Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

”Holy Cross Shield!” Lancet yelled, his voice cutting through the shrieks of endless Demons.

He sunk his sword into the earth. Instantly, a giant, blazing golden cross manifested in the air directly in front of him. The top tip of the cross stretched overhead and bent backward behind him, while the horizontal sides stretched down to flank his boots.

In a flash of light, golden force fields filled the open spaces, locking together to create an impenetrable, glowing dome of holy protection.

Lancet remembered the Skill from when Astensia used it against the Orc Shamans and he’d mastered it in training.

In front of him, countless Demons—crawlers, humanoids, massive insectoids—creeped and clawed their way out of the freshly torn earth and the billowing thick miasma.

They charged forward like a starving tidal wave, but Lancet remained still inside his dome. The golden shield burnt any Demonic flesh that touched it.

Realizing the barrier was impenetrable, the endless horde simply flowed around him, running past and even scrambling over the top of the dome, ignoring him entirely as they surged westward toward the rest of the town.

Lancet waited for what felt like an eternity. His Grace pool was massive now after his mass level-up and Grace Absorption, but he knew he would end up spending every single drop of it when he fights the Demon Head.

’...’

Speaking of the Demon Head, Lancet slowly raised his head to look at the monstrosity standing at the center of the graveyard.

That thing looked worse than the first Demon Head.

Lancet remembered seeing the art for the creature in the novel’s fandom page. It had looked terrifying then, but even worse now.

It stood over twenty feet tall, its frame impossibly broad with crimson muscles for skin. It had no neck and no traditional head; instead, its shoulders simply merged into a massive, hunched crest.

Down the center of its torso was a vertical maw lined with hundreds of interlocking, sharp, iron-like teeth. Floating in the shape of a halo around its crest were a dozen disembodied, burning yellow eyes, darting and twitching independently.

It let out a roar, shaking the expanse as the Demon numbers reduced.

When the last of the lesser Demons finally moved on, only a few mindless stragglers were left, useless scratching at Lancet’s barrier.

Lancet pushed his hands outward, detonating the [ Holy Cross Shield ].

The golden force field exploded outward, instantly vaporizing the stragglers scratching at the walls into ash. The shockwave expanded, ripping across the cemetery and slamming into the giant Demon Head.

But the blast just washed over the goliath harmlessly, ruffling the miasma around it like an ordinary breeze.

Lancet stood up straight, rolling his shoulders under his S-Grade armor. He angled the Radiant Guillotine in front of him, feeling the weight of the trapped Demon Souls crying inside the blade.

”Come on, Lancet,” he muttered to himself, staring at the hideous beast. ”That thing might be big and terrifying, and arguably the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen... but, well, I have S-Grade gear. Besides, David and Goliath has always been my favorite Bible story.”

With a battle cry and a massive burst of adrenaline-fueled confidence, Lancet kicked off the dirt and sprinted directly toward the Demon Head.

The monster stood like an unbothered tree, its dozen floating eyes all locked onto the running boy.

Then, it stretched its massive, dripping arms out to its sides, and its vertical torso-maw stretched wide open, aiming directly at the red heavens.

”ROOAAARRRRRRRR!!!”

Out shot a cataclysmic blast of red energy from the maw to the crimson clouds

Lancet’s eyes widened as the sky fractured. A rippling, blood-red entity that looked like twisting strands of DNA cells exploded outward, spreading across the sky in a matter of seconds.

The entire town of Hebthej was instantly covered with a suffocating, thick red filter. The wind turned into a violent gale of evil, splashing aggressively against Lancet’s face.

His silver-blond hair whipped relentlessly backward. And then came the pressure of demonic magic hitting his body like a speeding car, halting his sprint instantly and forcing him down onto one knee.

”The Gloom Domain,” Lancet groaned. It had been activated.

Miles away in the ruined square, the Domain took hold instantly.

As the Vanguard of students and Heroines defended the soldiers against the horde of Demons, a wall of Gloom struck into their bodies, taking hold.

Thor suddenly dropped to her knees, letting her warhammer fall beside her. She grabbed her chest, her eyes wide with shock. ”My... my channels...” she gasped, coughing up a spatter of blood. ”They’re filling with Gloom. I can’t cycle my lightning.”

Beside her, Astensia stumbled, using the Blessed Blade as a crutch just to keep from falling flat on her face. Her golden aura violently flickered and died.

The Ironwill Knight groaned in agony, the corrupted air burning her lungs. ”A Domain... It’s choking the Grace out of the air!”

The students fared much worse. Valeria collapsed completely, her eyes rolling back as the Gloom overpowered her injured body. Silas and Kaleb fell flat against the rubble, entirely paralyzed, their bodies trembling as the dark energy invaded their magical circuits.

Even the charging Brigade soldiers at the gates began to collapse in droves, clutching their throats as they suffocated on the corrupted air.

Seeing that they were weakened, the Demons closed in.

Everyone was paralyzed by the Gloom Domain, and undeniably, this was a massacre waiting to happen.

