Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made-Chapter 21: Enter the Gates!

Everyone watched as the screen was divided into four massive columns, one for each Class Group.

Beneath the columns were the names of every enrolled freshman, neatly organized into their randomly assigned three-man squads, with a hovering [ 000 ] point box right beside them.

Lancet let his eyes wander over the board. He didn’t care about the randoms; he was looking for the heavy hitters.

Under the Specialist column, right at the top of Squad 2, was Renan Falconhart, the Heavenly Knight and the story’s main protagonist. A few squads down sat Sienna Starbridge, a Brilliant-Talent Archer whose arrows never missed.

In the Elementalist section, the names Frieda Castleloft, the Fire Mage that was already heads over heels in love with Renan, and Deron Darc, a Shadow Mage, glowed brightly.

Phiodor Blaze looked at their names with a smug grin. He knew they were definitely going to win this week’s quota.

Under Enchanters, Lancet spotted Amira Vineheart, the Arcanist who would later become a major player in the academy’s political sphere.

And finally, under his own Summoner column, he saw the three hopes of Ms. Maecil: Min Tu Akaran, Dane Beardclaw, and the surprising addition of his roommate, Luke Travers.

’Those are the monsters of this generation,’ Lancet thought. ’They’re going to treat this Basic Dungeon like an all-you-can-eat buffet.’

"Squads 1 through 21, step up to the Gates!" the Dungeon Instructor bellowed.

Lancet walked forward with his two reluctant teammates, Patton the Golemancer and Vera the Druid. As they approached the swirling, purple-and-black vortex of Gate 3, Ms. Maecil jogged up to them, her face tight with worry.

"Remember what I said, Lancet. Stay close to them," she urged, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don’t wander off! Let Patton and Vera handle the combat. Just keep your head down and survive, alright?"

Patton rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t strain a muscle.

"Enter the Gates!"

Lancet joined his team and stepped forward. He didn’t really know what walking through a portal would feel like. Somehow, it felt familiar.

It was like taking a shower but never getting wet.

Realizing his eyes were shut, he opened them to see what Dungeon they had been taken into.

It looked like a jungle. Not just because of the giant, bioluminescent ferns towering twenty feet into the air, or the thick canopies of emerald leaves blocked out the artificial sky, but the freaking heat.

Lancet was already boiling up that he wanted to get naked right then.

Before he could even take in the scenery and adjust to the temperature, a hand shoved him hard in the chest.

He stumbled backward, catching his footing in the damp soil. He looked up to see Patton glaring at him, his fists clenched.

"Listen up, Dull Rank," Patton snarled, pointing a thick, dirty finger at Lancet’s nose. "Ms. Maecil might be stupid enough to pity you, but we aren’t babysitting you."

Vera stepped up beside Patton, gripping her wooden staff tight. Her green braids swayed as she shook her head in disgust. "We are already at a disadvantage being in a three-man squad with a Grace-less Summoner. If you trail behind us, you’re just going to aggro monsters, slow us down, and try to leech off our Tributes."

"Guys, wait," Lancet started, holding up his hands. "I can actually—"

"Shut up and don’t dare follow us," Patton interrupted, his voice dropping to a harsh threat. "If I see you trailing us, I’ll have my Mud Golem bury you up to your neck. Go find a bush to hide in until the timer runs out."

Without another word, Patton and Vera turned and dashed into the thick foliage, their footsteps quickly fading into the sounds of the jungle.

Lancet stood alone in the clearing. He blinked, staring at the shaking fern leaves where they had disappeared.

Then, he let out a long, heavy sigh. "Well," he muttered to himself, "if that’s what they want."

A small blue notification dinged in the corner of his vision. The leaderboard was updating in real-time on his UI.

⸢ Renan Falconhart : 45 Pts ⸥

⸢ Frieda Castleloft : 30 Pts ⸥

⸢ Min Tu Akaran : 25 Pts ⸥

’Already?’ Lancet thought, chuckling. It wasn’t like he was surprised or anything. The novel did make sure to make a big deal about Renan being overpowered.

Back in the Dungeon Hall, the atmosphere was electric.

The instructors stood before the massive broadcaster screens, watching the live feeds of their top students. Cheers and gasps came when the leaderboard updated.

"Look at that!" the Specialist Head Instructor, Dexter Marcist, a muscly man with a greatsword strapped to his back, roared with laughter. "Falconhart just cleaved through those goblins without even breaking a sweat! He’s already at 50 points! The kid is a monster!"

Phiodor Blaze scowled. "He lacks finesse. My Elementalist, Frieda, is completely incinerating the trolls in her Dungeon. Look at her perfect control of fire. That is true power."

Maecil Gudgarten stood a little further back, wringing her hands as she watched Min Tu’s skeleton warrior expertly dismantle a mob of goblins.

