I Only Summon Amazon Giantesses

In the staffroom, where teachers tended to hang around whenever they had no scheduled classes for a given period, leaving them with nothing to do but rest and recharge for a while, some of the teachers seated at neighboring tables worked steadily through a pile of student assessment documents, sorting and reviewing them with practiced speed and precision.

A brown-skinned woman in glasses shuffled through a stack of files before stretching out her back and glancing across toward the gray-haired man beside her. ”This season’s turned out much heavier than the last few, honestly, especially compared to the competition period. There’ve been so many grade records and assessment copies piling up from the students, and I’ll be honest, it’s been exhausting.”

The male teacher glanced up briefly from his own work with a low grunt.

”Yeah, I’d say that goes for both of us, or really the whole staff. This stretch’s just been packed with far more work for us than it ever is for the students, especially for someone like me, teaching a theory-heavy subject with notes practically stacked in every corner. Everything’s about documents and files right now, not the interesting hands-on stuff like the practical events.”

He sorted through a handful of loose paperwork on his desk before continuing.

”And I’ll admit, the competition period was actually pretty relaxing and worthwhile, since it didn’t involve nearly as many records or grade documentation coming from plain assignments and paperwork. I even made decent money just placing a few bets on some of the matches, and it paid off pretty well, honestly. But this period in particular just demands sharp focus and a whole lot of stress over all of this.”

”Which is exactly why I bumped up the number of assignments, tests, and homework I’m handing out, as payback for my own stress. They deserve a fair share of our frustration, so they actually understand what real life feels like,” the female teacher suggested. ”It’s my own little way of giving something back to them.”

”Not a bad idea at all. I might consider doing the same,” the man remarked. ”Though wouldn’t that just end up backfiring on you once you’ve got to grade all that extra paperwork yourself?”

Just then, Carlo poked his head through the doorway before stepping inside. He wore a neat black vest over a crisp, buttoned white shirt, paired with straight blue trousers and polished, pointed shoes as he made his way across toward his desk tucked in a corner of the room. An apple sat in one hand, and he took a casual bite as he walked.

A black raven sat perched on his right shoulder like a well-trained parrot. Its beady yellow eyes, each split by a horizontal slit pupil, swept quietly over the entire room without a sound. Its feathers ran a straight, uniform dark black, with no hints of any other color mixed in. Its talons hooked firmly into his shoulder, though it kept its grip soft enough to avoid clawing its owner.

Its glossy black plumage caught the light in a subtle, shifting sheen of deep blue and purple, framed by a ragged fringe of shaggy feathers along its throat. A large, powerful, curved black bill sat beneath those watchful eyes, while its tail, wedge-shaped in flight, now hung in a straight, neat line as it remained perched.

The sight of the bird immediately drew the attention of most staff members in the room. Ravens had long carried a reputation as omens of bad luck and impending doom, largely because of their habit of gathering near battlefields and sites of plague, feeding on the dead.

That habit alone had tied them to death and suffering throughout history. According to Greek myth, Apollo had once turned the raven’s feathers from white to black as punishment for bringing him news of infidelity.

In reality, though, biologists have long noted that ravens are remarkably intelligent, playful, social birds whose ominous reputation carries no real basis in actual biology.

The woman in glasses scowled slightly at the sight of the bird perched in the room. ”Didn’t I already tell you to stop bringing uninvited things into this staffroom? You promised us you would, and yet here we are.”

The gray-haired man beside her let out a low grunt as he rearranged some scattered files across his desk. ”Let me guess, that’s your summon, isn’t it? A bird summon?”

Carlo nodded with a smile, though he shook his head slightly a beat later. ”Yes and no, honestly. He’s my summon, but also my pet, so technically a pet summon. And I think he’s genuinely happy to be here.”

The woman in glasses shook her head, the scowl still fixed firmly on her face. ”No, the school doesn’t allow or support this kind of unnecessary summon use on campus, and especially not inside an office!”

Carlo’s expression paused briefly at her reaction. ”Aww, really? It’s kind of ironic, though, isn’t it? A school specifically meant for summoners to develop their talents, and it doesn’t even allow them out in the open.”

He blinked innocently before glancing toward his raven. ”But he was only just starting to have fun. He’ll never ever forget any of us for this moment, I promise. And I’m pretty sure he already loves y’all. Can’t you tell?”

”AH AH EE EE COOKIE COOKIE!” the bird cawed suddenly, hopping off Carlo’s shoulder in a flurry of flapping wings, loose feathers spilling through the air around it. Carlo stretched his lips into a long, warm smile, fingers entwined in front of him. ”Oh, right, I forgot to mention, his name’s Cookie. He absolutely loves apples. Though, funny enough, cookies aren’t exactly his specialty, which honestly makes the name even more fitting, right?”

The bird landed squarely on a nearby staff member’s desk, right where the man had been happily enjoying a plate of brown cookies and a glass of milk, before immediately stabbing its bill into one of the biscuits with a loud, rattling clatter. The teacher yelped in surprise at the bird’s sheer audacity, though he quickly caught himself and pretended nothing had happened.

The woman in glasses grimaced even harder, shaking her head in open disapproval before turning back to the files stacked across her desk, while her neighbor simply shrugged and returned to his own paperwork.

”Ah ah ee ee cookie cookie!” the raven cawed again, its beady eyes fixed unblinkingly on the brown-skinned teacher, taking in her bun hairstyle, her black eyes behind thin-framed round glasses, her moderately plump frame, and the teacher’s badge pinned to her chest.

”Guess he really does prefer cookies, then,” Carlo said with an earnest smile as he pulled out his own stack of student records and grade sheets. He let out a long breath, wiping a small line of sweat from his forehead, the stress of the workload finally catching up with him.

”Honestly, this period really is as hard more than back during the competition days. I even beat the combat instructor himself in that exclusive bet we had going back then.”