Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

In the original story, the Human Citadel had also been built, but it happened much later. The Demon World’s plans succeeded first, and Deathrock became exactly what it had been prepared to become: a hidden route into the human world.

Gehenna used it to move larger armies behind humanity’s defenses and strike at the capital of Aethelgard, including the Kingdom Council itself.

By the time anyone understood the scale of the operation, Aethelgard was unraveling. It was up to Renan and his girlfriends to save a kingdom that was already falling apart around them.

A lot of people died during that arc.

President Alistair Bane was one of them. Dean Ordenance died too, along with several characters Renan had met and grown close to across the Academy and the wider world.

Aethelgard eventually survived, but the kingdom needed several arcs just to recover enough military strength, political stability, and confidence to start thinking about retaliation.

Only then did humanity accept the plan Alistair Bane had proposed long before his death: the first Human Citadel.

Lancet remembered all of that. That was why, after finishing his training with Kestrel on the Stone Castles, he had spent so long staring at Deathrock before deciding what to do.

He could have walked away. The original timeline would have continued, and Renan would have gone through one of the most important periods of growth in the entire novel.

Losing people around him, watching Aethelgard collapse, and being forced to carry responsibilities far beyond his age had changed him deeply in the original story. Not to talk about the growth in power too.

Lancet knew interfering would erase much of that. For a while, he had genuinely considered ignoring the half-citadel and letting it all play out like it did in the light novel.

Then he had thought about everybody who would die just so the main character could become stronger, and that made the choice much easier.

Renan could find another way to grow, and President Bane did not need to die for it. Neither did Ordenance, nor the Rangers, Brigadiers, civilians, and Council workers who would have been slaughtered when Deathrock opened behind humanity’s defenses.

Not to forget that Lancet himself had gained power, experience and respect from interfering as well.

Now, Operation Citadel was happening years ahead of the original timeline.

The most important part was that President Alistair Bane was alive to lead the invasion he had originally never lived long enough to see. That was good news.

This was why Lancet had expected there would be a small break given. He remembered that in the original story, those selected for the Citadel preparations had been given leave before the real training began.

He had been counting on the same thing happening here, though he had not known how long the break would be now that the circumstances had changed so much.

Two weeks was more than enough, especially with his plans already moving. Thor likely had the Terrible Three, the Serpent Society’s experiments had been postponed, and Solaris was making sure Frieda was strong enough for her part in the coming war.

All this meant that Lancet finally had the time he needed to prepare the most important piece of his own plans for the Warning Gates: Spectra.

Lancet’s attention returned fully to the War Hall as Alistair Bane continued speaking.

The excitement from the announcement of the two-week holiday had not completely died yet. The recruits were still whispering about going home but Alistair raised one hand and the hall gradually settled again.

”The holiday is not only for generosity,” he said. ”You must understand it is a matter of preparation.” The recruits quieted. ”You are about to enter an intensive military training period designed around a real, dangerous, war.

”Some of you will eventually cross into Gehenna. Others will remain here and stand between the first Warning Gates and the people behind you. Either assignment will demand more from your body and mind than ordinary training.”

He looked across the rows. ”Go home if you have a home to return to. Speak with the people you care about and spend as much time as you can because it is an undeniable truth that some of us might not be alive at the end of this war.”

A tension suddenly rested in the room as everyone stilled, watching the President with thick, silent expressions.

”Rest,” Bane continued. ”Eat properly. Sleep without alarms and training schedules for a few days. Remember why you intend to come back.

”Mental exhaustion kills people as effectively as poor armor. Two weeks with family may do more for some of you than two extra weeks beneath a training instructor.” Then his expression shifted slightly.

”But the leave is not compulsory.” A few recruits looked up. ”If you prefer to remain here, then the walls of the Golden Barracks will comfort you.”

That got a restrained laugh from the hall, which Alistair allowed before continuing. ”Training grounds will remain open at reduced capacity. Lodges will remain staffed. Medical services, kitchens, and essential facilities will continue operating. Nobody will be forced to leave.”

Then his face became even more serious. ”What will be compulsory is secrecy.”

He raised his hand and a dark contract appeared across the enormous screen behind him. Golden words moved over black parchment.

”You are allowed to tell your families that you have been selected for government military preparation. You can even tell them you will be away for an extended period and that the world government considers the training important.”

His gaze hardened. ”But you will not tell them about Malachar, Netharos, or anything concerning Operation Citadel or Operation Aegis. Nothing at all.”

The magical contract expanded. ”When you leave the Golden Barracks, every person involved in these operations will be bound to this contract.”

