I Only Summon Villainesses

’Tristan.’

It really was him.

My heart didn’t know what to do with itself. Relief, grief, something like hope — all of it tangled together at the sight of a familiar face. Someone who knew. Someone who understood what we’d lost.

He pulled me into a hug before I could say anything, one hand patting my back in that awkward way men comfort each other when words aren’t enough.

“You must have been through so much, coming here,” he said.

So much was an understatement. But that wasn’t even the main thing — not right now. I pulled back from him, the question already spilling out.

“Lira… what about Lira…”

A somber look crept across his face. When he spoke, his voice carried something wounded.

“I laid them all to rest. We can go see them together sometime.”

I nodded.

“Definitely.”

He glanced around us, searching for one more person, and his tone turned grim.

“What about Emma?”

My face fell the moment I heard her name. He saw the expression, went silent for a moment, and exhaled slowly.

“I see.” He stepped aside, gesturing inward. “Come in…”

He led us into the room. The place was cramped — five of us made it feel smaller than it probably was. If I summoned Kassie here, we’d be practically standing on top of each other.

Two modest beds lined the walls, one on the left and one on the right, separated by a wooden table and chair positioned beneath a window that overlooked the town. Fading morning light spilled across the worn floorboards.

On the left bed, a black-haired man with heterochromatic eyes sat cross-legged, digging into a purple fruit that crunched between his teeth. Juice glistened on his fingers.

“Boss!” Nisha yelled the moment she entered, launching herself at him.

Levi simply rolled away and kicked her mid-flight. She crashed through the chair and table with a spectacular crack of splintering wood.

Tristan stood frozen for a moment, then heaved a sigh of pure disappointment. He looked like he was barely containing himself, pointing at the wreckage with his eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

“You… you broke the table.”

Levi exchanged frantic glances between the debris and Tristan. “What? It’s not me!”

“Bosss!!!”

“What? You broke the table, not me.”

“You kicked me!!”

“And you went and fell on the table! Nisha, you always like to break everything, huh? Six-gods, I just hope you didn’t break Cade already on the way here.”

“Boss!!!”

’Eh? Quite the opposite, actually… I did the breaking.’

I suppressed the urge to gloat.

Octavia and I stood awkwardly to the side while the strange pair argued back and forth. The topic wandered from the broken table to the time Nisha destroyed a dress worth three hundred and fifty silvers because she didn’t know how to walk right — or fall right. She’d stepped on the hem, tore it clean through, and left almost all of her thighs on full display.

The fun part? She simply ripped what remained off completely and continued to shamelessly walk around the ball like nothing had happened.

Nisha seemed to think this was a result of her impeccable sense of adaptation — applicable to anything, even sophisticated fashion. Levi saw it as plain shamelessness. Nothing more.

After a while, the two finally calmed down. By then, Octavia and I had settled onto the other bed. She slowly unwrapped the roasted fish and soup we’d been given, and the aroma immediately shifted the room’s attention.

Levi sniffed the air, his heterochromatic eyes lighting up.

“Hmm hmm, what’s that sumptuous smell?”

Octavia replied with obvious pride.

“It’s fish bone soup my father prepared! The bones are very sharp — like blades — so he crushes them until they’re practically nonexistent and uses them to make the broth. It’s very delicious.” She turned toward him with a bright smile. “You should try it.”

She said that last part while looking at me.

My gaze met hers with pure indignation. Serious indignation.

’What do you mean “you should try it”? Your father gave this food to us. Me and Nisha.’

Levi chuckled from where he sat, somehow reading the situation instantly.

“Haha… looks like Cade is pretty hungry. Let him have his portion first.” He offered Octavia a smile that seemed to radiate charm — the kind that made you think of red and green butterflies for some reason. “But of course, I’d love to try your father’s fish soup afterward. I’m sure he’s the best at it.”

She practically glowed. “Yes! Absolutely!! You can have my portion!!”

’Thank you, Levi. Very smooth.’

I collected the soup from her and took the wooden spoon, tearing some of the roasted fish into the broth. The first bite was a perfect combination — spicy but balanced, with a warmth that sank into my tired bones. The soup itself had gone lukewarm, and I had the impression it would’ve tasted even better hot. But right now, I didn’t care. Food was food.

After finishing my portion, I thought about saving the rest. But it would most likely spoil, so I had to relinquish it to them.

While they ate, Nisha updated the others on why we’d arrived late. First, the bandit attack — which had been an obvious trap set for us. Then my classmates catching up, leading to Emma’s abduction. And finally, the Inquisitor and Rivermarrow.

The Inquisitor was what shook them.

Levi’s expression turned wary. “What? That’s not possible. There’s no way the church in Aetheris could’ve pulled one so quickly. They don’t have one in their jurisdiction.”

Tristan folded his arms, leaning against the wall beside the window. The light cast half his face in shadow.

“If Lyanna was around… then that witch is in Athermere, no doubt. She could’ve pulled strings.”

Levi considered it. “It couldn’t have happened unless an Inquisitor was already around the corner.”

Tristan grimaced.

“And if an Inquisitor is around the corner, the church is up to something. Something that might be completely outside whatever’s going on in Aetheris.”

Both of them exchanged grim glances.

Then Tristan turned to me.

“Do you know what he looks like? Did you get a good look?”

’That persistent bastard — who wouldn’t, with the kind of face he was carrying around?’

“He had white hair, but not pure white. His eyes were grayish, though they glowed white when he used his essence. Wore white and gold armor.” I paused, remembering. “He also rode a wyvern. I think that’s his summon.”

The moment I said it, both their expressions changed.

“Is it a Lesser or a Greater Wyvern?”

“Greater,” Nisha answered. “Zephyrian.”

Tristan looked like he was almost trembling. Whether from shock or excitement, it was difficult to tell.

“If he has a Greater Wyvern, then he must be at least B-rank. There are very few Inquisitors that—”

“Ah, right.” I interrupted as I remembered. “He said his name was Light.”

Levi and Tristan exclaimed together.

“Oh shoot.”