Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Thirty minutes later, everyone was on their beds. Lights were still on but the only sounds in the room were Kasto’s light snoring and the regular turning of Luke’s comic book pages.

Up on his top bunk, Lancet reached under his pillow and carefully slid out the thick, leather-bound book he’d taken from the library.

Heroes of Our Past: A Record of the Greatest Awakeners.

His heart did a familiar, thrilling flutter against his ribs. He had already proven that his Lore Attunement worked perfectly when he found Astensia’s entry.

But his curiosity wanted him to check for Thor’s. So he did.

He flipped past the front sections, his eyes darting across the archaic text. He skipped past the ’A’s, blowing past Astensia’s page with a fond smile, and thumbed rapidly toward the back of the tome.

T... T... Ta... Th...

There. Page 342.

Lancet held his breath. The illustration took up the entire left page, and it was breathtaking.

It depicted a towering, craggy peak—undoubtedly the Crumbling Blue—beneath a sky completely blackened by ash and swirling vortexes of Gehenna’s magic.

Standing at the precipice was Thor. Her voluminous white hair was captured mid-whip in the violent wind, her piercing eyes glowing with lightning.

She held the Hammer of Force high above her head, acting as a lightning rod for a cataclysmic, blinding bolt of raw electricity that tore down from the heavens, illuminating the swarms of shadowy demons crawling up the mountainside.

Lancet covered his mouth to hide a chuckle. ’Fucking awesome.’

Below the magnificent artwork, the bold, archaic text announced her name:

THOR STORMCHILD

The Battery of Brutality, Child of Storm, Thunder of Devilfall.

Lancet devoured the paragraphs beneath it. The text seamlessly integrated every single detail he had typed into the system.

It spoke of the Era of Ash, her position as the strongest of the Five Valkyries, and her holy mandate to eradicate evil.

And there, written as a factual historical record, was the tragic tale of Devilfall. Lancet read how Servont sacrificed himself, and how Thor, the last of her sisters, died fighting the Demon Head.

A big, satisfied grin spread across his face. ’All a stroke of my genius.’

He gently closed the heavy book and tucked it safely back under his pillow.

Things had gone perfectly. All that was left now was to actually get the Heroine of Thunder to agree to be his loyal Summon.

With Astensia, he had earned her subservience by showing that he truly needed her help, that he was someone who had faith in her goodness, her code. Then he made her pledge her loyalty.

But Thor was different. She didn’t really care about any of those ideas; she demanded a worthy master. And that meant a fearless one, one who wouldn’t flinch in the face of absolute devastation.

Lancet had ideas for how he would prove it to her. It wasn’t going to be easy, but that was why he did it.

That was the entire point.

Thor was a real person now, she had her ideals and motives. She wasn’t going to abandon all of it just to please him. So Lancet had to give her a reason.

But for now, as he had planned all day, it was time to cash in his spoils.

It was time to spend his EXP.

Lights out came. It always came early for the Bronze Dorms as it was the Academy’s way of saving electricity.

Lancet heard Luke close his comic book and adjust in his bed to go to sleep. He was still for a while before returning to his floating screen.

Lancet had purposefully waited until the evening to do this. The idea was rooted in basic biology and how the system interacted with the physical vessel.

His grueling morning training session had pushed his body to its limits, creating thousands of micro-tears in his muscle fibers. By waiting until his body was in a state of rest and repair to pump raw EXP into his physical attributes, the system would use that energy to hyper-accelerate the healing process, rebuilding those torn fibers infinitely denser and stronger.

It was the most optimal way to solidify his gains.

And yes, he learned the trick from Renan himself.

⸢ Profile: Lancet Leogardt ⸥

⸢ Class: Architect (Dull) - Note: Available for reevaluation ⸥

⸢ Rank: 1★ Bronze ⸥

⸢ Level: 2/50 ⸥

⸢ Grace: 620/1250 ⸥

⸢ Weapon: — ⸥

⸢ Power: Omnipotent Character Manipulation ⸥

⸢ Skills: Heroine Creation ⸥

He mentally swiped to his stats, watching the screen expand to display his current vessel’s parameters.

⸢ Attributes: ⸥

⸢ Strength: 31 ⸥

⸢ Agility: 43 ⸥

⸢ Constitution: 30 ⸥

⸢ Intelligence: 39 ⸥

⸢ Dexterity: 50 ⸥

⸢ Retention: 1250 ⸥

Below it, his current EXP pool displayed an enticing number: [ EXP: 12,680 ].

