Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

In one of the other three routes taken by the rest of the Class Groups, Elementalist-D stood among the wreckage of the beasts they had just put down, breathing hard but victorious.

Several of the monkey beasts had been reduced to scorched, cracked bodies where fire and lightning had hit them. Others lay frozen where they had tried to leap and missed, their claws still dug into the dirt as if they had died mid-rush.

Kallan Kallahan straightened slowly, cracking his knuckles as lightning sizzled around them. He looked annoyed more than tired, which was usually his default expression whenever a fight ended without enough satisfaction.

Cecil stood beside him with a sharp grin, still looking like he had barely worked up a sweat.

Leslie, an Ice Mage, wiped blood from one arm while Lingram, Verdant Mage, kicked a dead Macaque aside with a grimace.

Standing apart from the others was Frieda Castleloft. She looked a little despondent for someone who has just defeated a pack of beasts with her team.

Above them, a projected leaderboard shimmered into clearer view, hanging in the air like a giant, transparent, sign board.

Kallan looked up and clicked his tongue. ”Still behind,” he muttered.

The board glowed with the current standings:

[ 1. Specialist-D : 470 ]

[ 2. Summoner-D : 440 ]

[ 3. Elementalist-D : 425 ]

[ 4. Enchanter-D : 420 ]

Kallan’s mouth tightened. ”Specialists always do well in dungeon runs. It’s really annoying”

Cecil followed his gaze and frowned. ”But look. Summoners are keeping pace too.”

”And Enchanter-D?” one of the others asked.

Kallan snorted. ”Well, they’re really close to us which is even more annoying. We can’t have the same amount of points as a Support Class Group.”

The numbers irritated him more than he wanted to admit. Elementalist-D was supposed to be the Class Group with the flashiest combat output, the most aggressive clearing speed, the most obvious battlefield superiority.

Yet the rankings did not care about pride. They only cared about results.

Frieda glanced at the board as well, then back at Kallan. ”We should keep moving.”

Kallan’s eyes shifted to her immediately. ”No,” he said.

Frieda blinked. ”What?”

He looked at the others in the group, then back at her with the sort of sharp confidence that usually meant he had already decided what to do and only wanted the room to catch up.

”We start the plan,” Kallan said.

The mood changed at once.

Cecil’s grin widened a fraction. ”Finally.”

Leslie smiled maliciously. ”About time.”

Frieda’s face tightened. ”You mean the sabotage plan?”

Kallan narrowed his eyes. ”What other plan would I be talking about? Stop joking around, Frieda.”

Frieda’s brows drew together. ”Maybe we should just focus on our own route. We’re not doing badly. If we keep clearing efficiently—”

”Phiodor told us what to do,” Kallan interrupted. His tone made the argument sound less like a discussion and more like a waste of time. ”It was our strategy from the beginning. So unless you want to disobey our Instructor”

Frieda looked uneasy. ”He said to pressure Lancet, not—”

”He said to make Lancet’s life difficult,” Cecil cut in, a cruel little grin tugging at his mouth. ”And what better way than to make Summoner-D’s little hero choke on the competition?”

Leslie folded her arms. ”We know about his Grace issue.”

That made Frieda look toward him sharply. She had not said anything, but the discomfort on her face spoke for her. Even she had heard the rumors, though they had never been officially confirmed in public.

Lancet’s strange instability had stayed quiet enough that only people with the right ears, or the right motives, would have learned of it. Even in this academy that thrived on rumors.

Kallan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ”We’re going to use it to our advantage.”

Frieda looked between them. ”That’s not—”

”It is,” Kallan said. ”If his Grace keeps cutting out, then all we need is to put him in a situation where it fails at the worst possible time.”

He turned his hand slightly, lightning flickering over his fingers like a pet habit. ”So we’re going to scatter his team. Then we’ll force threats from all directions. If we keep him busy long enough, eventually his power will crack at the wrong moment.”

