I Only Summon Villainesses

Pain. Pain.

Where was the pain coming from? It wasn’t like I had been struck, but my body felt cold — my blood particularly — and I was beginning to get really concerned about my breathing.

’Lira!’

Clara. Tristan. Baba. Everyone!

With a staggered, wobbly movement — almost falling over Victoria — I managed to cross the reception, entering the guild hall.

What I saw…

My eyes widened. The entire world around me seemed to take a sharp spin as an inhuman palette of blood scattered across the wooden beams, the walls, the tables and chairs came into focus. People. Everyone. Men were gutted all over the place, their bodies cold and drained of all color, all life. Some had even died on top of each other, collapsed in gruesome piles.

The bartender’s body was struck to the shelf of ale by a sharp, rough spear — pinned there — so he hung in a macabre display, his prosthetic hand dangling down, head slumped forward.

My heart was beating so loudly. My chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. My face didn’t feel like my own because it contorted in a manner I had long forgotten. The only time I remembered making a face like this — one of utter pain and sorrow — was when I lost my mother at nine.

I had forgotten I too could wear an expression like this.

More than the pain that constricted my lungs, heart, and throat — more than the urge to bend over and scream until my voice gave out — was fear. Terrifying, all-consuming fear.

I pivoted sharply and ran toward the kitchen. Slammed into the door. Stared around.

The scene was even more terrible than the one outside. The kitchen staff were slumped over the massive tables, blood splattered across food they’d been preparing. Everything was scattered. People in white aprons now stained a painful red lay in awkward positions, slaughtered with inhuman brutality.

My throat was dry.

I staggered forward, weak in the legs, toward the entrance that led to the backyard. Baba lay dead, face flat on the ground. His left hand was extended, and from there another hand was connected. My gaze followed it. The rest of the body was beneath the table, face down too — but his back was clear enough for me to recognize him.

’Pele…’

I tried to speak his name aloud, but my voice failed me.

I staggered forward still, each step heavier than the last.

’Lira. She’s not here. Have to… find Lira.’

The pain laced through every movement as I opened the back door. Just beyond the threshold, with dried blood that had leaked for what looked like hours, Clara lay slumped on the ground. Her back leaned against a metal shelf situated beside the wall between her room and the kitchen door.

My hands trembled. Cold sweat dripped beneath my clothes as I lost strength in my legs and slowly went to my knees before her.

I tried to shout, but my voice had suddenly gone. I had lost it ten years ago — that voice of pain. Still, my heart weighed so heavily, hurt so much, like needles were being driven into it with deliberate cruelty.

’Pain. So much pain. Can’t breathe through it.’

Clara was dead. Baba was dead. Pele was dead. Victoria was dead. Everyone in the mercenary guild was dead.

“Aaarrgghhhhhhh…” The sound tore from my throat gutturally, hoarse and pitiful.

’Lira! Lira!’

I had never been an avid believer in religion. My mother had been, though. Yet she got sick. I prayed on her behalf — we prayed together. Yet she died. So I stopped believing. But right now… I found myself clinging to that faint hope. Clearly hadn’t learned my lesson the last time.

I was desperate.

Lira did not deserve to die. Nobody deserved to. But I owed Lira so much — these past three weeks, with how everything had been in the beginning, had become tolerable, memorable, beautiful because of her.

It would break me if anything happened to Lira.

I forced myself up and looked around more carefully, but found no one else. I spent more minutes searching, turning over debris, checking corners — but there was still no one.

After making sure Lira wasn’t here, I decided to go to her house or the clinic. I couldn’t properly navigate the way to her house, but I was going to try. I’d ask around, get there somehow.

I stepped back into the kitchen, taking in the macabre scene with so much pain stabbing through my heart. The entire place was silent. Deadly silent. The chatters, the laughs, the smell of ale and life and food — all gone, replaced by the sharp tang of metal and the pungent stench of death.

In the silence, though… I suddenly heard a small sob.

I frowned. Maybe I was the one making that sound. But then it came again. And again.

Quickly, I traced it to one of the cabinets. I yanked it open — and there she was. A girl with short blue hair, curled into the cramped space, crying. She jolted with shock the moment I opened it, eyes wide and terrified. But as she recognized me, relief washed over her features. She lunged out, flying into me, hugging me tight and breaking down with a loud, painful cry.

“Ca—Ca… arrrghhhhh, everyone is dead! They killed everyone! Agghhhhhhrhhhh!”

She screamed and cried with so much pain in her voice it felt like glass scraping against my ears.

Tears rolled down my face — I had no idea when they’d started. I stayed there, bent down, and patted her back. No matter how inconvenient it was, no matter how badly I needed answers, I didn’t move until she was done crying.

She managed to calm down somewhat. I gently held her shoulders, meeting her reddened eyes.

“Emma… I need you to tell me — Lira. Do you know where Lira is? What happened here?”

She sobbed and wiped at her eyes, only to sob more.

“Aunty Lira! They took her. The Light Paladins! They killed everyone!” She cried again, voice breaking.

My throat was so dry, but I swallowed hard.

The poor girl was in so much pain, and I felt unfair bombarding her with questions — but I still shamelessly pressed. She was my only hope right now.

“Emma, talk to me, please. Who took Lira? Where did they take her?”

She managed to wipe her tears again, calming her sobs just a little — enough to speak through the hitching breaths.

“The soldiers… they said the Queen wanted to see her. After that…” She sobbed painfully again. “After that, the Light Paladins walked in and began killing everyone. Pele — Pele hid me here and told me not to make any sound. Not to come out. Ever.”

She hiccupped, and her voice cracked as she spoke.

One thing settled in my mind with crystalline clarity.

The church… and the kingdom itself were prime suspects.

Rage boiled in my chest, hot and violent and demanding action. But first — first I had to find Lira.

’The palace. Have to hurry. Before it’s too late.’