’We’re doing okay,’ she thought, praying silently. ’Even if we’re not first, we just need enough points to mount a challenge next week!’

Inside the Dungeon, Lancet was taking a leisurely stroll.

He was yet to run into any threat and started to worry that Patton and Vera had already killed all of them. If he failed to get any kills, then that meant no points which meant no Profits or Tributes.

He hastened his steps with this realization. A few steps into the jungle, he swiped a massive leaf out of his path, stepping into a small, muddy ravine.

Then, a rustling sound brought him to a stop. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

This was his first time possibly being ambushed, and not just by people, but by monsters.

He looked around frantically and saw five pairs of glowing yellow eyes staring at him from the shadows of the ravine.

Goblins.

They weren’t the cute, fantasy-game kind. These were vicious, hunchbacked creatures with rotting green skin, holding crude, rusted blades coated in dried blood.

They scrambled down the muddy banks, entirely cutting off Lancet’s exits. They hissed, noticing that he had no weapons and was all alone.

Perfect easy prey.

The leader, a slightly larger goblin with a bone necklace, shrieked and leaped directly at Lancet’s throat.

Lancet quickly hurried backwards and as he fell into a mud pile, he shot his hand forward and pulled his first Heroine from his Summon Space.

"Astensia!" Lancet called.

⸢ -20 MP ⸥

The jungle canopy above them was violently torn apart.

A pillar of absolute, blinding golden light struck the earth like a divine meteor. It slammed directly in front of Lancet.

BOOM!

It evaporated the goblin leader, and the concussive shockwave of the manifestation was powerful enough to hurl the four remaining goblins, smashing them into the ravine walls, their bodies crumpling lifelessly before they even had a chance to scream.

⸢ Five goblins killed by Heroine, Astensia ⸥

⸢ Astensia has gained +120 EXP ⸥

⸢ You have gained +240 EXP ⸥

⸢ You have gained 50 CP ⸥

The golden light evaporated upward, revealing the towering, majestic figure of the Ironwill Knight.

Lancet looked up from his system notification and at Astensia as she stood from her kneeling position, the Blessed Blade tight around her grasp.

She looked around the muddy ravine, then down at the pulverized goblins, and finally at Lancet.

"You called, Lord Lancet," she said, her voice sweet and resonant. "Though it seems the landing alone was sufficient for these vermin."

Lancet grinned, excited by the points he had just claimed. "Thank you, Astensia."

She shot him a beautiful smile. "It is my pleasure, Master."

"Come on," Lancet said, leading the way. "There’s more this way."

Astensia nodded and gently followed after her lord.

Back in the Dungeon Hall, the scoreboard dinged repeatedly, but with hundreds of names constantly shifting, minor updates went unnoticed.

Until an assistant instructor for the Dungeon Hall squinted at the middle of the board.

"Hey," the assistant pointed. "Look at the Summoner board. Squad 21 just spiked."

Maecil Gudgarten’s head snapped over. She quickly located Squad 14 on the giant scoreboard.

[ Squad 21 ]

[ Patton : 10 Pts ]

[ Vera : 15 Pts ]

[ Lancet : 50 Pts ]

Maecil blinked, rubbing her eyes. "Fifty? That can’t be right. Lancet is a Dull Rank. How has he managed fifty points already?"

Phiodor glared in conceited anger.

"Check the broadcaster screen for Squad 21!" the Head Dungeon Instructor ordered, tapping his console.

The screen for Lancet’s squad above their Dungeon Gate showed something interesting. It was split to two sides.

On the left side, the entire hall watched as Patton and Vera struggled to coordinate attacks against a single, low-level. They were miles away from Lancet, completely out of sync.

"Wait," Phiodor Blaze sneered, stepping closer. "He is separated from his team? Then how did the Dull Rank get fifty points all at once? Did he trip and fall on a dying beast? Didn’t Maecil report that he has no summon?"

"No," the Head Dungeon Instructor said, his voice suddenly dropping to a hushed whisper as he stared at the right side of the feed. "It seems he has help."

Everyone looked at Lancet’s side on the screen.

They saw him walking casually through the dense jungle. But he wasn’t alone. Walking half a step in front of him, radiating an aura that they could feel even there, was a towering female Knight in burnished gold and silver plate armor.

Every footstep she took seemed to make the jungle itself bow away from her.

Dexter Marcist, the Specialist Head Instructor, pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

His eyes were wide, completely entirely stripped of their previous arrogance as he stared at the woman on the screen. The winged helm. The thick braid of blonde hair.

"Hah..." the man gasped. He pointed a trembling finger at the screen. "Isn’t that... the great Ironwill of the North, Astensia Valengard?!"