteer—who had taken a liking for her, she was able to complete Nita. The puppet summon had blade magic, so it could create sharp knives out of anywhere. It was pretty good at combat too, and even better with a sword.

This was the first Dungeon Clearing expedition for Nita after her complete creation so Anita was nervous about it.

Before leaving, Lancet had assured them that they would do great. He gave them two pieces of advice.

”One. Know your Summon’s strengths and weaknesses before entering. A Tank Summon like your mecha, Kasto, could take hits from the beasts in the Basic Dungeons. That allows an Infiltrator like Anita’s puppet to take down as many preoccupied beasts as possible.”

”Two. Use your body sometimes. Yes. YOU. It’s not completely true that Summoners don’t need muscles, Kasto. We’re gonna have to fight sometimes, and in order to draw attention from our Summons, we have to step in at certain situations.”

After that, he left the dorm, leaving Kasto and Anita surprised by his sudden knowledge about Summons and Summoning battle tactics.

Later that morning, everyone was gathered in the Dungeon Hall once again. The Year Ones were lined up perfectly in their respective Class Groups—Elementalists, Specialists, Enchanters, and Summoners—waiting to be assigned into different Gates.

Lancet stood comfortably near the front of the Summoner-D line. He felt more assured in himself now than a week ago. Even though it was just a little bit, his muscles had grown from leveling up, his other attributes were slightly increased.

But more importantly, he and Astensia were united more than ever.

Phiodor Blaze, the Head Elementalist Instructor, stalked over to the Summoner section, his fiery cape dramatically flowing behind him. He stopped beside Ms. Maecil, a smug, cruel smile twisting his features.

”I hope you enjoyed your little fluke last week, Maecil,” Phiodor sneered, his voice loud enough for the middle rows of students to hear. ”But lightning does not strike the same spot twice. You should prepare yourself to be utterly disgraced today. The Elementalists have recalibrated. We will not be humiliated by a parlor trick from a Dull Rank.”

Maecil refused to be intimidated. A week ago, she might have. A week ago, she would have wrung her hands and looked away. Today, she simply adjusted her glasses, her eyes locking coldly onto Phiodor’s.

”A parlor trick? Hah. A party trick doesn’t score one thousand, eight hundred and forty-one points, Phiodor,” Maecil replied, taunting and proud.

Phiodor grimaced. ”You memorized the score?”

Maecil placed her hands on her waist. ”Of course I memorized the score. He’s my student, and I’m proud of him! Perhaps you should spend less time worrying about my students, and more time actually teaching yours.”

Phiodor’s face flushed a deep, violent red, but before he could snap back, the magically amplified voice of the Head Dungeon Instructor boomed through the hall.

”Silence in the ranks!”

The scarred, one-armed veteran stepped up to the edge of the dais, his sharp eyes sweeping over the sea of freshmen.

”Listen closely,” the instructor barked. ”The Basic Dungeons you entered last week were meant to test your baseline aptitude. For most of you, you’ll continue with the Basic Dungeon until the month is over. For others, the training wheels are coming off.”

He eyed Renan Falconhart and Lancet. ”Based on the exceptional and, frankly, terrifying results of last week’s expedition, the curriculum is being split.”

A wave of confused murmuring washed over the students.

”Like I said, the majority of you will remain assigned to the Basic Dungeons to continue your fundamental training,” the instructor continued, raising his hand to quiet them. ”But seven of you have proven that the Basic Dungeons offer zero educational value to your growth. For these seven, you will be advancing to the Higher Dungeons.”

The hall erupted into shocked whispers. Advancing to the Higher Dungeons in the second week? Wasn’t that dangerous?

The students didn’t know whether to be jealous and relieved. The beasts inside Higher Dungeons had higher stats, but they also possessed intelligence, could actually control elements, and carried lethal intent.

”When I call your name, step out of your line and climb up the stairs to the Higher Dungeons floor,” the instructor commanded. ”Renan Falconhart.”

The crowd parted as the Heavenly Knight stepped forward, his silver armor gleaming under the magical lights. He looked entirely unfazed. As usual, the girls stared, stricken by his plot-created aura and his blade-sharp jawline.

”Lancet Leogardt.”

Lancet let out a slow breath and stepped out of the Summoner line. Students murmured, giving him stares of awe and resentment. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kallan Kallahan and the Temperature Twins glaring at him, promising trouble.

Lancet ignored them and walked toward the front.

”Min Tu Akaran. Frieda Castleloft. Amira Vineheart. Deron Darc. And Sienna Starbridge.”

As the seven elite freshmen gathered in the Higher Dungeon floor, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted.

The m doors at the far end of the hall groaned open, causing the ambient chatter of the students to die instantly.

Footsteps echoed against the marble.

To everyone’s surprise, Dean Ordenance walked into the Dungeon Hall. He wore deep, midnight-blue robes embroidered with silver constellations.

His hands were clasped behind his back, and his piercing, intelligent eyes scanned the room before settling entirely on the seven students standing in the Higher Dungeon floor.

”The Dean?” a student in the Enchanter line whispered frantically. ”He never comes to the weekly expeditions. He only shows up for the Mid-Year finals!”

”Why is he here?” another muttered. ”Is it to watch Falconhart?”

Lancet swallowed hard, keeping his posture rigid. He knew exactly why the Dean was here. The ”ladder to the past” conversation was still hanging heavily between them.

Ordenance was likely here to see Astensia Valengard for himself, and watch Lancet and her in action.