I Summon Female Knights

Three days had passed since the annexation of Sector 4’s automated refinery and the awakening of Umbra.

Within the serene boundaries of El’Rock, life moved with absolute harmony. The third island, now officially designated as the Botanical Sanctuary, was saturated with rich, glowing green mana. High-tier herbs, spatial vines, and luminous moss bloomed across the terraces, filling the air with a clean, restorative aroma.

On the central island, the three Heavy Vanguard Knights stood at absolute attention near the archway leading to the armory, their armor glinting beneath the soft celestial light. The lead knight now wore the freshly assigned Eclipsed Vanguard Plate, its dark midnight-steel plates pulsing with subtle, terrifying stability.

Perched atop one of the grand alabaster pillars surrounding the throne room, Umbra rested in his human-sized default form. His five silver-runed tails draped gracefully over the carved stone edge, twitching occasionally as his bright silver eyes tracked the quiet movements of the keep.

Raphael stood by the edge of the central island’s marble overlook, staring down through the crystal-clear void sea. He wore a dark, comfortable wool coat over a simple black T-shirt and loose cargo pants.

Beside him, Julian stepped up onto the terrace. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, tapping his blue holographic tablet.

”Sovereign,” Julian began, his voice crisp and clear. ”I have just intercepted an unencrypted emergency ping from the municipal survey grid in Sector 3.”

Raphael didn’t turn around immediately, keeping his gaze fixed on the chained islands below. ”Did Apex break their retreat?”

”No,” Julian replied, a thin, knowing smirk touching his lips. ”Apex Guild remains entirely turtle-locked inside Sector 1. They haven’t sent a single contractor outside their perimeter since the refinery incident. This ping is from an unregistered rift event in Sector 3’s abandoned industrial outskirts.”

Raphael turned, his silver eyes flashing with calm interest. ”A rift?”

”A newly opened, uncalibrated dungeon,” Julian confirmed, flicking a blue holographic window toward Raphael. ”Bureau automated satellites flagged it fifteen minutes ago, but they haven’t dispatched a clearing team yet due to their current resource strain. System classification has officially labeled it Oogro.”

[UNEXPLORED ANOMALY DETECTED]

[Dungeon Name: Oogro]

[Classification: C-Tier Subterranean Warrens]

[Dominant Species: Feral Ogre Tribes (Blood-Brutes, Hunter-Scouts, Shamanic Blood-Mages)]

[Core Status: Active / Unbound]

Raphael scanned the data floating on Julian’s tablet, looking at the footage of the place. Sector 3’s outskirts were a desolate expanse of abandoned rail yards, crumbling concrete warehouses, and forgotten sewage networks. It was a dead zone far from the high-value commercial centers of Sector 1.

”C-Tier,” Raphael murmured, pondering the classification. ”A standard C-Tier rift would typically require two B-Tier contractor squads or a full C-Tier guild strike team to clear safely.”

”Correct,” Julian said, closing the tablet interface. ”The native inhabitants are Ogre variants. They are physically dense, blood-crazed humanoids with high brute strength and rudimentary blood-flame magic. Left unchecked, they will breach the containment gate within twenty-four hours and overrun the surrounding industrial ruins.”

Vanessa walked over from the main aisle of the keep, her dark silk mantle fluttering softly over her dress. Her staff tapped lightly against the stone floor as she moved, coming to stand beside Raphael with a small blush on her face. As for the reason, no one knew.

”Sector 3 lies directly adjacent to Sector 4’s refinery transport routes,” Vanessa observed smoothly, her glowing violet eyes shifting toward Raphael. ”If a wild Ogre horde escapes into the rail yards, it will disrupt the logistics lines Chief Engineer Marcus is currently establishing for our domain.”

”Then we won’t wait for the Bureau or Apex to claim it,” Raphael declared, his voice dropping into a low, commanding register. ”A C-Tier core will provide El’Rock with raw dungeon credits, spatial expansion material, and a fresh mineral node. More importantly, it offers a live testing ground for our upgraded vanguard. Besides, I’m sure I would be earning new gacha cards from this to fill El’Rock with more citizens.”

Umbra let out a low, chiming trill from his perch atop the alabaster pillar, fanning his five silver-runed tails in eager anticipation.

”Julian,” Raphael commanded, turning back toward the throne room. ”Stabilize a local Waypoint Gate directly over Sector 3’s subterranean entrance. Mask the spatial frequency so Bureau satellites register it as routine anomaly decay. I’m not ready to deal with them... yet.”

”Routing the coordinates now, My Lord,” Julian replied with a respectful bow, his fingers dancing across his tablet screen.

Within seconds, space in the center of the terrace groaned.

A circular ripple of silvery-violet light tore open in mid-air, expanding into a six-foot-wide spatial portal. The scent of damp earth, stale blood, and heavy metallic dust drifted out from the gate, contrasting sharply with the pristine, fresh air of El’Rock.

Raphael walked toward the portal, his expression cool, unbothered, and entirely expectant.

Behind him, the lead Heavy Vanguard Knight stepped into formation, followed closely by his two iron companions. The Shadow Assassin melted off the roof of the keep, vanishing into Raphael’s shadow on the floor. Umbra launched himself into the air with a soft rustle of midnight feathers, shrinking down to a microscopic black speck that hovered seamlessly above Raphael’s collar.

Vanessa fell into step right beside Raphael, her staff humming with a soft, steady gravitational hum.

”Vanessa,” Raphael spoke as they reached the threshold of the portal. ”Command the front line. Let the knights take the initial wave, use Umbra for flank suppression, and keep the Shadow Assassin in reserve for high-value targets.”

”Understood, Sovereign,” Vanessa replied, her violet eyes shining with quiet, unshakeable devotion. ”We shall cleanse Oogro in your name.”

Raphael took the first step through the gateway, stepping out of the sky sanctuary and descending into the dark, blood-scented warrens of the subterranean rift.

...

In a dark subterranean realm untouched by the sun, the warrens of Oogro throbbed with raw, predatory life.

It was an ecosystem forged in blood, iron, and ancient Ley-line heat. Massive, bioluminescent crimson moss clung to the vaulted basalt ceilings like weeping veins, shedding a warm, ember-like glow across sprawling subterranean caverns. Rivers of thick, mineral-rich magma cut through the lower trenches, feeding high-density iron deposits and heating the humid air to a stagnant, iron-scented simmer.

Here, the Ogre tribes did not merely survive; they thrived in violent, unyielding prosperity.

In the high cavernous halls, Hunter-Scouts stalked giant subterranean dire-boars through forests of calcified stone totems. In the lower courts, thick-necked Berserkers sparred over fresh meat, their guttural roars echoing off walls adorned with the polished bone trophies of rival beasts.

At the center of it all, high atop carved wooden platforms overlooking molten pools, the Shamanic Blood-Mages channeled the wild, unrefined mana of the rift, weaving volatile blood-flames to forge crude weapons and empower their brood.

Oogro was a self-sustaining engine of brutal hierarchy, a primordial fortress hidden just out of sight in the concrete skin of Jiston, waiting for the spark that would breach its gates and unleash its iron-bound horde upon the world above.