Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

Corven looked. The Inter-Class Competitions were playing. The arena blazed with noise and color.

Summoner-D had just taken down a group of monkey beasts and defeated a giant gorilla shooting beams out of its eyes.

In the middle of the screen was a young man with fierce blonde hair, blue sharp eyes, and a sword that gleamed too well in his hand for someone who was supposed to be only a Summoner.

”That’s him,” Opaline said with complete certainty.

Corven studied the screen again. ”Who?”

”Lancet Leogardt.”

”The student who saved Hebthej?”

”Mhm hm.” She nodded with a smile. ”Don’t you think he’s really brave?” She looked at the screen too. ”And kind of... handsome?”

Corven folded his hands behind his back, looked at the screen, then looked at her. ”That is an unusually detailed opinion.”

Opaline grabbed a pastry and bit into it without taking her eyes off Lancet. ”He’s amazing.”

The butler watched her and smiled, happy to see that the girl had a crush, just like any ordinary girl.

It became a habit. Whenever Lancet appeared in the broadcasts, Opaline was there. She watched his matches, watched the images of Astensia, Thor, Spectra, and then later the others.

She listened with shining eyes whenever commentators tried to explain his power, and she was involved in countless online discussions about his love life.

At dinner, she talked about him to Corven so often that the butler eventually learned the names of Lancet’s weapon, classmates, and even some skills that he used in battle.

”He’s so brave,” she would say.

”Mm.”

”And funny.”

”If you say so.”

”And clever.”

”Would you not want to meet him before coming to all these conclusions about him, lady Opaline?” Corven would ask.

Opaline lowered her head and frowned. ”I would if I could, Corven.”

The butler frowned too. ”I understand. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

At that, she would throw a cushion at him, and Corven, who could disarm angry buyers with a sentence and navigate noble politics without blinking, would let it hit him because making Opaline laugh felt like one of the few good things he was allowed to do for her.

He pitied her more with every passing day. She stayed bright in a life that had every reason to dull her. She loved parents who measured her usefulness before her freedom. She stayed excited about a world she was never allowed to touch.

Corven found that both admirable and heartbreaking.

In recent months, the family’s demands on her had only grown harsher. The Grand Auction in Rosenblum was approaching, and then another major sale would follow soon after.

Government buyers had become more aggressive. The Kingdom Rangers Board wanted artifacts in strange quantities. Private buyers were panicking and hoarding. Guilds were spending like men who believed war was coming.

Every new request made Vaelric’s eyes gleam a little more.

One afternoon, Opaline had stood in the breakfast room holding a request slip and all the courage she could gather. ”Father, Mother, there’s a live performance at the Crescent Hall this weekend. Just in the city. Corven can take me. I’ll wear a veil. I won’t cause any trouble.”

Vaelric did not even look up from the ledger in his hand. ”No.”

Opaline waited. ”May I ask why?”

Melisande answered first. ”Because you are needed here.”

”For what?”

Vaelric finally lifted his eyes. ”For the family.”

He tapped a list on the table. ”You will help us locate three relic-grade items before the next auction cycle closes. After that, there is another private sale. And not to forget that the KRB has placed inquiries for several powerful magical artifacts, we really cannot afford delay. So no, Opaline, you may not go wandering around the city while all of this is unfolding. You are needed by the family, so you must stay here.”

She had smiled because there was nothing else to do. ”Of course, Father.”

And so today began much the same way. Lessons in the morning. Tracking exercises before noon. A valuation session after lunch. Then another request from her parents to help narrow the path toward several rare items that might sell to government interests for absurd prices.

Opaline sat through it with her hands folded neatly while inside herself she drifted somewhere else entirely, to the thought of open streets and crowded lights and the simple pleasure of choosing where to walk.

Tonight, her parents seemed to be in a good mood. They heard that the Grand Auction had been a success and their accounts were brimming with millions of Notes as a testament.

As they celebrated with wine, the bell at the grand front doors rang.

The sound rolled through the entrance hall. Vaelric looked up first. Melisande set down her glass. Opaline, who had been halfway through asking whether she could at least take dinner on the west balcony, turned toward the hall with open curiosity.

”At this hour?” Melisande murmured.

Vaelric frowned. ”Corven.”

The butler appeared almost at once, as though the house had summoned him by instinct. He crossed the hall, opened the inner panel, checked the exterior sight glass, and then stepped back with a surprised expression that drew attention instantly.

”Well?” Vaelric asked.

Corven approached and bent slightly to whisper into his employer’s ear.

For the first time that day, real surprise cut through Vaelric Asrephath’s composure. Melisande rose so quickly her chair legs scraped. ”Are you certain?”

”Yes, madam,” Corven replied.

Opaline looked between them. ”What is it? Who’s here?”

But her parents were already moving. Vaelric smoothed the front of his coat. Melisande touched her hair, adjusted the jeweled clasp at her throat, and straightened the sleeves of her dress as if royalty had arrived unannounced.

Opaline hurried after them, curiosity beating fast in her chest, while two estate guards moved aside at the vestibule doors.

The front doors opened.

Lancet Leogardt stood on the threshold in formal black, his posture showed complete confidence.

Beside him stood Spectra Hexerra in all the dangerous glory of herself, she was no longer disguised and her white hair fell sharp around her face.

Two of the family guards stood at their sides, visibly terrified of the Demoness but acting as chill as they could.

Melisande’s face brightened like a bulb. Vaelric grinned with joy, his merchant’s instincts overtaking his surprise.

”By the Elders!” the wife said, smiling wide. ”It truly is the Legend Summoner and the great Mother of Demons. To what do we owe the pleasure?”