Lancet watched the glowing text move. Alistair continued, ”If you deliberately attempt to break the agreement, the contract will punish you severely.”

A low murmur moved through the recruits. No one wanted to find out what that punishment was because they knew President Bane — who was usually a direct man — was being vague on purpose.

”And anyone to whom you reveal classified information will be locked inside a Void Prison until the operation is complete.” That killed the murmuring instantly.

Lancet raised his brows; that was harsh, but effective too. The reasoning for it was so obvious that no one could honestly argue against it.

President Bane didn’t mess around, did he?

Alistair looked across the hall without sympathy. ”It’ll be in your best interest not to test it. Do not assume that because somebody is your spouse, parent, sibling, or closest friend, an exception will be made. This war depends on Gehenna not knowing what humanity intends to do before we are ready to do it.”

He lowered his hand, and the contract disappeared. ”Go home. Resolve whatever personal matters you do not want following you into the war. Then return prepared.”

Alistair stepped back and the recruits rewarded his speech with a round of applause. After that, King Romsgard stepped up.

Romsgard as usual had that inspiring tone in his regal voice. Each word he spoke uplifted the recruits with courage and even a dosage of assurance in sight of the grim days ahead.

He reminded them that all the maps, assignments and threat levels ultimately existed to protect people who would never know their names: civilians sleeping behind city walls, families who would never see Malachar, and ordinary people who only needed the soldiers in that room to make sure the war never reached them.

He kept the mood lighter than Bane had, drawing a few laughs from the recruits, but the point landed all the same. Humanity had already survived enough disasters; this time, they were fighting so the world would not have to survive another one.

He also revealed that when the recruits returned from their two-week holiday, all five Sovereigns would be present for the final preparations.

Romsgard acknowledged that soldiers from Ebonia, Asiris, Falcon Standing and Antarticon deserved to hear from their own rulers before marching into war, and promised that the kingdoms would move forward together.

He ended by telling them to enjoy the break while they still could, because when they returned, they would no longer be preparing to change history.

They would begin doing it.

The War Hall answered with applause. It grew quickly, moving through the tiers until thousands of people were on their feet. Lancet stood with the others; even knowing what was coming, he felt it.

Romsgard really was ridiculous at this.

As the King stepped away from the podium, Marshal Keene moved forward, and the applause died much faster this time. Keene waited until everyone was seated again.

”You heard the President. You heard the King.” His tone changed the room immediately from inspiration back to military order. ”When these doors open, you will leave by section. No crowding the assignment office. No switching lines and no arguing with the receptionists because you dislike your assignment.”

The recruits looked at one another.

Keene pointed toward the exits. ”Collect your crests. Sign the departure contract. The Golden Gates will open tomorrow so no one is leaving yet. Just return to your lodges and prepare for departure tomorrow if you intend to leave.”

He looked across the hall one last time. ”You have two weeks.”

Then he stepped back. The doors opened, and the War Hall emptied by sections.

Lancet moved with the others toward the assignment office near the main exit. The closer they came, the more the earlier tension returned, as nobody knew which crest waited for them.

Renan reached the desk before Lancet. The receptionist found his name on the screen and opened a narrow case to reveal a gold fortress against a dark-red background: Operation Citadel.

Renan took it, and though his expression remained calm, Lancet saw the satisfaction in his eyes.

Nereus received the same crest, turning it once between his fingers before fixing it to his coat. Espel stepped forward next, received Citadel, looked at it for two seconds, and attached it without comment.

Then Valeria reached the desk. Her case opened to reveal a silver shield with Earth beneath it: Operation Aegis. Valeria’s brows rose, clearly expecting the other one, but she took the crest without complaint.

Vernon came next. The receptionist opened his case to reveal Aegis, and his jaw tightened immediately. Lancet noticed Vernon stare at the silver shield for a moment longer than necessary before taking it.

He did not argue—Keene’s warning had them not to—but he was not happy.

Tavrik stepped forward with far less tension, looked at his Aegis crest, nodded once, and pinned it on. Selli followed with Aegis as well, smiling slightly when she saw Tavrik’s matching assignment.

Lancet finally reached the desk. The receptionist looked up at him, recognition crossing her face before she checked his information.

She pulled one final case toward herself, and Lancet waited as the lid opened to reveal a gold fortress against a dark-red world.

Operation Citadel.

Lancet took the crest and held it between two fingers. He looked down at it with a serious expression.

’I guess I’ve booked myself a vacation to Demon World.’