Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

A second later, Thor flew across the industrial district faster than the eye could follow.

Old factories blurred beneath her. Rusted cranes and black chimneys became streaks at the edges of her vision while lightning carried her over fenced compounds and abandoned rail lines.

She followed the roads away from the dead industrial quarter until warehouses gave way to apartment blocks, crowded streets and small commercial buildings packed beneath gothic arches and glowing signs.

She slowed above the rooftops.

A healer shop should not be difficult to find but going inside one was the problem.

Thor looked down at herself.

Her armor was not subtle. Neither was the hammer. Neither were the silver-white hair, stormlight around her body or the fact that half the modern world recognized Thor Stormchild from old paintings, schoolbooks and Lancet’s increasingly public adventures.

Lancet had been very clear.

No one could know she had been in State X.

The Serpent Society would undoubtedly investigate the failed extraction. They would question witnesses, search roads and follow anything unusual.

If people started saying Thor Stormchild had appeared near the same industrial district on the same day the Terrible Three vanished, Noctis would not need much imagination to connect the dots all the way to Lancet.

Thor narrowed her eyes.

The reason she was chosen at first was because she could use lightning speed to claim the Terribles before they knew what had happened.

Just zap, zap, zap, as Lancet had dramatically described. She could simply arrive, seize the prisoners and no one would see anything but blurs.

That had been the plan.

Then she had seen the Extractors slaughter the Penitentiary guards.

Men dragged through the road by chains. Bodies smashed against metal. People executed because they happened to stand between the Society and three prisoners.

So Thor had changed the plan, deciding that those Extractors deserved death. And now that they were dead, they certainly could not tell anyone what they saw.

However, citizens could. So Thor had to be careful. She had to protect her master.

So, the goal was to look ordinary.

Thor searched the rooftops. She found a clothesline stretched between two balconies below.

Several pieces looked close enough to her size. Thor thought about it for a moment. She’d never work modern clothes before, but the situation called for it.

She dropped.

Lightning flashed once through the alley.

The clothesline snapped upward in the sudden wind, and by the time a young woman stepped onto her balcony to investigate, half the clothing was gone.

Several minutes later, Thor walked into a healer shop.

The little bell above the door chimed.

The older man behind the counter looked up and forgot what he was doing.

Thor had chosen dark fitted trousers, a cream blouse and a short brown jacket from the stolen clothes. They fitted her, yes, but they were still tight enough to be her second skin.

The trousers hugged her long, toned legs and hips more tightly than modern fashion probably intended, while the blouse strained across her breasts enough that the first two buttons had been abandoned entirely.

Her cleavage popped out generously. Pale skin showed through the deep opening, and the jacket did little to hide the shape beneath it.

Her white hair remained loose because none of the stolen ties had survived her first attempt.

The healer stared, sweat falling down his bald head.

Thor walked to the counter.

His eyes dropped once, then immediately returned to her face. ”Y—yes?”

”I require an internal-bleeding potion, a soothing potion and one healing berry for headache and concussion.”

The man blinked. ”A berry?”

Thor’s expression hardened slightly. ”Did you not hear me?”

”No, I heard you.”

”Then prepare them.”

The healer cleared his throat and looked toward the shelves behind him. ”The potions, yes. Internal bleeding and soothing. But the berry...”

Thor waited.

He became more nervous the longer she watched. ”We stopped using healing berries around a hundred years ago.”

Thor frowned.

Berries, as the Valkyrie knew them, were balls that carried healing agents inside, potions and other ingredients mixed to cure particular types of illnesses.

Another thing the present had decided to change while she was dead.

Three hundred years ago, every travelling healer carried berries. Red for fever. Blue for headaches. And various colors for various things. They were easy to recognize and even easier to force down the throat of someone who refused treatment.

Lancet normally handled this part. Without him beside her, navigating the modern world became irritating much faster.

”What do you use now?”

”Tablets. Capsules.”

Thor looked toward a wall of small boxes. ”Those little things?”

”Yes,” the man nervously replied. ”They help with headaches, inflammation and symptoms. For a serious concussion, the patient should still be examined.”

Thor folded her arms. The healer’s eyes briefly lost their battle with gravity.

Thor noticed.

He quickly looked at the ceiling.

”Give me whatever is closest to what I asked for,” she said. ”For the headache and concussion.”

”Yes. Of course.”

The man moved very quickly after that.

He took an internal-bleeding potion from a locked cabinet, added a pale-green soothing potion and then collected two packets of tablets from a shelf. He placed everything inside a small paper bag and pushed it across the counter.

Thor opened it and checked each item as though she understood the labels.

She did not.

The healer pointed helpfully.

”That one is taken with food. The other is every eight hours, but if the patient is confused, vomiting repeatedly or losing consciousness, please take them to a proper healing center.”

Thor nodded once. ”Good.” She picked up the bag. ”Thank you.”

Then she turned and walked toward the door.

The healer’s hand rose to say something but suddenly paused. Nothing left his mouth.

How could he dare demand money from such an ethereal heavenly fierce beauty?!

In the end, he just watched the stunning woman walk out of his store. His raised hand slowly changed into a wave.

”Please come again.”

The bell chimed as Thor stepped outside.