Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Lancet and Renan disappeared into the blue motes of light, and reappeared on the floor of the Higher Dungeons, right outside the Gate of the one they had just cleared.

Lancet wanted to take a deep breath, but he immediately held it, worried that it would be as loud as a bell. Outside here, absolute silence filled the place.

Every single face in the Dungeon Hall was turned upward, staring directly at them.

Lancet wiped a smear of red dust from his cheek and began to walk down the marble stairs to the main floor, Renan trailing half a step behind him.

Their shoes went clack, clack, clack, against the steps, echoing through the hall like a metronome. It all amplified the unbelievable thing that had just been broadcast on the screens.

When their boots finally hit the ground floor, the Head Dungeon Instructor stepped forward. He adjusted his mike, though in the dead silence, he barely needed it.

”This week’s Dungeon Clearing expedition has concluded,” the scarred veteran announced, his voice booming over the gathered freshmen.

He looked directly at the Summoner section, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ”And for the first time in the history of Awakener Supreme... the winners of this week’s expedition are Summoner-D!”

For a split second, the Summoner-D students just stood there, completely paralyzed. The ”Dull Rank” was so used to being the punchline of the Academy that the words didn’t compute.

Then, everyone was hit with the realization.

Maecil Gudgarten let out a loud, breathless gasp, instantly covering her mouth with both hands as her eyes welled up with tears of sheer joy.

Behind her, the Summoner-D students erupted. The underdogs grinned ear-to-ear, aggressively shaking hands, slapping backs, and throwing high-fives.

For the first time since enrollment, they were standing tall over the Elementalists, the Specialists and the Enchanters.

Over in the Elementalist section, Phiodor Blaze looked like he had just been force-fed a lemon. He crossed his arms tightly, his face twisting into a scowl of pure, unadulterated disdain.

”This historic victory,” the Head Instructor continued, raising a hand to quiet the celebration, ”is due to the collective, outstanding efforts of Kasto Merrick, Luke Travers, Min Tu Akaran, and...”

The instructor paused, his eyes locking onto the boy in the dusty tracksuit. ”...the MVP for the second week in a row, Lancet Leogardt!”

The reaction was immediate, and painfully telling.

When the other names were called, there was polite applause. When Lancet’s name dropped, the clapping across the hall instantly withered into a weak, quiet smattering.

The jealousy, the lingering prejudice against his ”slum rat” origins, and the fact that he owned Astensia and her power kept the applause stifled.

Except for Miss Maecil. The joyful instructor was clapping so loudly and proudly that her palms were probably bruised, beaming at him like a proud mother.

Lancet looked out over the sea of conflicted, glaring faces with no particular expression. He didn’t really care about their applause, so they could keep it.

Things were working out for him anyway.

He felt a heavy, armored hand tap his shoulder. He turned his head to see Renan looking at him.

The protagonist’s expression was surprisingly friendly, though Lancet thought he saw bruised pride somewhere in his silver eyes.

”Congrats, Leogardt,” Renan said with a short smile. Without waiting for a response, the Heavenly Knight turned and walked down the aisle, rejoining the golden children of Specialist-D.

Lancet stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled over to his own class group.

As soon as he crossed the threshold into the Summoner-D section, Miss Maecil excitedly stepped right up to him, her eyes shining behind her glasses.

”Lancet, that was... I have no words,” Maecil gushed, a massive, uncharacteristic grin on her face. ”I would give you a hug right now if I could!”

Lancet smiled nervously. Looking at her, he almost wanted her to. But before those naughty naughty thoughts could simmer any further, Lancet hurriedly chased them away.

”I can’t believe it,” Maecil continued, gesturing toward the Class Group Leaderboard. ”Summoner-D on top. It almost feels like a dream!”

Lancet turned his attention to the final Tributes distribution hovering in bright, glowing letters:

[ 1. Summoner-D : 780 Tributes ]

[ 2. Specialist-D : 700 Tributes ]

[ 3. Elementalist-D : 665 Tributes ]

[ 4. Enchanter-D : 660 Tributes ]

The point spread was remarkably close between the bottom three, as it usually was amongst all Class Groups. But today, Summoner-D had ripped ahead, giving them a fairly massive, undisputed cushion of space at the top.

Lancet was approached by Gerard, the Dungeon Hall Instructor, who congratulated him and informed him what his rewards were.

”Your Academy Account has been credited with 5000 Profits, and you’ve received a One-Week Universal Free Pass. This grants you unlimited access to any Academy training or educational facility.”

Lancet considered the rewards. ’5000 Profits. Wow. I’m rich... for exactly three seconds.’

He already knew exactly where that money was going. It was flying straight into the gaping black hole of his medical debt. The Academy Account would automatically deduct it, leaving his total balance sitting at a depressing -1000 Profits.

’Well, at least the mountain is shrinking,’ Lancet rationalized. ’All I have to do now is avoid having to go there again so I don’t grow more debt.’

The Free Pass was the more enticing reward. Students were allowed to freely use the normal training facilities, but the Elite training facilities with numerous settings to create replicate arenas and beasts or demons, cost hundreds of Profits per hour to rent.

With this pass, he had unrestricted access for an entire week.

It was also absolute perfect timing. If Astensia was going to honor her promise to train him how to fight, they were going to need a private, reinforced arena where she could properly beat him into shape.

”Leogardt!”

A harsh, arrogant bark cut through the chatter of the Summoners and Lancet’s own thoughts.

He glanced sideways. Phiodor Blaze was stalking toward the Summoner-D section, his fiery red cape snapping behind him.

The Elementalist Instructor threw his shoulders back, his chin raised in a posture of aggressive, unquestionable superiority, clearly intending to talk down to the boy who had just humiliated his Class Group.

But Lancet didn’t even acknowledge him. He simply turned his head the other way, staring blankly at a nearby pillar.

’Ah, the sweet bliss of selective hearing.’

Besides, there was a much more important voice that had just called him.

”Mr. Leogardt.”

The low, authoritative voice made the entire immediate area freeze.

Lancet, along with Maecil, Phiodor, and half the surrounding students, turned toward the doors of the Dungeon Hall.

Dean Ordenance was standing there. The shadows of his midnight-blue robes seemed to absorb the ambient light. He looked squarely at Lancet, gesturing politely toward the open doorway.

”May I have another word with you?” the Dean asked.

A fresh wave of frantic, jealous muttering instantly swept through the freshmen.

”What is this?”

”Why does he get to hang out with the Dean so much?”

”Is he getting expelled for cheating? He has to be cheating!”

Lancet completely ignored the whispers. He stood up a little straighter, offering a respectful nod.

”Of course, sir,” Lancet replied smoothly.

Without a second glance, Lancet walked away from Phiodor Blaze. There was no gloating or sneering; Lancet treated the fiery instructor like he was nothing more than a piece of uninteresting furniture taking up space in the Hall.

He left Phiodor standing there, completely ignored and fuming in front of his own students.

Maecil even noticed it and smiled. She was having a great day.

Meanwhile, in the Specialist-D section, Renan Falconhart was watching him walk away. The protagonist’s silver eyes were narrowed as he tried to piece together the anomaly that was Lancet Leogardt.