Chapter 45: Chapter 45: The Stage Is Set

The drama was about to begin.

Five summons stood before me. Three enemies. One ally. And mine.

I opened my mental inventory and activated it.

Appraisal Sight.

My ace up the sleeve. Though the cooldown was frustrating as hell, once per week was far too limiting.

I had been testing this ability multiple times over the past month. Just for fun. Just to see what it could do.

But today, it had a glorious purpose.

It would tell me exactly how much I needed to act. And how serious I actually needed to be.

The skill activated.

Ten seconds. That’s all I had to absorb whatever information flowed before my eyes.

First, the shorty.

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TARGET IDENTIFIED

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Name: Lisa Esmond

QUOR Level: 100 / 1800

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Her QUOR had dropped drastically low. Meaning she couldn’t summon another summon even if she had one in reserve.

And what a summon it was.

Standing before her was a massive, muscular giant. His naked torso was covered in old scars each one telling a story of brutal combat.

Around his neck hung an iron slave collar. A gladiator. A pit fighter who had clawed his way through blood and death.

I scanned him.

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SUMMON ANALYSIS

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The Pit Gladiator — Rank D

Weapon: A dull, notched broadsword

Signature Skill: [Berserk Swing]

► Ignores all pain to deliver a

massive, reckless strike

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Dangerous. But predictable.

Without wasting precious seconds, I shifted my gaze to the other opponent.

The leggy seductress.

She had two summons flanking her.

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TARGET IDENTIFIED

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Name: Elena Beric

QUOR Level: 03 / 2100

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Only three points remaining. She had summoned everything she had. Two spirits had drained her completely.

I examined her summons.

The first was a tribal shaman. Glowing blue tattoos covered his chest in intricate patterns. Wolf pelts draped across his shoulders. He radiated primal energy.

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SUMMON ANALYSIS

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The Storm Caller — Rank D

Weapon: Totem staff topped with

a beast skull

Signature Skill: [Devourer]

► Conjures a magical storm that

devours any incoming attack

► Single use per battle

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A defensive specialist with one devastating trump card.

To his left stood the second summon.

An exotic woman. Clearly a dancer by trade. She was draped in sheer, translucent silks that left little to imagination.

Heavy gold jewelry adorned her neck, wrists, and ankles. Every movement she made was graceful. Hypnotic.

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SUMMON ANALYSIS

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The Mirror Dancer — Rank E

Weapon: Two folding fans with

razor-sharp edges

Skill: [Illusion Clone]

► Creates a fake, alluring copy

to distract and mislead enemies

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A support unit.

It was a solid lineup. Well-balanced. Thought out.

I still had seconds remaining.

My gaze shifted to Thalia.

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TARGET IDENTIFIED

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Name: Thalia di Zylindra/Thalia Shea Tarmias

QUOR Level: 2800 / 3500

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’The fuck?’

Her QUOR was absurdly high. Far beyond what I expected from someone her age.

Yet she had only pulled out one summon. And looking at the energy signature, it had only cost around 700 points.

That didn’t match her potential at all. Why hold back so much? Or did she had only one summon.

I scanned the elf fairy beside her.

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SUMMON ANALYSIS

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Leena — Rank D

Weapon: Construct Bow

► Uses pure aura to manifest bow

and arrows from nothing

► Arrows create small explosions

on contact with summons or

their aura field

Signature Skill: [Sacrifice]

► Leena condenses herself into a

final arrow beam

► Creates massive explosion

► Guarantees elimination of any

summon up to +1 rank higher

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A glass cannon with a suicide move.

Interesting choice.

Before I could process further—

BWOOOOOOONG!

The horrible blast of horns echoed across the arena.

The match had begun. My eyes were still on Thalia when she moved first.

“Leena! Barrage of arrows!”

Her summon nodded.

Green energy began glowing from both of Leena’s hands. Swirling. Condensing. A bow materialized in her grip but it didn’t look solid. It was pure energy given form. Screaming with power.

She pulled back the string.

There was no arrow.

But as she released, the air itself seemed to compress. And from nothing from empty space, an arrow of green aura shot forward.

FWIP!

