Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

CRAAASH!!!

The clock tower’s iron door exploded outward.

Thor crashed through it like a cannonball, her body ragdolling through the air with an unstoppable. She hit the far wall, shattered through it, and kept going. Brick and mortar exploded around her as she plowed through a second wall, then a third, then a fourth.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of breaking and being broken, she rolled to a stop somewhere in one of the halls. Her warhammer struck the ground, sizzling with the last remnants of her lightning.

Thor groaned, blood dripping down her lips.

Her body was a ruin.

Her left arm hung at an unnatural angle, it was likely her shoulder had dislocated from the impact. Her ribs screamed with every breath—three, maybe four of them were cracked.

A gash above her right eye poured blood down her face, mixing with the sweat and grime. Her armor, once gleaming silver and blue, was now dented, scorched, and cracked in a dozen places.

She pushed herself up on her good arm and looked back at the hole she’d made.

The Demon Head stepped through the wreckage.

It was a nightmarish creature as expected. Though not as hideous as the Demon Commander, it was terrifying.

The monster stood over twelve feet tall with a skin the color of oxblood, textured like coarse stone and glowing with veins pumping Gloom through its body.

And what a horrifying body it was. Broad shoulders, a chest like a barrel, arms as thick as tree trunks. Muscles rippled beneath its hide, every fiber visible, every tendon standing out like steel cables.

Thick, bent horns curled from the sides of its head, framing an intelligent face that portrayed emotions of disdain and pure evil.

But the most terrifying aspect of the Demon Head was its back. Four massive, writhing appendages erupted from its spine; they were like muscular tentacles moving fluidly like the arms of an octopus. They ended in sharp pincers sure to pierce through bones as they snapped at the miasma-choked air.

One of the Demon Head’s massive, armored hands was raised high. Pinioned helplessly in its grip by her throat was Valeria Bloodgood.

The Grand Dragoon dangled in the air, her boots kicking weakly, her hands clawing at the demon’s fingers.

Her face had turned purple. Her eyes bulged. Starsplitter lay on the ground twenty feet away, too far to reach. Her armor was cracked, her orange hair matted with blood—some of it hers, most of it not.

”Worthless humans,” the Demon Head rumbled.. ”You dare attack a citadel of the Second World. You will perish, and your bones will pave the streets of my new kingdom.”

Thor tried to get to her feet, but fell back again to her hands and knees.

The battle had proved difficult from the start.

Thor had thrown everything she had at the Demon Head. Even her kinetic rebounds from energy she had absorbed from its blows, yet the creature was still standing.

Now, Thor was almost empty.

Her trembling fingers reached out, closing around the hilt of the Hammer of Force.

Valeria, her face turning pale from the lack of oxygen, looked down at the battered Valkyrie. The Grand Dragoon had accepted her fate.

”Thor...” Valeria choked out. ”Don’t... worry about me. Just... do everything to kill it.”

The Demon Head slowly turned its horned visage to look at the struggling girl in its grasp. Its red eyes burned with ancient malice. ”I can snap your head with a single twitch of my muscle. Your sacrifice means nothing.”

”Stop!” Thor yelled, using her warhammer to painfully—finally—leverage herself to her feet. ”Drop her and let us fight to the death!”

”You two are already dead,” the Demon Head stated flatly.

Thor glared at the monster, panting heavily. It felt true. She was completely weak. The miasma had choked the lightning from her veins. Even if she unleashed the last dregs of her built-up kinetic energy right now, she wasn’t sure it would kill it.

There was almost no hope.

Ding!

[ Congratulations, you have leveled up! Lvl 201 → Lvl 202 ]

[ Congratulations, you have leveled up! Lvl 202 → Lvl 203 ]

[ Double Level Up Achieved! Attribute Restoration Activated! ]

[ Your stats have been refilled to maximum capacity! ]

Thor’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her body was instantly rejuvenated, her exhaustion vanished, her torn muscles knitted together. The kinetic energy she had stored settled as Grace in her reserves, fueling her repaired channels.

’But I didn’t...’

Thor narrowed her eyes, aggressively discarding the confusion. She didn’t know why it happened, but she didn’t care. She had all she needed to fight back again.

”You still persist?” the Demon Head scoffed, its tentacles writhing menacingly behind it. ”Perhaps crushing your cohort’s throat in front of you will finally extinguish the last of your hope.”

Thor’s aura detonated. White-hot lightning violently erupted around her, instantly vaporizing the debris at her feet.

”Put her down and DIE, YOU ATROCITY!”

