Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Chapter 200: Who Says I’m Calling Her? [Bonus Chapter]

Renan didn’t even slow down. He was flanked by his Specialist squad: Jace who was an Assassin, Sienna, Baroq Chairhead the Barbarian, and Morras the Vanguard Knight.

As Luke leapt into the air, aiming a devastating overhead strike, Renan didn’t even draw his sword. He simply commanded his teammates. ”Morras. Clear the path.”

Morras stepped forward, slamming his towering shield upward. The impact caught Luke in the chest, completely nullifying his momentum. As Luke stumbled backward, Renan smoothly side-stepped, hooked his boot behind Luke’s ankle, and shoved him directly into a glowing, purple paralysis trap on the floor.

Luke froze instantly, his muscles locking up as the trap triggered. Renan didn’t even look back at him. ”You’re in my way,” the Heavenly Knight said coldly, as the safety matrix flashed and pulled the paralyzed Luke out of the arena.

”And that is the end of the Arsenal’s revenge tour!” the announcer yelled. ”The maze is absolute carnage, folks! Traps are springing, spells are backfiring, but look! Someone has reached the central plaza!”

Lancet stepped out of the labyrinth shadows, his remaining team right behind him. Min Tu’s skeletal fodder had successfully triggered every hidden blade and poison dart in their path, leaving the Summoners entirely unscathed.

Lancet’s eyes locked onto the blue Core hovering over the altar. He took a step toward it, but an arc of silver bladed energy came right at him.

Lancet dodged it with a drag of his shoulders. He stopped moving and looked in the direction of the Specialists.

Renan burst into the plaza, his silver hair flying, his blade drawn. His Specialists fanned out behind him, immediately engaging Min Tu, Kylen, and Rina to keep them away from their leader.

Renan blitzed straight for Lancet, his white aura flaring with determination. ”Not today, Lancet! I won’t let you dictate the pace this time!”

Lancet stopped walking. A cool, entirely relaxed smile spread across his face. He didn’t draw the Radiant Guillotine or take a defensive stance. As he knew already, entering a 1v1 against Renan definitely meant defeat.

So he extended his right hand. ”I don’t plan on dictating anything,” Lancet said softly. ”But I’m not going to fight you either.”

Renan spun the Black Gale, looking prepared. ”Alright then. Call the legendary Knight, I’m prepared this time.”

Lancet’s brows raised. ”Astensia? Who says I’m calling her?”

Renan froze. ”Huh?”

”Summon,” Lancet whispered the order.

The air in the plaza suddenly dropped by twenty degrees. A fog of crimson smoke erupted on the stone floor directly between Lancet and Renan. The smell of death and demons flooded the arena, so thick and pungent it made Renan choke and backpedal.

The stadium above them went completely, terrifyingly silent. The cheers died in the throats of hundreds of thousands of spectators as the crimson smoke parted.

Spectra Hexerra stepped out.

Her platinum hair flowed like liquid moonlight against her dark, demonic attire. Her crimson eyes locked onto Renan giving him a wicked, thoroughly amused smile. The malignant aura radiating from her core was so heavy it visibly distorted the air.

”Her?” Renan stared in shock.

Up in the stands, students shrank back into their seats. ”Is that...?” ”No way. He brought her out again.” ”The Villainess...”

Renan tightened his grip on his sword, his jaw setting. He was the Heavenly Knight. There was no reason to be afraid of a villain.

He stepped forward, raising his blade. Lancet’s silver, heavenly aura tried to fight against her crimson, demonic one.

His aura wasn’t fully victorious.

”I’m not afraid of you, Villainess,” Renan declared loudly. ”All you did in the past, I will cast judgement again on you.”

Spectra tilted her head, her smile instantly disappearing. ”You bore me,” she purred.

Spectra suddenly threw her arm forward. The stone floor beneath Renan instantly turned into a bubbling, black-and-red muck. Miasma!

With agonizing screeches, a swarm of high-tier, multi-limbed demons clawed their way out of the sludge, their eyes glowing with rabid hunger as they rushed the Heavenly Knight.

”Holy shit! It’s Demons!” someone yelled in the crowd.

”Demons in the Academy premises!”

Danistasia stood up from her seat, eyes flashing with disbelief and anger.

”Sword Rage!” Renan yelled, his blade igniting with brilliant silver light. He moved with incredible martial prowess, spinning, slicing, and cleaving through the demonic swarm. He pushed his limits, severing limbs and shattering the beasts with high-tier skills, burning massive amounts of his Grace to clear the field.

Panting, covered in ash, Renan burst through the swarm and lunged directly at Spectra.

Spectra simply reached her hand back into the dissipating red smoke and pulled out her weapon.

The Hellstaff.

It was an SS-tier lance, holding power that surpassed anything in the Academy’s Equipment Stores. As Renan’s blade came crashing down with everything he had, Spectra lazily raised the Hellstaff with only one hand.

CLANG!

A catastrophic impact followed. A shockwave of red and silver energy exploded across the plaza, blowing the surrounding combatants — who were facing off against the rest of the Demons — off their feet.

But while Renan was grinding his teeth, his arms shaking violently under the strain, Spectra was entirely loose.

She was smiling.

Renan attacked again. A flurry of desperate, blinding strikes. Spectra parried every single one with minimal, elegant movements. Each time Renan’s sword met the Hellstaff, his blade reverberated so violently his bones rattled, and dark red energy splashed around them like liquid fire, eating away at his Heavenly Knight armor.

Renan was exerting incredible amounts of energy. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide with the realization that he was fighting something fundamentally beyond his current mortal limits. Spectra practically danced around him, treating his ultimate techniques like a casual morning stretch.

”Is this the best the present era has to offer?” Spectra mocked, her melodic voice easily cutting over the sound of clashing steel. ”How utterly disappointing.”

With a sudden, blinding shift in speed, Spectra finally went on the offensive. She spun the Hellstaff, the heavy, bladed tip catching Renan’s sword and cleanly knocking it wide. Before he could recover his guard, she brought the butt of the lance around in a devastating, sweeping arc that slammed directly into his chest.

The kinetic force shattered Renan’s active barriers into dust. He was launched backward like a cannonball, skipping across the stone plaza before the safety matrix violently flashed, extracting the heavily damaged Heavenly Knight before his spine could shatter against the ruins.

With Renan gone, the remaining Specialists and Enchanters froze, staring at the Demoness in horror.

Spectra rested the Hellstaff against her shoulder, turning her crimson eyes toward them with a predatory smile. They all instinctively took a step back.

Behind her, Lancet calmly walked up the steps of the central altar. Nobody moved to stop him. Nobody dared to cross Spectra’s line of sight.

He placed his bare hand against the glowing blue crystal.

The master horn blared, echoing endlessly across the academy grounds.

”THE CORE IS SECURED!” the announcer yelled. ”SUMMONER-D TAKES THE VICTORY!”

The reaction from the crowd was not very straightforward. Half of the stadium erupted into wild cheers: Lancet Leogardt had just secured back-to-back, overwhelming victories, cementing himself as one of the favorites in the competition.

The other half of the stadium, however, murmured in fear, some were even nervously booing. Lancet had won, but he had won with the help of a Villainess.

It felt wrong.

High above the stadium, on the golden table, Headmistress Danistasia watched with more evident frustration on her face this time. Ordenance was beside her, glancing between the Headmistress and the Architect.

They watched Lancet recall the Demoness, the red smoke fading away as if it were nothing more than a parlor trick.

As Danistasia watched him smile at his team below, a cold realization settled into her bones: Lancet was becoming something huge.

Something they might not be able to control.