Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made-Chapter 23: Out Of The Top Spot

The wolves glanced at them, then decided to try their luck anyway. The leader lunged, its jaws snapping toward Vera’s throat.

"Astensia!" Lancet said.

"I’m on it, Master!"

She pushed her blade forward, causing a golden projection that sped through the air and struck the leaping wolf, punching into its side as it crashed into a bioluminescent fern.

The other wolves looked at their leader, but before they could turn back to Astensia, a shadow loomed over them from above.

KRAKRABOOM!

The sword energy erupted with a thunderous blast, shedding off the skins of all the Simple Wolves to ordinary bones.

"What..." Patton choked out, his eyes bulging as he stared from the mud he had fallen into. "Is that trash commanding her?"

Astensia moved like she had no limits. The rest of the wolves, angry and scared, started to swarm her. But she was barely moved.

She slammed her shield into an attacking wolf, pulverizing its skull with a sickening crunch. Another wolf tried to bite her leg; its teeth shattered against her silver greaves.

She grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and hurled it into three others, sending them tumbling into the underbrush.

⸢ Twelve Simple Wolves killed by Heroine, Astensia ⸥

⸢ Astensia has gained +200 EXP ⸥

⸢ You have gained +400 EXP ⸥

⸢ You have gained 70 CP ⸥

In less than twenty seconds, the ferocious pack that had nearly eliminated Squad 21 was reduced to fading pixels and whimpering, fleeing shadows.

Vera lowered her wooden staff, her hands shaking violently. She looked from the dissipating wolves to the towering, armored woman standing amidst the carnage, and finally to Lancet, who was casually swiping away his golden system screen.

"Is... is that your summon?" Vera stammered, her once proud voice now reduced to a tinsy-bitsy whisper.

Patton scrambled out of the mud, slowly approaching them as his eyes refused to leave the Knight’s glorious body. "That armor... the winged helm... Isn’t that Astensia? The Ironwill of the North?! I’ve seen a picture of her before!"

Lancet jumped down from the mossy boulder, landing with a soft thud. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked past his stunned teammates. "Let’s keep moving. We have a quota to fill, don’t we?"

Astensia gave them a glance. "Perhaps this is a lesson to treat everyone with respect. You don’t know who could end up helping you in a time of need."

Then, she turned and followed her master deep into the jungle.

Outside in the Dungeon Hall, Phiodor tightened his fist so hard that his nails almost dug crimson into his palms. "That cheating slum rat!"

Maecil smiled, hopeful. "He saved them. We’re not out of the top race!"

Phiodor looked at her, face as red as tomatoes.

The Dungeon expedition continued. More students killed more beasts, scores increased, students overtook other students, and the leaderboard kept updating.

[ Renan Falconhart: 1230 ]

[ Min Tu Akaran: 980 ]

[ Frieda Castleloft: 965 ]

[ Lancet Leogardt: 905 ]

...

[ Renan Falconhart: 1405 ]

[ Frieda Castleloft: 1270 ]

[ Lancet Leogardt: 1255 ]

...

[ Renan Falconhart: 1625 ]

[ Lancet Leogardt: 1545 ⸥

"Whoa!" a Dungeon instructor exclaimed. "He’s overtaken Frieda Castleloft! It seems Elementalist-D might be out of the top spot competition."

"Yeah. It’s between Specialist and Summoner-D now."

Phiodor looked like he was going to explode, he watched the screens with wild, red eyes. "What are they doing?! Her teammates should stop killing and let her kill the beasts to get the points!"

The main Hall instructor looked at Phiodor. "Is that how you teach, Mr. Blaze? Do you care more about winning than the education of your students?"

Phiodor gave the man an insulting once-over. "Shut up. How can you question me? You’re just an ordinary Hall instructor."

Ding!

The timer rang to signify that the Dungeon Clearing had ended. Phiodor smugly hissed. "At least it was the Specialist team that wo—"

[ 1. Lancet Leogardt (Summoner) : 1841 Pts ]

[ 2. Renan Falconhart (Specialist) : 1840 Pts ]

[ 3. Frieda Castleloft (Elementalist) : 1415 Pts ]

[ 4. Min Tu Akaran (Summoner) : 1390 Pts ]

A spatial distortion swept through all the Dungeons, teleporting the First Years back to the large Dungeon Hall.

Lancet materialized on the stone floor, Astensia was already back in his Summon Space, and the hall was entirely silent. Like someone had died.

’What happened?" he thought. ’Did someone actually die?’

Lancet blinked, looking around. Hundreds of students were staring directly at him. The Elementalists, the Specialists, the Enchanters, every single one of them had their eyes fixed on his face.

And the Leaderboard.

Lancet followed their gazes up to the tall structure.

[ 1. Lancet Leogardt (Summoner) : 1841 Pts ]

"Congratulations to the Elementalist Class for winning this week’s expedition!" the Dungeon Hall instructor declared.

That wasn’t surprising to anyone. They always won. But the big deal for today wasn’t the Class Group that had gathered the most overall points, but the MVP.

"And congratulations to Lancet Leogardt of Summoner-D for being the MVP!"

Lancet had beaten Revan Falconhart by exactly one point.

Maecil began the applause as she beamed at him heartily, excited and proud, then others followed weakly. They didn’t care for Lancet truly, they just wanted to know how he got Astensia as a summon.

Through the parting crowd of students, Lancet locked eyes with Renan Falconhart. The protagonist stood tall, his silver armor pristine.

Renan didn’t glare or sneer like the bullies in the novel. He just gave Lancet a quiet, intensely calculating look; the look of a king recognizing a sudden, impossible rival.

"How did you make our historic Heroine a summon?! Tell us!" a student yelled.

"Yeah, tell us!"

Even instructors swarmed him. Dexter Marcist was shouting questions about whether he could meet Astensia. Phiodor Blaze was glaring daggers from the back of the crowd, his face flushed with anger.

Maecil pushed her way through the mob, her eyes wide behind her glasses. She grabbed Lancet by the shoulders, looking him up and down as if checking to see if he was an illusion.

"Lancet... how?" Maecil gasped, excited, happy and also confused. "You summoned a Platinum Legend. A historical figure! You let me treat you like a Dull Rank! Why didn’t you tell me you could do this?"

Lancet looked at his homeroom teacher, his expression calm. "You never asked, Ms. Maecil."

Before Maecil could respond, the Head Dungeon Instructor appeared with a serious expression. "Lancet Leogardt. You are to report to Dean Ordenance’s office immediately."