Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Actually, only Kasto had yelled ”Summon!” Min Tu on the other hand, whispered, ”Arise!”

Nevertheless, the result was the same for both of them. Their Summons appeared to answer their call.

For Kasto, a brilliant cascade of steel-gray light erupted from the ground in front of him. First, random machine parts appeared, but then they started to collide and combine with each other until they formed a gigantic, humanoid war machine.

Metalhead was around nine feet tall, shiny and silver. Rivets the size of fists dotted its shoulders and chest, and its arms—thick as tree trunks—ended in hands that could crush boulders into powder.

But its most distinctive feature was its head. It was excessively bigger than the rest of its body, with the round top, shiny and firm like a canon ball.

It was then surrounded by rotating rings. Every few seconds, the rings would click and rotate, recalibrating, hungry for a target.

Metalhead’s feet—massive, piston-driven constructs—slammed into the mud, sinking deep and anchoring the mechanical behemoth like an immovable fortress. Steam hissed from exhaust ports along its spine.

On the other side, Min Tu’s Skeleton Soldier arose from the shadow pooling at her feet. First, a skeletal hand burst upward, clawing at the air.

The Skeleton Soldier pulled itself from the darkness with an eerie, rattling grace, its bones clicking together like the mechanisms of an ancient clock finally set in motion.

This was no ordinary undead.

Standing nearly seven feet tall despite its hunched, predatory posture, the Skeleton Soldier was draped in the tattered remnants of what must have once been a warlord’s battle garb—faded crimson cloth wrapped around its ribcage, a broken pauldron still strapped to one shoulder, and a cracked leather belt from which dangled the shrunken skulls of past conquests.

But what truly set this Undead apart was the aura radiating from its bones. The air around it shimmered with heat from the dormant Fire Mage’s power.

Faint cyclones of wind curled around its ankles, the powers of a Wind Mage waiting to be unleashed.

And in its grip was a massive, spiked cleaver that looked more like a butcher’s tool than a warrior’s weapon. A Berserker’s weapon.

But strapped across its back was a wicked, sharp spear made of black steel. It was its second weapon, the one that belonged to its fourth Class: Spearman, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

Four Class Skills. One deadly, undead warrior.

The Skeleton Soldier let out a rattling, breathless hiss that might have been laughter, its jaw unhinging slightly as it surveyed the seven Four-Armed Skull Macaques arrayed before them.

Lancet’s eyes swept the battlefield studying the beasts with intense eyes.

The Macaques were lvl 35 beasts, around the same level as beasts found in later stages of a Higher Dungeon. But Kasto’s mecha was now ranked Epic, and Min Tu’s Grand.

Together, they were enough to take down seven of the monkey beasts.

The creatures had fanned out into a loose semicircle, their bone-white faces twitching with barely contained violence. They were testing the perimeter, looking for gaps.

That was expected because as Dane had said, they were pack hunters. They would try to flank, try to isolate the weakest link, try to overwhelm with coordinated strikes.

Not today.

”Kasto,” Lancet said, his voice unnervingly calm despite the rising chaos. ”You’re not Guardian so keep Metalhead at the front and center. I want a wall they can’t climb over. Min Tu, your Soldier fights off the front line. But don’t overextend, let them break themselves against Metalhead first, then push forward and punish them for it.”

He glanced at Dane and Vera. ”You two, hold. This is a frontal assault. No need to reveal our full hand yet.”

Both of them nodded.

”SKREEEEEEEEE!!!” The Macaques shrieked in unison—a horrifying, discordant chorus that shattered the jungle’s ambient noise—and then they attacked.

The first beast launched itself directly at Metalhead, all four arms extended, claws gleaming with slick, black residue that likely explained the hideous stench in the air. It moved unbearably quick, a gray blur of fur and malice.

But like any vanguard, Metalhead stood strong.

The mechanical giant’s launcher roared to life, and with a resounding boom, its entire head assembly shot forward like a cannonball. The attack was so fast it left a vacuum in the air, a sonic crack that made Vera flinch.