So much to spend thanks to the Orc King Higher Dungeon.

”Alright system,” Lancet muttered under his breath. ”Let’s do this.”

First, he decided to feed the system’s intended path. While he loved breaking the meta and acting as a frontline tank, it was undeniably foolish to completely ignore the system’s auto-allocations.

At the end of the day, Lancet was fundamentally a Summoner. To command and anchor two Platinum-Rank legends without passing out from Grace depletion, he desperately needed the Attributes his Class naturally prioritized to be high enough.

He mentally sectioned off a chunk of his points and confirmed.

⸢ Allow 6,000 EXP to be assigned by the system? ⸥

Lancet selected [YES]

Ding!

⸢ Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! ⸥

⸢ You are now Level 6. ⸥

A sudden, icy coolness washed over his brain.

Lancet’s dull, constant mental fatigue disappeared completely. He could think faster now; it was as if he were staring through a dirty window that had just been cleaned after a rainstorm.

Without effort, he was able to calculate how far he could move and how much Grace it would require. The amount of Grace in his channels felt easier; flowing through without stagnation, allowing the threads that connected him to his two summons to be stronger.

He checked the updated attributes.

⸢ Intelligence: 39 → 82 ⸥

⸢ Dexterity: 50 → 88 ⸥

⸢ Strength: 31 → 35 ⸥

⸢ Agility: 43 → 48 ⸥

⸢ Constitution: 30 → 32 ⸥

Lancet nodded in approval. The system had, as expected, heavily favored his mental and casting stats, only giving token points to his physical attributes. ”Good enough. Now for the real workout.”

He still had 6,680 EXP remaining, which he had saved for manual allocation.

He grabbed the remaining points and forcefully shoved them into his physical foundation, completely ignoring the system telling him to use auto allocation.

He dumped heavy loads into Strength and Constitution, bolstered his Agility, and threw the rest into Intelligence.

⸢ Manual Allocation Confirmed ⸥

Ding!

⸢ Level Up! Level Up! Level Up! ⸥

⸢ You are now Level 9 ⸥

⸢ Strength: 35 → 65 ⸥

⸢ Agility: 48 → 75 ⸥

⸢ Constitution: 32 → 60 ⸥

⸢ Intelligence: 82 → 90 ⸥

A soothing, revitalizing warmth flooded his limbs, instantly wiping away the lingering fatigue of his morning training.

But not just that, he felt his muscles expand, forming tighter, denser cords of power across his chest, back, and arms in a matter of seconds. His bones felt grounded, forged like iron, yet his entire frame felt incredibly light.

Lancet tested his hand, clenching it into a fist a couple times. Then he met out a long, shuddering sigh of joy.

The relief of shedding his vessel’s initial weakness was intoxicating. After such a chaotic, demanding day, he finally felt like he was actually getting stronger, not just powerful.

Tomorrow, he thought, letting his eyes drift shut. Tomorrow, we push it even further.

××××××

Saturday morning arrived crisp and bright.

Lancet was out of the dorms before the sun had fully crested the Academy towers. The sprawling campus, usually bustling with thousands of students, was tranquil.

Being the weekend, almost every senior student from Class Group-B up to the elite Class Group-S was deployed off-campus. They were out in the world, actively venturing into active Dungeon Gates, killing Demons, and earning real-world profits and prestige.

For Lancet, this meant one beautiful thing: the high-end training facilities were practically deserted.

Usually, the premier facilities were completely monopolized by Class Group-Bs to S, because they were typically the ones with the Profits to spend.

But today, save for a handful of wealthy Class Group-C and D students, the high-end facilities were his for the taking.

He entered the same one as yesterday and approached one of the Simulation Chambers. He swiped his student ID over the console.

The holographic interface booted up, presenting a globe of various environmental topologies. Lancet simply selected one called [ Mountain Land ].

In a matter of seconds, he was transported to a hyper-realistic vista of snow-capped peaks, deep craggy ravines, and a vast, uneven plateau of solid bedrock. The simulated wind howled, cool against his skin.

Lancet walked to the dead center of the rocky plateau. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the newly forged strength of a Level 9 Awakener rippling through his frame.

He took a deep, steadying breath, then outstretched both of his hands into the howling wind.

By his will, Lancet summoned both of his legends.