A massive, four-armed Demon leaped over the barricades, its multiple jaws snapping wildly. It locked eyes on Frieda, who was resting weakly against a shattered stone wall, tears streaming down her face as her fire magic refused to ignite.

The Demon creeped closer to her as she cried. Then, it opened its jaws slowly to snap her head clean off. Frieda squeezed her eyes shut and cried out.

SLING!!!

Frieda opened her eyes instantly as saw the Demon’s head fall and roll down the rubble, severed from its head.

She gasped, turning her head to her right.

Standing there, his armor gleaming beneath the oppressive red sky, was Renan.

”Renan!” she cried.

The Heavenly Knight ran towards the rest of the approaching Demons, his blade flashing as he slaughtered all of them with precise, ruthless strikes.

As their lifeless bodies slumped, Renan spun his sword, Skyblade, throwing the purple blood from the steel, and planted his feet in a heroic pose as wind poured through him.

”Don’t worry, everyone,” Renan declared, facing the incoming wave of crimson creatures. ”This horde of Demons won’t be getting through me.”

Back in the cemetery, the Demon Head stomped heavily toward Lancet, the ground quaking with every step.

Lancet was still on one knee, straining in pain against the Gloom corruption.

”Insolent, stupid human,” the creature’s voice rumbled. ”You thought you could oppose me with an ordinary sword and armor.”

It reached a massive, acid-dripping hand down to crush the kneeling boy.

But to the Demon’s surprise, Lancet explosively pushed off his back foot and swung his sword upward. The S-Grade golden blade sheared cleanly through the Goliath’s thick hide, completely severing its massive index finger.

”RRAAAARRGH!” the Demon shrieked, thick purple blood spilling like a waterfall onto the graves.

It pulled its hand back, its dozen floating eyes snapping down to look at the boy.

Lancet was now standing completely upright. There was a proud smile on his face. The Purifier’s Duskguard was glowing fiercely, actively burning the Gloom Domain away from his skin in a two-foot radius, entirely protecting his internal Grace channels from the infection.

He’d been faking.

”Not really an ordinary sword and armor, huh?” Lancet smirked, resting the golden blade on his shoulder.

”Arrggg!!” the Demon Head roared.

Suddenly, it burst into a thick cloud of red smoke.

Lancet’s eyes widened. ’Shit. I forgot it could do that.’

He spun around, but he was too slow. The monster materialized directly behind him. Its massive, remaining hand closed entirely around Lancet’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

Lancet choked, his hands clawing uselessly at the beast’s iron-like grip.

The Demon Head slammed Lancet face-first into a granite tombstone, shattering the stone. His armor’s magical field helped reduce the damage, but the force rattled Lancet’s skull.

The Demon lifted him up and slammed him into the dirt again.

CRASH!

Again!

CRASH!

Again and Again. Over and over, brutalizing the boy against the earth until the cemetery ground was cratered.

Lancet lost count. He lost track of where he was, of what was happening. All he knew was pain—exploding behind his eyes, radiating through his skull, filling his entire world.

The Demon Head finally stopped, and raised him high into the air.

Lancet was a bloody, broken mess. Blood leaked from his nose and forehead, dripping down his blond hair and painting his face. His ribs were in agony and he could barely keep his eyes open.

”Weak!” the Demon Head spat. ”A child wearing weapons forged by legends! Is this what humanity has left to defend them?”

Lancet groaned, feeling mind-numbing pain radiating through every single nerve in his body.

”Your bravery will be overshadowed by your meaningless death,” the Demon Head glared, its floating eyes narrowing with malice. ”So I will grant you your final words. Go ahead, puny human. What shall it be?”

Lancet’s lips trembled. He tried to speak, but the blood bubbling in his throat made it difficult. ”Su... su...”

”What was that, human?” the Demon mocked, leaning closer.

”Su... Summon,” Lancet rasped.

The Demon Head saw the smile on Lancet’s face and frowned in confusion. ”What do you mean? Summon what?”

”Why, me, of course.”

A lethally seductive voice echoed from behind the Demon.

Its eyes widened and it turned around.

There was a woman there.

She was floating in the air and looked breathtakingly terrifying while doing it. Her skin was exceptionally pale, contrasting sharply with her dark, blood-red lips and the massive mane of pure white hair cascading wildly down her back.

Atop her head sat a gothic headpiece featuring a deeply blooming crimson rose, almost as crimson as her eyes that promised nothing but danger.

The reddish smoke that lifted her in the air looked darkly similar to demonic miasma, yet she wielded it like her own, granting herself a clawed crimson arm that resembled that of a demoness.

She looked down at the monstrous Demon Head and her red lips curved to a predatory smile.

”Are you the one leading my children in this pathetic Demon invasion?” she asked playfully.

The Demon Head stared at her in disbelief.

The woman shook her head slowly, a theatrical gesture of disappointment, and she clicked her tongue. ”Pfft pfft. Naughty, naughty demon. Mommy going away doesn’t mean you come out to play.”