Leslie nodded once, the idea clearly appealing to her. ”Then we hit them hard when they’re off balance.”

”Loot too,” Cecil added, his eyes glinting. ”A little extra Tribute never hurts.”

Kallan smirked. ”Exactly.”

Frieda’s expression darkened, but she did not speak again right away.

The others were already moving, and that was the real problem. Once Kallan had made up his mind, the room had a way of becoming his. The strategy had weight because it had been framed as Phiodor’s will, and that made resistance harder than it should have been.

Kallan gestured forward. ”Since we’re closer to them, first, we stop Specialist-D.”

Frieda’s eyes widened with fear. Specialist-D was Renan’s team and she didn’t want to do anything to sabotage him.

But somehow, the team she was supposed to lead had spiralled out of her control and were now only taking directions from Kallan. She felt like she had no say, suddenly, and was forcefully taken by the tide of Kallan’s thunder.

The group moved through the jungle route with more purpose now, their footsteps quicker and their eyes sharper.

The air grew denser again as they advanced, the canopy filtering the light into streaks of gold and green. Vines swayed overhead. Moss-covered stone jutted from the ground in broken slabs. Somewhere deeper in the jungle, a beast screamed, and the sound echoed eerily through the branches.

They found Specialist-D not long after.

Through the thick leaves, they saw Renan Falconhart first. The Heavenly Knight was standing gloriously as usual at the center of a recently cleared route with his team around him.

The group had just finished off a band of Spider Monkeys, and the remains of the fight were still visible all around them. The ground was littered with broken webs, snapped branches, and thick black strands of silk that had once bridged the trees like traps.

Renan himself looked composed despite the battle. Beside him stood a Dragoon named Lioris, broad and armored, his spear planted in the dirt. A Martial Master named Ena stood a little farther back, her stance relaxed but alert, as if she had already decided she would rather let others waste energy before she did.

There was also an Archer with a clean, sharp profile and a quiet Assassin whose presence was easy to miss until you realized he had been standing somewhere different every time you looked.

Kallan turned to his team, grinning wickedly. He gave them the wait signal, then with four fingers, he pointed forward, starting the ambush.

Frieda looked uncertain throughout all of it.

Meanwhile, on the other side, in Renan’s team:

”These Spider Monkeys really gave us a challenge, huh?” Ena said, fixing the bandages on her forearms.

”They were quite agile,” Renan remarked, glancing down at one which was twitching in pain before finally giving up. ”They should be proud of their attempt.”

”Come on,” Lioris moved forward. ”Let’s loot them and move on.”

In agreement, the team moved to start collecting what they could from the fallen monsters. But the air suddenly changed.

Renan’s eyes lifted first. ”What—”

Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet flashed.

Ice exploded outward from the roots and dirt, spreading in a sudden frost that raced fast enough to catch the entire Specialist formation by surprise.

The temperature dropped violently. White crystals raced over the jungle floor, climbing boots, freezing ankles, hardening around weapon shafts, and locking the team in place before they could fully react.

Lioris jerked at once, trying to break free. ”What the hell?!”

Ena’s eyes widened. ”Ice?”

The Archer tried to pull his foot free but the frozen ground had already wrapped around the boot like a restraint. The Assassin moved first, twisting sharply to slip away, but even he was caught in the edge of the frost and forced to halt.

Renan’s expression darkened instantly. He looked toward the trees.

Then the Elementalists came out laughing.

Kallan stepped through the bushes first with a grin that made the whole thing obvious before he even spoke. Behind him, Cecil was already smirking, and Leslie, whose hands were glistening with ice, looked like she was enjoying the moment almost as much as Kallan.

Frieda came out a little more slowly, her face tense and unhappy, while the others in the group immediately started moving toward the fallen loot.

Kallan spread his arms slightly and laughed. ”Well, well,” he said. ”Looks like Specialist-D got a little too comfortable.”