Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Nereus was right. The journey to Hebthej was shorter than a fading breath.

In no time at all, Lancet heard the dropship’s pilot announce that they had arrived. Outside, the pristine, white-and-gold dropship drifted close to a sky that looked like blood smoke.

The clouds above Hebthej had rotted, becoming something like coagulated devilish red; a product of the Demons and their corruptive essence.

Below the ship, the once-verdant borderlands had been transformed into an infested, festering wasteland of black ash and purple sludge.

The dropship’s thrusters whined as it set down just outside the town’s outer limits, touching down in the center of a heavily fortified military encampment. This was the perimeter line, held barely intact by the Brigades and the Kingdom Rangers.

The Brigades—the world’s militarized police force—rushed frantically around the barricades. They wore dark, tactical uniforms that mixed modern ballistics with gothic tailoring.

Each of them were clad in reinforced trench coats that rose up to high, sweeping collars. Their hands were protected by spiked gauntlets and their feet by heavy steel-toed combat boots.

For weapons, they held ordinary guns, but some owned glowing special chain-shurikens that were used to capture fleeing criminals.

Standing at the forefront of the encampment, however, were the Kingdom Rangers. They looked like modernized knights, their armor a blend of flexible tactical mesh and ornate silver plating.

Each bore the proud, crest-stamped badge of the Kingdom of Aethelgard on their chest. Some wielding crackling halberds, some magical broadswords, while most held Graceblasters — special Grace-infused guns for harming Demons, beasts and rogue Awakeners.

Kingdom Rangers had many duties to the world. But on days like this, they were the elite task forces dedicated to securing perimeters around Demon Breaks, preventing the rot from spilling into neighboring cities, and fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Awakeners to clear the corruption.

As the ship touched down, desperate shouts echoed across the camp.

”They’re here! They’re here! Backup is finally here!”

”The kingdom has sent Awakeners!”

A grizzled Ranger spat onto the ashen ground, his grip tightening on the hilt of his broadsword. ”Don’t be too excited. From what I hear, they’re kids from the Academy.”

Once the dropship landed, its heavy ramp descended, letting out a hiss of pressure and venting thick clouds of white exhaust into the air. From the smoke, the twenty-one student Awakeners of the vanguard slowly stepped down.

Professor Wolfgar was still present, he led them down the ramp, his single eye sweeping over the desperate encampment. Behind him, the students followed, high-tier artifacts gleaming defiantly in contrast to the bleak, bloody light of the ruined world.

Vernon Heavenblum stepped out like a conquering prince, his elemental aura radiating heat. Valeria Bloodgood gripped her new spear, her eyes already scanning the horizon for targets, while Renan Falconhart descended with the stoic, focused posture of a true knight.

Lancet was just trying to not let the occasion get the best of him. He looked around, drinking in the sight of the military tents, the barbed barricades, and the exhausted faces of the Rangers and Brigaders.

This was the first major place in this world he had seen outside of the slums where he transmigrated into and the Academy walls.

He remembered reading about this exact scene in the novel—the blood-red sky, the introduction to the cool weapons used by the Brigades and the Rangers.

Seeing it play out in front of him was an indescribable, surreal feeling that made his heart pound against his ribs.

Two men hurriedly approached Wolfgar. It was immediately apparent that Brigade Commander Thornson—a burly man with a mustache and a smoking carbine slung over his shoulder—and Head Kingdom Ranger Durmon—a tall, austere man whose silver armor was charred black with demon blood—were aggressively butting heads over who was actually calling the shots.

”You the ones they sent to clear this Break?” Head Ranger Durmon spoke like a demand.

”I am Professor Wolfgar,” the Head of Combat replied calmly. ”And yes, we are.”

From the back of the gathered soldiers, a young Brigadier muttered, loud enough to be heard over the wind, ”But they’re just... kids.”

Wolfgar’s single eye snapped to the soldier, causing the young man to physically recoil in fear.

”These ’kids’,” Wolfgar growled, his voice carrying unquestionable authority over the entire camp, ”are a thousand times more powerful than most of the Awakeners you have ever met. They are no ordinary children.”

”We apologize,” Brigade Commander Thornson said. ”As Brigade Commander, I’m only used to working with more establishment heroes.”

”Same goes for me,” Head Ranger Durmon added. ”I am Head Ranger.”

Wolfgar gave two of them uninterested once-overs. ”And I am not here for a grandstanding parade. Give me a status report on everything that has happened. I want an update on the Demon Break.”

Commander Thornson, although perplexed as he was technically a higher authority over the professor, nodded tightly. ”Of course. Right this way.”

Lancet walked with the others past the barricades and a number of armored tents. He scanned the place, locking eyes with a number of the Brigadiers and Rangers who were scrutinizing them with a mixture of desperate hope and biting skepticism.

