I Only Summon Amazon Giantesses

Along the way, Hermione suddenly stopped in her tracks, a slightly shocked expression crossing her face. Mark glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised in quiet curiosity.

”Oh no, I probably need to get to the library. I left my books there, I’ll be right back.”

She turned as if to head off in another direction entirely, but Mark’s voice made her pause once more. ”So you’re trying to tell me that you don’t have a locker to store your books and belongings like every other student here does?”

”I don’t have one. Everything’s back at my apartment. But somehow I still left a few books at the library, and I need to go claim them before they end up misplaced among all the others there.”

Mark shrugged lightly, unbothered. ”Whatever. Fair enough.”

Hermione turned left, disappearing down another hallway, while Mark continued forward on his own. His expression settled back into its usual placid calm the moment she was gone, an expression that had become second nature to him by now. This was simply how he had learned to move through his life as a student here, quiet and unremarkable, and it had long since become a part of who he was.

And yet, somehow, Hermione’s presence always managed to lift something in his chest, changing his expression in ways nothing else seemed to. He genuinely loved that small, blissful feeling that settled over him whenever she was near.

A junior with a shaved head and a broad, heavy build stood watching through a floor to ceiling glass wall, his eyes narrowed in quiet focus, before he finally turned to face the school king, who sat comfortably with one leg crossed over the other. The king, his hair a striking shade of pumpkin orange, tilted his head slightly, resting it against his left hand, his eyebrows lifting behind his square framed spectacles as he noticed the expression on Goro’s face, his knight and trusted assistant in matters concerning his duties.

A chessboard sat on the table before him. Across from it sat Quinn, a girl with wild, freestyle sapphire hair, her sharp blue eyes locked intently on the pieces scattered across the board. Her striking, almond shaped eyes and refined features were enough to make even upperclassmen and certain staff members fall quietly under her spell. Yet no one ever dared approach her directly, not with the icy demeanor that had earned her the fitting title of the school’s Frost Queen.

”I don’t know, but that new transfer girl from the Phoenix family keeps hanging around that boy. I honestly can’t figure out what she sees in him that’s enough to hold her attention like that. I even heard they sit next to each other in class.” Goro, the knight, shook his head slowly, clearly puzzled by the whole situation.

”Arnold, it sounds like you’re being outmatched by her presence. She draws attention wherever she goes, though I couldn’t tell you whether it’s her status or simply her striking appearance and charm doing the work. She might even end up becoming the next queen of this school one day,” Thalia remarked, a girl with curly green hair, speaking quietly just behind Arnold’s ear. She held the title of Sage within the king’s inner circle, one of the high numbered students of Amstral High, ranked fifth among those granted the privilege of standing closest to the king.

The high numbered ranks were made up of the student council, the school’s most celebrated beauties, and those who carried real status and influence within its walls. They were the ones who held real sway over the school’s activities and programs, shaping much of what happened behind the scenes.

The king, as student in chief, wielded considerable influence and authority over student affairs and their overall well being within the institution. He functioned almost like the headmaster’s right hand, second only to the man’s own personal assistant. With that authority behind him, he had built his own domain, surrounding himself with the high numbered students and the top members of the school’s most elite club.

Terra Club stood as the highest and most prominent club in the entire school, and the king himself sat at the very top of its ranks, alongside the Queen, the Ace, the Knight, and the Sage. The school magazine’s top beauties also held places among its prime members, in a club that countless students quietly longed to be part of.

The club was so exclusive, so widely admired, that it remained nearly impossible for most students to join unless they already carried a certain level of status. Some might have called it isolation, or perhaps a quiet kind of superiority never meant to exist within an ordinary school club, but none of that criticism ever seemed to change a single thing under the king’s steady influence.

”Am I supposed to feel intimidated by that? We don’t always have to fight our way through things. We could simply bring her into our league instead.” Arnold’s words made Thalia blink in visible surprise. If anything, she hadn’t expected the king to approach the situation with such an unusually friendly angle. Normally, he preferred to devise careful plans meant to bring his potential rivals down before they ever had the chance to rise.

”Don’t you realize she’s the heir to the Phoenix clan, one of the most famous and powerful families in the entire region? We need to fall in line with her, and that means removing the boy from her path entirely.” The king leaned back comfortably against his chair, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips.

”And never assume that some little girl could simply take my position. If anyone deserves it, it should be Mia Brookson! That girl is stronger, tougher, and far more capable of filling this role than anyone else I can think of.” Quinn’s eyes flicked briefly toward Thalia, a subtle gleam passing through them. Everyone in the room seemed to notice the faint drop in temperature that followed, the air growing colder and heavier around them, before it eased back to normal. Still, that brief chill was more than enough to send a shiver of cold dread running through Thalia.

She had remained silent since the conversation began, entirely absorbed in her chess match against the king. But the mere suggestion that her position might be threatened by some unwanted rival was enough to provoke a reaction so sharp and immediate that she could hardly contain it. Had this not been school grounds, where a fragile sense of law and order still technically held, things might easily have taken a far more dangerous turn.

Arnold laced his fingers together with a faint smirk, leaning in closer over the chessboard. It was already his turn to move, though he had clearly been distracted for some time. Picking up his bishop, he slid it across the board and eliminated one of her pawns.

”Speaking of which, what about that mundy who recently got himself a summon? What was his name again?” He glanced toward Goro from the corner of his eye, waiting for the answer.

”That’s Mark Moulow, whose father once held a Three eyed Cyclops as his summon. The son of that very man turned from being seen as something of a hero to a genuine menace, at least in the eyes of some, ever since his own summon began growing stronger.” Goro’s words drew Quinn’s gaze toward him, curious.

”He was nothing more than an ordinary mundy when he first arrived here, and yet now he’s shaping up to be a real potential rival to us. It’s honestly hard to believe he’s come this far.” Arnold paused for a moment before continuing.

”I ordered Derek Dricks to deal with him properly, to make sure the boy left this school regretting the day he ever set foot here in the first place. And he failed, completely. He failed at the one simple task I gave him.” His fists clenched involuntarily at his sides before he finally forced himself to release them.

He turned his gaze toward three particular figures standing near his chair, each carrying a terrifying, predatory presence that seemed to fill the space around them. His eyes lingered thoughtfully on each one in turn before finally settling on the man standing in the middle.

”Lionel, go give Derek the retribution he’s earned. He needs to pay properly for his failure, and this isn’t some small matter, not when the order came directly from me.”

Lionel, a man with a solid, well built frame, had long yellow hair streaked with black roots that fell across his shoulders, three red tattoo marks running like a totemic sigil from his temple down to his eye. He smiled slowly, revealing sharp, pointed canines, his eyes gleaming with a cold, predatory light.

”Yes, King. Whatever you command shall be carried out, and justice will be delivered accordingly.”

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