Thor suddenly became a literal bolt of lightning. She shot across the room so fast the air cracked with a sonic boom, bolting through the space and slamming her warhammer square into the center of the Demon Head’s chest.

The kinetic transfer was so monumental that the Demon Head’s grip instantly failed. Valeria fell to the ground, coughing violently, as Thor and the Demon Head blasted backward, shattering through another set of walls.

A mile away, standing in the eastern outskirts of Hebthej, Lancet paused.

He looked up at the horizon just in time to see a massive plume of dust and debris erupt from the very top of the central clock tower.

”I hope the level up helped,” he muttered to himself.

There were no notifications that Thor had been killed or fatally wounded so that was the good news.

The troubling news was that Thor was back at maximum power, which meant she was going to kill the Demon Head very, very soon. And the moment that happened, the second Demon Head would awaken from its slumber.

Lancet turned. Around him, multiple dead Demons were sprawled across the cobblestones in various states of dismemberment, beheaded, stabbed, slashed. And the sword in his hand was dripping with purple blood.

[ Soul Count : 57 ]

Lancet sighed, gazing at the path ahead of him. ”I have to reach the cemetery fast.”

Throughout the planning of this raid and during the raid itself, Lancet had stayed in the background. But he’d also been making his own place since the moment they arrived outside Hebthej’s walls.

Back in the command tent, as others planned, Lancet meticulously studied the holographic map. He spotted the old town cemetery where he knew the second Demon Head would be hiding, based on the novel, and he memorized the route to it from the Chapel.

Lancet knew there was no changing Thor’s mind about joining him, so he had to do this on his own.

He had used the death of the Demon Commander as his starting gun. When he felt that massive shockwave of Gloom and miasma wash over the town—just like the novel had described—he knew the Commander was dead.

Knowing the Demon Head was next, he slipped away from the civilians in the catacombs and secretly made a run for it.

But he made sure to level up Astensia, not only because she needed it, but because he needed it too.

He had mapped out exactly how much time he had before Thor finished her fight, and exactly how many Demon Souls he could harvest on the way to the cemetery.

”Die!!!” Lancet yelled, surging forward and slashing his sword through the chest of a wandering Bug Demon that blocked his path.

He turned the corner and immediately skidded to a halt. A small horde of twenty Humanoid Demons was blocking the main thoroughfare.

Lancet didn’t have time for a prolonged duel. He gripped his golden sword with both hands, channeling a massive surge of Grace into the blade.

”Dissecting Cross!”

Lancet remembered Astensia using the Skill earlier so he mimicked her movement. He swung horizontally, releasing a crescent of golden light that bisected the front row.

Another slash followed forming the blazing X, killing the next row. The golden cross rotated forty-five degrees, killing another row, and launched forward like a buzzsaw, tearing through the screaming horde and painting the street in purple gore.

Watching the copied Skill slaughter the Demons, Lancet still didn’t stop running. As his legs carried him farther, he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out two cylinders of magical supplements. He uncorked them with his thumb, and downed the bitter liquid without breaking his stride.

Finally, the iron-wrought, rusted gates of the Hebthej Cemetery loomed through the crimson fog.

Lancet burst through the gates and immediately fell to his knees on the dead grass, his lungs burning. He planted his hands on the dirt and quickly began to Separate.

Using the Sieve method, he expelled the suffocating Gloom from his body, keeping only the pure Grace to refuel his channels.

[ Grace : 1920/2500 ]

As soon as he was done, Lancet opened up his main stat interface. He quickly began to allocate the massive reserves of EXP he had gained from Thor’s, Astensia’s, and his own battles.

[ You have leveled up 11 -> 12 ]

[ You have leveled up 12 -> 13 ]

[ You have leveled up 13 -> 14 ]

[ You have leveled up 14 -> 15 ]

[ You have leveled up 15 -> 16 ]

[ Multi Level Up Achieved! Attribute Restoration Activated! ]

[ Your stats have been refilled to maximum capacity! ]

A terrifying amount of power rushed into Lancet’s body. His muscles hardened, his perception sharpened to a razor’s edge, and his Grace pool expanded massively. The golden armor he wore suddenly felt as light as a cotton shirt.

Lancet slowly stood up. He took a deep, steadying breath and gripped the glowing sword tighter.

[ Soul Count : 82 ]

He looked out to the center of the graveyard, wondering if the monster could feel him waiting for it. Lancet kinda wished it could.

”Your play, Demon Head,” Lancet said.