Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

The first clash rang through the underground arena like a bell made of steel and thunder.

Radiant Guillotine met Black Gale head-on, and the collision of the two legendary blades threw a burst of force across the broken floor.

Golden smoke exploded outward from Lancet’s sword while silver-black mist unfurled from Renan’s, the two colors twisting around each other in a violent storm that made the first-years in the stands scream louder than before.

Some of them were on their feet now, some shouting Renan’s name, others Lancet’s, and a few simply yelling because they could not believe they were watching the fight happen at all.

Kasto had already leaned forward on the broken ledge, elbows on his knees, eyes sharp as he desperately made sure he didn’t miss a single thing. Theo, beside him, looked like he had personally decided Lancet’s victory was now a matter of national importance.

”Come on!” Theo urged his supposed junior. ”You can do it, Lancet!”

Luke sat farther back in the shadow of the wall where he had been left to recover. He watched the center of the arena with lowered eyes and a face that had gone quiet with humiliation.

He was not cheering. He was not speaking. He was simply watching the two boys battle it out below. Luke felt an anger logged in his throat because he could see from where he stood that Lancet was a better fighter than him.

Yet, somehow Renan still seemed stronger. This meant that from the very beginning, Luke didn’t even stand a chance.

He was still weak.

Renan took an even more offensive approach.

He ripped Black Gale back from the lock and spun. The blade came around in a low arc aimed at Lancet’s ribs.

Lancet twisted his body, the edge missing him by less than a finger’s width, and answered with a thrust of his own. Radiant Guillotine shot forward like a spear of gold.

Renan deflected it with his gauntlet. Then slashed his blade sideways, activating Light Slash.

He came up with his free hand extended. ”Radiant Burst!”

A pulse of golden light detonated from the ring on his finger, aimed at the ground between them. The explosion kicked up a curtain of dust and shattered rock. Renan had to leap backward to avoid being blinded again.

The crowd screamed approval.

Renan landed lightly on a broken pillar, his coat settling around him. ”You really know how to counter.”

Lancet wiped dust from his eyes and smiled. ”Learnt from the best.”

Renan knew he was talking about Astensia Valengard.

He prepared his Grace and quickly launched himself off the pillar, Black Gale leading. Lancet met him halfway.

Clang – clang – clang – clang –

Four strikes in two seconds. Lancet parried two, dodged one, took the fourth on the flat of his blade. The impact drove him back a step. Renan pressed, using his greater weight, heavenly magic and reach to hammer Lancet’s guard.

Lancet switched grips. He dropped low and came up under Renan’s swing, Radiant Guillotine pointed at Renan’s throat.

Renan’s free hand caught Lancet’s wrist—exactly as he had done with Luke.

”You’re more skilled than him,” Renan admitted. ”But you telegraph.”

He shoved. Lancet staggered, but instead of recovering, he let the momentum carry him into a spin. He brought Radiant Guillotine around in a full circle, the blade glowing brighter with each degree.

”Radiant Wheel!”

The sword became a disc of golden light, a horizontal saw that screamed toward Renan’s midsection. Renan had no choice but to throw himself flat. The wheel passed over his back, shearing off a lock of his hair and carving a trench into the stone wall behind him.

Renan rolled to his feet, eyes wide. ”That’s new.”

”You’re not the only one with techniques,” Lancet said.

They didn’t hesitate to charge again.

This time, Renan poured tanks of Grace into Black Gale, giving it a force that was immediate, clean, and brutally refined.

CLAANGGGGGGG!

A mad collision.

Lancet’s boots skidded across the stone, the impact driving his heels back a few inches before he twisted his body and let the momentum carry him sideways instead of straight into the ground.

That alone was the difference Renan made everywhere he stood. Even when the movement was only pressure, it felt like the battlefield itself was leaning toward him.

Plot armor as everyone called it.

Lancet had known coming in that the Heavenly Knight was stronger with the sword, but it was one thing to know it and another to feel it in your bones with every exchange.

Renan’s voice was calm as he pressed forward. ”You don’t have to be the customary Summoner, Lancet.”

Lancet narrowed his eyes at him. ”Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

”Hiding behind your summons and escaping combat whenever it suits you,” he said, blade sliding in and forcing Lancet to rotate his guard. ”It makes you unprepared for situations like this.”

Lancet caught the next slash with the edge of Radiant Guillotine and felt the force shoot up his arm. He barked out a strained laugh through the effort. ”You’re saying that because you lost to Astensia and Spectra.”

A few first-years in the stands hissed in excitement at that. Theo pointed sharply at the arena from the ledge.

”That’s it!” he shouted. ”Hit him with facts, Lancet!”

Kasto grimaced but did not look away from the duel. ”He’s right, though. Renan’s trying to drag him into a one-on-one identity test. That’s the whole point.”

Renan’s eyes narrowed slightly at Lancet’s answer, but he gave nothing else away. ”I think your potential is way greater than that, Lancet.”

Lancet clicked his tongue and shifted backward just enough to let the next strike slide past his ribs. ”Yeah, but you don’t have to insult my Class Group to praise me.”

He had ten charges left in the Phantom Ring. Ten total opportunities to borrow a piece of his summons’ power and use it at his own level.

Because only ten were left, every charge mattered. Every decision had to be calculated. He could not afford waste, especially not against someone who could end the duel faster than most people could understand what had happened.

He raised his free hand and the ring flashed.

[ Flash Feet ]

Light burst under his soles and Lancet shot forward with a crackling streak of lightning skipping beneath his boots, crossing half the distance in a blink before cutting low with Radiant Guillotine.

The slash itself was augmented by a weak, compressed version of Glorious Slash, a golden arc trailing from the blade as he swung. Renan parried, but the impact forced the Heavenly Knight to shift one step back, and a ripple went through the crowd when they saw it.

”His legs are moving like Thor’s!” one first-year shouted.

”No, not exactly,” Kasto said immediately, already tracking the motion. ”It’s Thor’s Flash Feet, but weaker. I’ve noticed this since the Competitions, Lancet’s Phantom Ring is scaling the Skill down. He’s not using full summon power. He’s borrowing it.”

Renan noticed too.

When Lancet pressed with a second golden arc from the sword, Renan’s eyes narrowed in the briefest flash of curiosity. Then he pivoted and let the strike pass, his own blade moving with a smoothness that made Lancet’s teeth grit.

It was subtle, but not to him: Renan had seen the difference in potency. The slash Lancet had copied from Astensia wasn’t as dense as the original. The edge was there, but the weight behind it was not.

So he knew.

The Phantom Ring reduced everything to Lancet’s level.