I Only Summon Villainesses

The words struck me like a physical blow, unexpected and sharp.

Why would they die because we’d saved their village from bandits? The church matter was different, wasn’t it—

Nisha’s frown deepened, her voice cutting through my confusion. “Epphy… don’t tell me.”

Ephraim held his face, pain etched into every line as he looked at us. “Yes, the church is indirectly behind them. It’s been a slow drive for a while now.” His weathered hands clenched. “All the conflict arising — they’re using it to purge not just the Heretic, but us unbelievers too.”

His gaze found mine, and something cold settled in my stomach.

Nisha’s fist clenched hard enough that her knuckles sounded. “Those bastards.”

A woman pushed through the gathered villagers, her face twisted with fear and fury. “Ephraim, this is all your fault! You took in that Heretic — the church is going to come marching here first thing in the morning. They’ll burn everything to the ground. They’ll burn us all!”

The crowd behind her erupted in mutters and worried chatter, voices overlapping in rising panic.

“Silence, everyone!”

It wasn’t Ephraim who spoke. The man with the cane stepped forward, his voice carrying despite his apparent frailty. The authority in it cut through the noise like a blade.

“This is not about the Heretic. It had never been about the Heretic.” He swept his gaze across the gathered faces. “Those Radiant Faith rotters have just been looking for a perfect narrative to suppress unbelievers, even though we are perfectly within our rights according to the law. They’re greedy — they want our lands! They want our women, so their priests can rape them at night and put rotten babies in them!”

’Jesus.’ I felt my stomach turn at the bluntness of it.

He pivoted, facing everyone with fierce intensity. “So let’s not act like we didn’t know such a day was eventually coming.” His eyes locked onto mine for a heartbeat before sweeping onward. “This isn’t about the Heretic. This is about us! About protecting the heritage of our ancestors — their beliefs and their legacy!”

The words charged the atmosphere in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Something warm and fierce kindled in my chest, spreading through my ribs like embers catching flame.

Every single villager nodded, their expressions hardening. The atmosphere shifted, palpable and electric, and the people — despite their pitiful numbers — now wore the faces of farmers turned warriors.

Ephraim grabbed my arm and Nisha’s, escorting us inside with urgent speed. As the door shut behind us, he turned to me. “Quick, young man. You must leave now.”

“What?” I frowned, confusion mixing with protest. “Sir Ephraim, I’m actually a strong summoner. We can help you win this fight.”

He looked at me with something between sternness and sadness. “Will you help us win the next one? And the next one after that?” His voice dropped. “Or will you settle down here and win every battle for us? Because they won’t stop until they have what they seek.”

His eyes held mine, unblinking.

It was a sad reality, one that twisted my heart like a knotted rope pulling tight.

’He’s right. Damn it, he’s right.’

Ephraim smiled — tired but genuine — and tapped my chest with weathered fingers. “Young man, I can tell you have a good heart and mean well. Keep that. Don’t let it be a weakness — forge it into strength instead.” His hand remained there, steady. “Be discerning of when strength will benefit you, or when it will drag you down. If you keep thinking like this, it’s only a matter of time before you die.”

’Ah…’

Such cruel words. And I’d thought this man was nice.

He tapped my shoulder once more, already turning to gather provisions. “Octavia! Come quick. Follow them out of this place and meet your uncle in Mishard. He’ll take care of you for the time being.”

Octavia stood in the corner, arms folded tight across her chest in clear defiance.

Ephraim straightened, irritation flickering across his weathered features. Then he shouted, “Octavia!”

Her body trembled with the force of it.

“I want to stay with you!” Her voice cracked. “I want to fight with you, Father!”

Ephraim’s sigh was painful to hear. He looked at his daughter with an intensity that made my own chest ache. “Octavia. Don’t do this to me. You are my heritage… if you stay here, there’s no telling what will happen.” His voice softened, turning almost pleading. “Every other person sent their children out years ago, but you keep coming back here. Octavia, do you hate me that much? You want me to lose my only child?”

Octavia’s defiance crumbled the moment those words landed.

’This man knows his stuff.’

“I’m so sorry, Father. I’m sorry — I don’t hate you.” She sobbed, already moving toward him.

Ephraim pulled her into his arms, patting her back with rough gentleness. “Go with them. I promise to survive. Don’t worry — we’ve dealt with this before, haven’t we?”

Octavia nodded against his shoulder, voice muffled. “We have.”

Ephraim handed her a packed bag, then turned to me with another. “Here, they are what you’ll need.” He pressed the second bag into my hands. “This is roasted fish and bone soup. Very delicious stuff. Eat it while it’s fresh.”

His gaze moved between Nisha and me. “Mishard isn’t far — you should get there by noon, evening at the latest.”

We both nodded.

As we turned to leave, Nisha paused in the doorway, making me stop. “Thank you. For everything.”

Ephraim smiled — pleasant and warm despite everything — and nodded back. Then he gestured for Octavia to follow us.

I grabbed her hand and pulled, breaking into a run as we cleared the house.

Nisha sprinted toward the horses, calling back hastily, “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

“I took lessons as a kid!” I shouted back. “But I’m not exactly good at it!”

She scooped up Octavia as we reached the animals. “Guess you’re about to learn quickly.”

“Hell no.”

I wasn’t about to suffer through that when there was a much better solution available.

I grinned and summoned Kassie. She materialized beside me with a cold air that completely contradicted the fact that we’d just grown 0.1 fortitude closer moments ago.

“Why have you—”

I pointed at the horse immediately, cutting off whatever complaint was coming. “You’re good at riding one of these… right?”

Her featureless helmet gleamed not with visible light but with something maniacal and terrible.

I looked at her and immediately felt sorry for the horse. I’d summoned her to handle the riding — since she’d been in the Nave for more than twelve hours, there was no Spirit Essence cost — but now I was having second thoughts.

’Why does she look like that for God’s sake?’

This might have been a mistake.