Starting With an SSS-Rank Goddess Summon!

The afternoon sun was already beginning to dip below the towering skyline of Valoria City by the time Silas made it to the central commercial district.

His jacket pocket felt significantly heavier, but not because of the physical weight as nestled inside was a brand-new Spirit Phone.

It looked similar to the sleek, glass-paneled smartphones from Earth, but it ran entirely on a localized mana network. It was the premier device for Awakened Lords, and buying it had been his first stop and his second stop had been real estate.

Being an officially recognized Lord with an Excellent-Grade Blue Core meant the normal rules of society no longer applied to him.

When he walked into a high-end leasing office in the Silverleaf District, he hadn’t needed credit checks or a guarantor.

The moment his Lord registry pinged their system, the brokers had practically fallen over themselves to clear the lines and offer him a massive discount.

He had dropped 50,000 Spirit Credits... half of his entire state-sponsored signing bonus on a sprawling, three-bedroom apartment in one of the safest wards in the city. To a normal citizen, 50,000 SC was a decade of wages but to Silas, it was an investment in his own survival.

After buying some clean, minimalist clothes, he finally arrived at his ultimate destination: the Lord Association Weapons Exchange.

The Exchange was a massive, brutalist stone building that looked more like a military bunker than a retail store.

The Lord Association had countless facilities scattered across the city, but this one was entirely dedicated to arming the newly Awakened before their Novice Trials.

Silas pushed through the heavy reinforced glass doors.

The interior was cavernous, lined with glowing runic displays showcasing everything from heavy battleaxes to sleek sniper rifles powered by magical cores.

He needed a weapon... The State had given him a Standard Weapon Chest filled with iron swords, but those were meant for his future troops.

Standard steel was practically useless to a Lord. If Silas tried to channel his dense mana through a regular iron blade, the metal would instantly superheat and shatter into shrapnel.

He needed a Spirit Weapon which was gear forged with magical conductors that allowed a Lord to weaponize their own mana.

Silas walked up to the sleek obsidian counter in the center of the room. The receptionist, a slick-haired man wearing an expensive tailored vest, looked Silas up and down, noting his plain unbranded clothing.

”I need a simple magic weapon,” Silas said, leaning against the glass counter. ”A Spirit Sword. Something reliable with no flashy enchantments.”

”Of course, my Lord,” The receptionist said. ”For a newly Awakened entering the Outer Expanse, you cannot afford to cut corners on your safety.”

The man reached under the counter and pulled out a massive, heavily ornamented broadsword. The blade was etched with glowing crimson runes, and the hilt was studded with low-tier fire crystals.

”This is the Inferno Cleaver,” the receptionist said smoothly. ”Forged with wyvern bone. It passively generates a heat aura. A steal at only 45,000 Spirit Credits.”

Silas frowned.

He knew the absolute minimum baseline for a functional Spirit Weapon was around 10,000 SC. This guy was trying to bleed his entire account dry on a ceremonial paperweight.

”I said simple,” Silas replied with his voice flattening. ”I don’t need—”

”He said simple, not a glowing target that will alert every Spirit Beast in a five-mile radius to his location.”

Silas blinked and looked to his right.

Standing a few feet away, browsing a display of throwing knives, was Elora. Her pale blonde hair caught the ambient light of the armory, and her sharp icy blue eyes were fixed in a deadpan stare on the receptionist.

The receptionist cleared his throat with his slick demeanor faltering for a second. ”Miss Elora, I was simply showing the gentleman our premier stock—”

”You’re showing him dead stock because your commission on the Inferno Cleaver is twenty percent,” Elora interrupted smoothly.

She walked over to Silas, ignoring the clerk completely. ”I’ll guide him so put that overpriced flashlight away.”

The clerk thinned his lips into a hard line, clearly furious, but he didn’t dare argue with the daughter of the City Lord.

He quietly slid the broadsword back under the counter.

Silas looked at Elora. ”Thank you.”

”Don’t worry about it,” Elora said, her gaze scanning the racks of weapons behind the glass. ”These clerks prey on newly Awakened Lords who don’t know the market value of Spirit gear. That guy is just greedy. What kind of weapon are you actually looking for?”

”A sword wouldn’t be bad,” Silas said pragmatically. ”Just something that conducts mana smoothly without burning out.”

Elora gestured for him to follow her down the aisle. She bypassed the glowing, flashy weapons and stopped in front of a rack of sleek, unadorned blades.

”Here,” she said, pointing to a perfectly balanced matte-black longsword. ”It’s a standard-issue Silversteel Spirit Sword with no elemental enchantments, but the core is lined with mythril dust. It will channel your mana with near-zero resistance, and it won’t shatter if you hit a monster’s bone. The price is twelve thousand Spirit Credits I’m sure.”

It was exactly what he needed... It was clean, efficient, and lethal.