The Macaque’s four red eyes widened a split second before impact.

CRUNCH.

Metalhead’s projectile skull slammed directly into the beast’s chest, caving its ribcage inward with a sickening, wet crunch. The Macaque was hurled backward through the air, its body crashing through a thick tree branch and spinning into the mud, its limbs twitching spasmodically as blood poured from its shattered torso.

But the Macaques were pack hunters, and they adapted fast.

While Metalhead’s head was still retracting to its shoulders, two more beasts vaulted over their fallen comrade, using the distraction to close the gap.

One went high, leaping toward Metalhead’s exposed shoulders. The other went low, its four arms reaching for the machine’s piston-driven legs, claws screeching against the iron plating.

”Not so fast!” Kasto yelled, sweat pouring down his face as he commanded his Summon.

Metalhead’s arms swung upward with hydraulic fury. Its left fist caught the leaping Macaque mid-air, crushing its hip with a sound like snapping timber.

The beast howled in agony, but its other three arms latched onto Metalhead’s forearm, claws digging into the joints, trying to tear the plating apart.

But it ended up regretting that. Metalhead extended its arm forward, then it activated the launcher. BOOM!

The arm shot out like a canon, carrying the terrified monkey beast with it and slamming into a thick three.

The Macaque fell to the ground, a giant hole on its face.

As Metalhead’s hand returned, the low Macaque moved on with its attack, and it was more successful.

Its claws found a seam in Metalhead’s knee joint and tore through the hydraulics, spraying steam and dark fluid. Metalhead stumbled, its weight shifting dangerously.

”Min Tu, push now!” Lancet commanded.

Min Tu looked over to her Skeleton then calmly pointed a direct finger at the Macaque gnawing at Metalhead’s leg.

The Skeleton Soldier moved obediently.

Wind erupted around its feet as the Wind Mage’s powers flared to life, propelling the undead warrior forward in a blur of bone and steel. It closed the distance to the low Macaque rapidly, and swung the Berserker’s cleaver.

The Macaque sensed the danger and tried to leap back, but the Skeleton had only feigned that attack. It was already extending its hand and activated its Fire Mage abilities.

A concentrated jet of orange flame blasted directly into the beast’s face, searing its hairless bone-white mask and blinding all four of its eyes.

The Macaque screamed like a mad beast as it staggered backward, clawing at its own burning face. It never saw the cleaver coming.

It tried to lunge at the Skeleton, but the bone warrior quickly withdrew its spear and punched it right through the monkey’s chest.

SKSSSHHH!

The monster fell with a lifeless thud.

Three down. Four remaining.

But the Macaques were learning. The remaining four abandoned the direct assault, scattering into the dense undergrowth rapidly.

Their bodies vanished into the shadows, their glowing red eyes the only signs of their positions, blinking between massive roots and hanging vines.

”They’re regrouping,” Dane warned, his eyes tracking the darting shapes. ”They’re going to try a coordinated pincer.”

Lancet’s jaw tightened. ”Kasto, tell Metalhead to go defensive. Min Tu, pull your Soldier back to the formation. We’ll hold here.”

Metalhead’s skull snapped back into its shoulder cavity with a CLANG, the rings rotating as it recalibrated. The steam from its damaged knee hissed louder, but the machine planted its feet, its massive arms spreading wide to create a protective barrier.

The Skeleton Soldier backflipped—the Wind Mage’s power flaring again to grant it unnatural agility—and landed in a crouch beside Metalhead. It now wielded the cleaver in one hand and the spear in the other. The flames in its eye sockets burned brighter, as if it was enjoying this.

A tense silence fell over the jungle. The only sounds were the dripping of condensation, the distant screeches of unseen beasts, and the labored breathing of the squad.

Lancet looked around silently, scanning for every moment. ”Be... alert,’ he whispered.

The team agreed.

But silence continued for a while. Long, tense silence.

...

...

...

”SKRREEEEE!”

Everyone jerked and turned around. However, they didn’t have to because the Macaques were coming from every direction.

All four remaining Macaques attacked at once.