Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

On the central screen above the table, King Romsgard Goldstone’s expression was a portrait of internal conflict.

His summer-sky eyes moved from Lancet to Astensia, from Astensia to Thor, from Thor to Spectra. His golden brow was furrowed, his jaw tight. He was a king who had built his reign on the stories of these women, on their sacrifices, their heroism, their legends.

And now they stood before him, not as myths but as witnesses, telling him that everything he had believed about the truce was wrong.

That the enemy had been laughing at them all along.

Obel recorded what Lancet had said then leaned forward, no longer bored or disinterested. He looked at the Heroines with more intensity this time.

”Is this your testimony too?” he asked, his voice grave.

Astensia stepped forward. She spoke with that knightly uplifting and convincing tone of hers, the one she used to rally warriors against Demon armies.

”What my Master says is the truth,” she declared. ”The Demon Break was never stopped. It was active the entire time.”

She allowed those words to settle before continuing. ”We saw it with our own eyes. The Demons had found a way to maintain the spread of corruption while keeping it hidden from your scanners. They were building a shrine that, when activated, would have drawn so much Gloom that the entire town would have been consumed in mere minutes. Not days. Not hours. Minutes. Whenever they wanted.”

She lifted her chin, and the golden light of the dome seemed to gather around her, as if the Hall itself recognized her authority.

”This was not a dormant half-citadel. This was a staging ground for a great ambush. And we stopped it.”

Thor stepped forward next, her voice ringing with conviction. ”We are your saviors not criminals. Deathrock was crawling with Demons. The corruption was being deliberately sustained and directed.” Her eyes flashed. ”If we had not gone in, Deathrock would have been used as a giant portal to transport the most dangerous Demons right into our world.”

Kestrel and Espel gave their testimonies as well.

Spectra said nothing. She only gave an elegant shrug that seemed to say, You already know what I think.

The chamber absorbed their testimony like dry earth absorbing rain. The Council Members sat motionless, their expressions ranging from shock to dismay to dawning horror.

The Sovereigns on their floating screens were equally affected. King Odesto’s white eyes had narrowed. Avanke’s amethyst gaze was distant, calculating. Ronald’s weathered face had lost its casual amusement. Liu Xiu’s fingers were pressed together so tightly that her knuckles had paled.

Romsgard looked like a man who had just been told his house was built on a sinkhole.

Unsurprisingly, Verdrak was the one to speak.

”I cannot believe it.” He started with a low voice first, trembling with barely contained fury. Then he got louder. ”This boy has all of you in some kind of hypnosis! Mind control!” He jabbed a finger toward Lancet, his pointed white beard quivering. ”He’s a Summoner! He must have bound them to lie for him! That’s the only explanation for this... this... this absurdity!”

Lancet looked at him with a mocking eyebrow raise.

”Do you have any proof of that?” he asked quietly. ”Or are you the only one who gets to make outlandish claims without proof?”

Verdrak’s mouth opened, but remembering the warning from earlier, it closed. His face reddened further. The other Council Members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Obel gave Verdrak a warning look, but said nothing.

After a beat of silence, Queen Liu Xiu spoke.

”I truly thank and honor the legends for their presence today.” She inclined her head toward Astensia, Thor, Kestrel, and the others. ”Their deeds are written in the annals of every kingdom. Their names are spoken with reverence. And I do not doubt that what they have seen is what they believe to be true.”

Her dark eyes, sharp and intelligent, moved to Lancet. ”But this matter is a delicate one. We cannot approach the Demon Lords and wage war based upon words, even words coming from very outstanding, reliable sources. The consequences would be catastrophic if we are wrong. Or if we are right but cannot prove it.”

From his screen, King Ronald of Falcon Standing let out a booming laugh. ”I say wage war! I love war!” He slapped the arm of his throne, causing the falcon on his shoulder to ruffle its feathers in protest.

He puffed his shoulders, lips pointed out as he pet the falcon beside him. ”It’s finally time to kill those Demons! Migrating into our world, pfft! Do they have no respect for borders?”

Romsgard shook his head as he smiled at his friend. ”As usual, your enthusiasm is inspiring, King Ron.” He had a soft tone for the King of FAS, especially after being used to his impulsiveness for many years. ”But Queen Liu Xiu is right. This is a serious situation, and we must be careful in our approach.”

He turned his gaze to Lancet and the Heroines, and the smile faded. ”This is not me doubting your testimony. You have my gratitude, and the gratitude of Aethelgard, for what you have done. The Heroines who stand beside you are beyond reproach.”

He paused, his eyes holding Lancet’s. ”But we would need strong evidence, not just to fully convince this Council, but to make sure the Demon Lords have no way of denial. Because in the end, without proof, it is still words against words. And the Second World will use that ambiguity to evade accountability, as they always have.”

Lancet nodded slowly. ”Yes,” he said. ”We do have proof.”

The chamber stiffened.

”Before I show you,” Lancet continued, raising a hand in caution, ”I need you all to not overreact. No danger is coming to you. What you are about to see is very real, but very dead.”

Eyes narrowed around the room. Obel’s hand moved subtly toward the edge of his tome. The Council Members exchanged glances, this time openly, their mental conduits forgotten.

Behind them, against the curved walls, Malakai stepped forward from the line of his fellow Awakeners, his eyes fixed on Lancet with vigilance.

His hand drifted closer to the hilt of his weapon, ready to retaliate in case anything happened.

Lancet turned to Spectra and nodded. ”Spectra. Bring ’em out.”

Spectra’s smile sharpened. ”My pleasure.”

She extended her hand toward the floor in front of them, her palm facing downward, her fingers spread.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a blast of crimson smoke erupted from the marble.

It was thick, swirling, dense with the unmistakable scent of demonic energy. It coiled and billowed, filling the space between the group and the Grace Wall with a roiling red haze.

The Council Members recoiled. Several of them pushed their chairs back. One let out a sharp cry. Malakai lunged forward, his weapon half-drawn, his eyes blazing.

The smoke cleared.

Three massive Demon bodies lay on the polished marble floor.

Malakai froze mid-step, his weapon trembling in his grip.

”Huh?!”

The Council Hall erupted.

Gasps tore through the air. Chairs scraped violently against the floor. One Council Member let out a strangled sound of horror. Another clutched the ironwood table as if it were the only solid thing in a suddenly unstable world.

Verdrak’s face went from red to ashen in the span of a heartbeat. Obel’s deep-set eyes were wide, his wizardly composure shattered, his hand frozen above the pages of his tome.

Above the table, on the floating screens, the Sovereigns, King Romsgard included, stared at the three Demon corpses with dread and shock.

What the hell was going on?!