Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Thor and Astensia remained frozen for a moment longer, their wide eyes staring at Lancet, trying to parse what he had just told them.

Lancet felt like he had done his part with the introduction, so he sheepishly tugged Espel on her arm. ”Say something,” he whispered with the corner of his mouth.

Espel glanced from him back to the trio of female legends. Then she stepped forward measuredly.

”It is an honor to meet such revered legends as yourselves,” Espel said, her voice smooth, even, and entirely devoid of the nervous tremors most students had when facing high-tier entities.

Spectra humored herself at the display. She tilted her head against her hand, a thoroughly amused, wicked glint dancing in her crimson eyes as she gestured toward her own chest. ”Oh? Even I, little healer? You consider a notorious demoness a revered legend?”

Espel’s cyan eyes locked onto Spectra’s gaze without a single hint of panic. ”Unlike the rest of the world, I hold no ill will or judgment for the decisions you made centuries ago. Everyone lives their lives based on whatever has been handed to them by the world.”

Spectra’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Her crimson eyes widened slightly, a rare flash of genuine surprise flitting across her sharp features before she covered it with a small chuckle.

She hadn’t expected such a cold, philosophical answer from someone who looked so young and pure.

”Very well then.”

Thor, meanwhile, wasn’t interested in ancient history. She gave Espel a once-over. ”You seem incredibly young,” Thor said, her brow furrowing as she leaned forward on the log bench. ”What era in the past were you summoned from?”

Espel gave her a deadpan look. ”The past?”

Astensia’s brows narrowed immediately.

Spectra’s eyes flashed. She slowly tilted her head, her gaze drifting away from Espel to Lancet. ”Well, well. This must be incredibly interesting, Master Lancet.”

Lancet cleared his throat rapidly, cheeks turning nervous-red.

”Espel isn’t from the past,” he explained, meeting their collective stares. ”She’s from the present. She lives in the exact same timeframe as all of us right now.”

The Heroines were all slapped with shock.

”She’s actually a student here at the academy,” Lancet added.

Astensia’s hand tightened instinctively on the pommel of her greatsword. ”But your powers. The ladder... it climbs to the past, doesn’t it?”

”That’s what I thought,” Lancet replied, shrugging. ”Until I found out that it could climb even in the presence. I was searching for any powerful Awakener that could heal my broken channels and the ladder surprisingly led me to her.”

Spectra rested her hands on the fallen log and leaned, her breasts pushing out against the fabric of her bodice. She studied the young healer with sparkling eyes. ”How fascinating. And what exactly is your power? This Advanced Class of yours. Entropy Mage.”

Espel turned to her. ”I can revitalize anything back to its full or healthy form, as long as even a speck of it remains.”

The glowing, pink-shaded butterfly resting on her finger flapped its wings softly, shedding golden lights of Grace.

”And,” Espel continued, ”I can also deteriorate anything until there is absolutely nothing left of it.”

The butterfly was swallowed by a dark purple energy and then transformed into a moth, flapping its wings slowly. The newly bloomed flowers beneath her feet instantly withered into dust.

Spectra’s eyes sharpened to pinpricks as she watched the display. ”Well... isn’t that quite something.”

Thor let out a low grunt. She picked up her warhammer from where it rested against the log. She spun the weapon a bit, and hung it securely from the leather strap at her belt.

”It is nice to meet you, Espel Fyrebloom. I suppose, given your circumstances, you won’t be staying in the Summon Space with us. .”

”She is a Bound Summon, thunderbird,” Spectra rolled her eyes at the Valkyrie. ”They do not stay in Summon Spaces.”

Spectra’s gaze then slowly trailed across Lancet’s body, her red eyes scanning his chest, his belt, and his hands. ”However... I do not see a catalyst anywhere on you, Master Lancet. No ring, no relic, no ancient parchment. How do you keep her sealed?”

”Well, in my case, I am the catalyst,” Lancet replied after a moment. ”I don’t need an external instrument or to bind her.”

Spectra paused, studying him for a second. ”You keep finding ways to impress me, Lancet,” she finally said. ”No catalyst, mhm?”

A sigh left her as she shrugged with one shoulder. ”I can’t say I’m not a little jealous. By the way, when are we going to start looking for mine?”

”We’re not talking about that right now, Spectra,” Lancet cut her off immediately. ”I just wanted to officially introduce everyone to Espel.”

Suddenly, the heavy sound of metal clinking broke the conversation.

Astensia stood up from the log bench. Her golden armor gleamed under the filtered sunlight, instantly demanding attention. The entire clearing fell dead silent as the legendary knight began to slowly walk across the grass, stopping directly in front of the younger healer.

Lancet’s internal alarms flared again. Why was Astensia getting close? he wondered. But all he could do was watch and hope that nothing crazy happened.

Astensia’s expression was bland, and unreadable. Just like Espel who looked back at her.

For three agonities of seconds, the tension was thick enough to suffocate.

Then, the rigid lines of Astensia’s face completely softened, and a warm smile broke across her features.

”We finally have a younger lady on our team,” Astensia said softly.

’Phew.’ Lancet let out a breath of relief in his mind, his shoulders dropping.

”Welcome, Espel Fyrebloom,” Astensia continued, a noble sincerity in her voice. ”You seem different but there is no reason why we will not get along. There is a Demoness who sits among us whom I personally do not like, yet I find myself respecting her.”

”Ohhhh,” Spectra teased from behind.

”I respect her only faintly,” Astensia clarified. But then her golden eyes locked onto Espel’s with intensity. ”Because regardless of her wicked nature, she ultimately does what is best for Master Lancet. She will protect him when the field turns bloody. She helps him. And Master Lancet needs all the help he can get in this dangerous world.”

The legendary knight stepped closer, her armored hand resting gently on her greatsword hilt as she radiated the immense aura of the Ironwill Knight.

It wasn’t a threat, but the weight of her history pressed heavily against the clearing.

”Do you promise to help my master?” Astensia asked. She paused for a fraction of a second then corrected herself. ”...Our Master.”

Espel remained perfectly still for a long moment, staring up into the sparkling blue eyes of the legend before her.

After a beat of silence, Espel’s lips parted.

”I do,” she replied plainly.