”I’ll take it,” Silas said.

They walked back to the counter together.

Elora picked out a pair of sleek mana-conducting daggers for herself. When Silas tapped his Spirit Phone against the runic ledger to transfer the 12,000 SC, the receptionist’s lips thinned even further as he was clearly bitter about losing his massive commission.

Outside the heavy doors of the Exchange, the cool evening air was a welcome relief from the dense magic of the armory.

Elora strapped the daggers to her waist and looked at Silas.

There was a quiet, mutual understanding between them. They were both predators preparing to step into the same dark forest.

”Good luck with your trial, Graves,” Elora said, giving him a curt nod.

”Same to you, Verinda.” Silas replied.

She turned and walked down the bustling street, disappearing into the crowd. Silas gripped the hilt of his new sword, feeling the mythril against his palm and called a mag-cab.

By the time the cab dropped him off in the Silverleaf District, the sun had fully set.

This neighborhood was entirely different from the slums Silas had spent the last decade surviving in. The streets were immaculately paved and lined with glowing mana-lamps... There was no smell of rust or alchemical runoff in the air, it was just the crisp scent of manicured pine trees.

As Silas walked down the wide sidewalk, a few of the wealthy residents walking their engineered pets cast lingering glances his way.

His new clothes were entirely minimalist: a plain black coat and jean trousers. In a district where people wore tailored alchemical silk just to check the mail, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Silas didn’t care. He pulled out his new Spirit Phone, checking the map application that guided him straight to the front of a massive, modern apartment complex.

He walked into the pristine lobby, took the elevator to the top floor, and stopped in front of a heavy, reinforced steel door. He tapped his Spirit Phone against the locking mechanism.

A green rune flared, and the deadbolts heavily clicked open.

Silas pushed the door open and stepped inside... He immediately hit the light switch, taking a slow, quiet tour of his new home.

It was stunning as the hardwood floors gleamed.

The massive living room featured floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the glowing Valoria City skyline. The kitchen was outfitted with top-of-the-line preservation units, and the three bedrooms were larger than the entire apartment he had lived in yesterday.

It had cost him 50,000 SC, but feeling the heavy, impenetrable walls around him, he knew it was worth every single credit.

Silas walked into the master bedroom. He opened his Lord Inventory with a mental command, visualizing the rest of the new, minimalist clothing he had purchased earlier.

With a soft hum of light, the clothes materialized on the bed. He spent a few minutes meticulously hanging each new pair of jeans and shirts in the massive walk-in closet.

As he hung up the last jacket, he paused, catching a whiff of his own collar.

Silas grimaced.

”Man, I stink...”

Ten years of living in a rusted-out slum, sweating through the Awakening Ceremony, and stressing over his core had left him smelling like cheap metal and anxiety.

He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the personal, spa-style bathroom. Turning the dial, a cascade of perfectly heated, purified water rained down on him.

Silas stood under the spray for a long time, letting the scalding water wash away the grime, the exhaustion, and the bitter memories of the last decade.

He watched the dirt swirl down the drain, taking his old life with it. When he finally stepped out of the glass enclosure, he felt lighter and sharper... almost like a newly forged blade.

He dried off and dressed quickly, pulling on a fresh black hoodie and dark shorts as he strapped the matte-black scabbard of his Spirit Sword to his waist.

Walking downstairs to the heavy front door, Silas pressed his palm against the central security rune.

”Activate Spirit Lock...” He commanded.

The rune flared a brilliant, aggressive crimson. Heavy titanium deadbolts slammed into the reinforced door frame with a deafening thud.

The Spirit Lock was a high-tier security measure standard in Lord-class housing. Once activated from the inside, absolutely no one... not even the City Lord’s elite guard could open the door without blowing the entire building apart so his things were safe.

Silas walked back to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the plush mattress. He rested his hands on the pommel of his Spirit Sword, took a deep breath and pulled up his interface.

It was time...

He focused his mind on the glowing [Descent] tab and tapped it.

Instantly, the quiet hum of the city outside vanished. The physical world around him seemed to violently shudder.

The walls of his luxurious new apartment melted away into absolute, pitch-black nothingness.

Silas felt weightless, floating in a void of pure sensory deprivation as the Sovereign Realm’s magic took hold of his soul and began dragging him across dimensions.

In the darkness, glowing text materialized directly in front of his eyes.

[Lord Entity Recognized. Welcome to your first descent into the Outer Expanse.]

[You have automatically entered the Novice Trial. This is the ordeal, the crucible, and the reward bestowed upon you by the Sovereign Realm.]

[Directive: Survive for seven days. Defend your Core. The better your performance, the richer the rewards upon your return.]

[Warning: The Novice Trial offers only one chance. May the Immortals and Gods bless your path.]

Silas read the final line with his grip tightening on his sword and immediately after that, he was completely swallowed into the darkness.