They were led into the largest command tent at the center of the camp..

Inside, the tent was an impressive hub where the military coordination of this world shined. Radios crackled with static, and scribes yelled over one another as they updated physical charts. The main focus was the flat, circular holographic emitter dominating the center of the space.

Hovering above it was a highly detailed, blue-and-red projection of Hebthej.

Commander Thornson stepped up to the emitter, forced yet again to see the terror Hebthej was enduring, his expression turned grim. ”The situation is deteriorating by the second,” he began

He tapped a sequence on the console. The map refreshed, now showcasing a swirling, violent mass of red and black engulfing the northern half of the projection.

”Just yesterday, the North Gate Blockade collapsed entirely,” Thornson reported, pointing to a cluster of red markers flooding through the breach. ”The Demon forces have bypassed the northern trenches and are actively pouring into the upper residential districts. But worse than the army is the Miasma.”

He zoomed in on the terrifying spread of the red-black stain. ”I don’t know how much your students know about this stuff but it’s not just a fog. It’s an infectious rot.”

”Look here.” He zoned in on the infected area. ”It’s terraforming the town, corroding the stone, and poisoning the soil. As you can see, it has swallowed nearly half of Hebthej.”

Thornson pointed to the very center of the map. ”The Miasma has stopped expanding for now, just shy of the central square. It’s pooling perfectly around the old clock tower.”

Head Ranger Durmon leaned his armored hands on the edge of the table. ”That is where the Demon Head has anchored itself. It’s perched in the tower, directly tapping into the town’s leyline convergence to amplify the Miasma.”

Wolfgar folded his arm. ”So it truly is using the leyline.”

”If that rot reaches 100 percent,” Durmon intoned, ”Hebthej physically detaches from our reality and becomes a permanent Demon Citadel. We are currently at 65 percent.”

Lancet stared at the map. It was exactly like the image in his mind, but seeing the real-time spread of the red markers made his blood run cold.

”What about the civilians?” Wolfgar demanded.

”Like we sent to the government, it is still over a thousand unaccounted for, but our scouts confirm the majority are sealed in the southern catacombs beneath the Chapel,” Durmon said, highlighting a glowing blue sanctuary zone at the bottom of the map.

”Our initial strategy was to form a heavy magical barricade at the Merchant’s Gate to bottleneck the Lesser Demons and buy time for an extraction through the old eastern ridge smuggler tunnels.”

Thornson slammed his fist on the table. ”But the plan is falling apart! The Demons aren’t respecting the structural choke points. They smell the blood of the innocent in those catacombs, and they have burrowers digging straight beneath our walls.”

Wolfgar turned to glance at Lancet. ”Just like Astensia said.”

”What?” Thornson asked.

Wolfgar looked at him. ”Never mind. Carry on, please.”

”The Merchant’s Gate is a slaughterhouse,” Thornson pointed, ”and the extraction route is inches away from being cut off completely. Even with our Graceblasters there’s almost nothing we can do. Those Demons are savages. Pure evil from Gehenna.”

Wolfgar’s single eye narrowed. ”What exactly are my vanguard walking into? Give me the details of the hostiles. Ranks. Demon types if possible.”

Thornson swallowed hard, tapping the console again. The red markers on the map categorized themselves.

”The swarm is practically endless. There are Slug Demons, Bug Demons, Winged Demons, and even Humanoid Demons. For the ranks, the lowest rank is Fallen. And the highest of the Descending rank,” Thornson explained.

”Apart from the Demon Head, the highest ranked Demon is the Demon Commander stationed right outside the central square.”

Durmon locked eyes with Wolfgar. ”The Commander is a 7-Star Descending Demon.”

A murmur ran through Class Group-A students. Vernon’s jaw tightened. Descending was the rank just before the most deadliest rank of Demons. That made the Commander terrifying enough. But 7-Stars? Just two stars away from possibly descending further into the Void rank?

That would be their biggest challenge yet. A Demon of that power could wipe out entire platoons of ordinary Awakeners with a single strike.

”I see,” Wolfgar sounded unbothered, refusing to let the panic settle in his students. ”And what if the Demon Head?”

Head Ranger Durmon looked away from the map. He stared at the young, tense faces of the vanguard, his expression haunted.

”The Demon Head is a 4-Star Void.”

Silence suddenly took over.

A wind of anxiety swept through the students. Even Renan’s stoic posture faltered just a little. Vernon seemed to be reconsidering his desire to battle the Demon Head.

A Void ranked Demon Head. The Demon Lords were definitely keen on making Hebthej a citadel if they had sent a Demon Head that powerful.

The students shivered, facing a horrifying reality that this was truly a life or death mission, not a guaranteed success story to add to their pedigrees.

That truth sunk into their bones.

Head Ranger Durmon raised his grim gaze to Wolfgar.

”You still think your kids can handle it?”