It was aimed directly at the Gladiator.

CLANG!

He blocked it perfectly with his broadsword. The impact sent sparks flying.

But it wasn’t over.

FWIP! FWIP! FWIP! FWIP!

More arrows. A relentless barrage. Each one screaming through the air.

The Gladiator moved with surprising speed for his size. Blocking. Deflecting. Parrying.

But he couldn’t catch them all.

Some grazed his cloth.

Some touched the fingers gripping his handle.

BOOM! BOOM!

Each contact triggered a small explosion. Not enough to wound him severely, but enough to stumble him. Throw off his balance.

Seeing her summon in trouble, Elena shouted commands.

“Misti! Help him take down that elf archer!”

The dancer’s eyes gleamed.

“Shaman! Create Void Gale! Defeat that swordsman!”

The shaman began channeling immediately. Blue energy swirling around his totem staff.

Meanwhile, the Mirror Dancer dashed toward Leena.

But Thalia’s archer didn’t stop her barrage. She simply redirected.

FWIP! FWIP! FWIP!

Arrows now flew toward the approaching dancer.

The exotic woman didn’t falter. She created clones as she ran.

One clone. Two. Three.

Each one disappearing in a burst of light as arrows tore through them.

She blocked what she could with her razor fans.

CLANG! PING! CLANG!

But too many shots found their mark.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions rippled across her body. She stumbled. Fell to the ground.

But she was smiling.

Because she had done her job.

She had stalled long enough.

The Gladiator was now inches from Leena. His massive form casting a shadow over the elven archer.

He launched his broadsword in a devastating horizontal slash.

“Aim for the head!” Thalia screamed the command.

Leena obeyed.

FWIP!

The arrow pierced straight through the Gladiator’s skull.

BOOM!

His head exploded like a firecracker. Energy splattering everywhere.

But he didn’t flinch.

His skill was active.

Berserk Swing.

He felt nothing. No pain. No hesitation.

His blade continued its arc.

SCHLICK!

It met Leena’s stomach.

Cut through half of her midsection.

The impact sent her flying meters away. Her body ragdolling through the air before crashing into the dirt.

Thalia watched in horror.

Her summon lay there. Dying. Green energy leaking from the massive wound in her stomach like blood from a gutted animal.

Then Thalia looked at me.

I turned my gaze to my own situation.

And saw a massive tornado bearing down on Marcus.

’Ah. So that’s what the shaman was doing while I was distracted.’

The Void Gale. A swirling vortex of destructive wind. Hungry. Waiting to devour anything in its path.

I sent a message to Marcus through our mental link. A telepathic command that only a master could deliver to their active summon.

His response came back immediately.

’Master, please. I can’t do that. What if Zenos finds out?’

’Don’t worry. He can’t see you right now. And I promise I won’t tell him.’

I could feel his reluctance. His mental hissing.

But he obeyed.

Marcus charged toward the shaman. Sword raised.

“I’m gonna shove that skeleton stick right back up your ugly ass!”

The shaman just smiled.

His storm shifted. Turned. Locked onto Marcus like a homing missile.

And instead of dodging…

Marcus ignored it.

He knew it was coming from his left. He could feel the wind pressure. The approaching destruction.

But he closed his eyes.

His final words echoed in my mind.

’Fuck you, master.’

FWOOOOOOSH!

The storm swallowed him whole.

No screams of pain.

No curses hurled at me from within the vortex.

Just silence as the tornado raged. Spinning. Tearing. Torturing.

Minutes passed.

Finally, the storm began to calm.

It released its prisoner.

Marcus fell from the height. His body already fading. Dissolving into crimson particles before he even hit the ground.

THUD.

When he landed, there was nothing left.

He was gone.

I looked across the arena.

The opponents were smiling. Celebrating. As if they had already won.

I looked at Thalia.

Her face was filled with shame. Horror. Perhaps tears forming in those green eyes. She looked like someone who had already lost everything.

But then—

I raised my hand.

The signal.

Because the stage was set.

The odds were stacked against us. Both our summons down. The enemy still had three standing.

And in gambling?

Low odds meant high rewards.

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