SSS-Ranked Summoner: Only I Summon All Heroes And Heroines Of Legend-Chapter 5: The Keeper’s Library

Hello, Altair Elfender.

The words materialized across the page like ink bleeding through from another dimension, each letter forming in beautiful calligraphy.

Altair stared. His heart thumped against his ribs.

He felt a flurry of emotions, shock, worry, and a bit of fear even if this was his summon, he strengthened his resolve because pathetic as it seemed to everyone else. The sooner he understood it, the better his chances of survival in a world that had already written him off.

A thought struck him. If the book could write to him, maybe he could write back.

He snatched a quill from the desk’s edge, dipped it in ink with shaking fingers, and scrawled across the clear page:

"Hello, who are you?"

Both messages faded, as if absorbed by the sheet itself.

Altair jerked back, nearly toppling his chair. New text bloomed across the paper, flowing and in the same exact writing style.

Great, you can actually write. I was a bit confused with the funny text you sent earlier.

His thoughts flashed to the blood stain that should have been on the pages. The suicide attempt. That desperate, final act of a boy who’d given up without even checking his options. "What an idiot," he muttered about Altair.

More texts appeared:

My name is Minerva, the former keeper of the book, and your predecessor.

A full stop. Deliberate. Final. Altair recognized it instinctively as his cue.

He wrote: "Okay, so Minerva, can you tell me what this book is?"

The text vanished. His pulse quickened with anticipation.

One word materialized:

NO

"Tsk." Disappointment tasted bitter on his tongue.

Then:

But I can show you.

His eyes widened.

The pages erupted into motion, flipping with violent speed to the center of the book. A summoning seal drew itself onto the pages, blazing to life, intricate circles within circles. The pattern spread, glowing with an intensity that hurt to look at directly.

The seal pulled at him.

Stretching Altair’s consciousness till it snapped and folded through dimensions that had no names.

Then, a bit of stability. A ground had appeared beneath his feet, fresh air rushed in, filling his lungs.

He stood before a white door.

Altair turned around, taking in his surroundings. White. Everything was white. The floor, ceiling, walls, all seamless and spotless, extending into infinity. Only the door broke the monotony, standing alone like a monument to possibility.

He approached. Raised his fist. Knocked repeatedly.

On the fifth knock, he was already through it.

The transition was instantaneous, disorienting. There was no opening, he just suddenly existed on the other side. He found himself in a white hallway, clean and endless, stretching in both directions with no visible end.

"Come on, this way." The voice was female, melodious, carrying the kind of warmth that made you want to trust it immediately. It echoed from somewhere ahead, beckoning him forward.

Altair walked. Each step he took felt heavy, amplified by the void around him. The hallway seemed to stretch as he moved, perspective warping in ways that made his head spin. Vertigo took hold as the architecture began to betray his eyes. Just as the dizziness peaked, it ended.

He stepped through into...

"Holy shit."

The library erupted before him, vast beyond comprehension. It rivaled the grand basilica in scale and sophistication, but this was something else entirely. Rows upon rows of shelves spiraled upward in impossible configurations, defying gravity and geometry. Books lined every surface in their thousands, millions, perhaps infinite.

Marble statues of figures he’d never seen stood between the shelves, their faces noble and fierce, with eyes that seemed to track his movement. Floating artifacts hovered before countless doors that lined the walls all the way to a ceiling so high it disappeared into white mist. Each artifact glowed with its own internal light, swords, shields, staffs, crowns, rings, things he had no names for.

His jaw dropped. The sheer scale of it overwhelmed his senses.

"So, the Great Altair Elfender." The voice cut through his stupor, sharp with irony. "You are my successor, right?"

He turned left.

One look at her and Altair froze. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of a Roman fresco. Classy, sure, but devastatingly effective. regal, draped in ancient silks that were somehow modest and seductive all at once.

Her hair was a literal flood of moonlight, spilling past her knees in a shock of white. She was built with the kind of curves that sent his hormones into a tailspin, but it was her gaze that stopped his heart. Her eyes didn’t just look at him; they scanned his soul, downloading his secrets and weighing his worth in real-time.

For a moment, Altair warred with himself. Satoshi’s stoicism versus Altair’s teenage nervousness, two personalities grinding against each other like grinding stone.

"Erm, erm, yes. I am." He stood erect, trying for dignity and probably failing.

Get it together. You’ve faced death twice. You can handle talking to a pretty woman.

"So." He cleared his throat. "What is this book?"

"It is the Codex Aeterna Heroica." She spoke the name with reverence, each syllable weighted with power. "The Codex of Eternal Heroes. In summary: a mystical tome that contains the contracts of various heroes across every timeline."

She looked him dead in the eye and smiles. "And you, Lord Elfender, have been chosen to protect it, and to keep the stories of legends alive."

The words hung in the air like a proclamation.

"Sounds like a lot." Altair’s mind raced. "So why me?"

"I’m sorry I cannot answer that." Minerva shrugged, the gesture somehow both elegant and dismissive. "The book chooses who it wills."

"And you?" He pressed. "How did you end up here?"

Her expression shifted, just for a moment, but he caught it. There was pain, regret, shame.

"I failed." The admission came quietly. "This is my way of making up for my failure."

That wasn’t comforting. Not even a little. Someone who looked like she knew everything, who radiated confidence and power, had failed at keeping this book safe. What chance did he have?

"That’s a downer." The words came out before he could stop them. "How am I expected to succeed where you didn’t?"

"The Codex will guide you, Altair Elfender." She said it like a prayer, like an article of faith.

"Speaking of the book..." He glanced around the impossible library. "Where is it anyway?"

"Hihihi." Her laugh was light, musical, but infuriatingly cryptic. She smiled with closed eyes, like someone enjoying a private joke.

"You’re in it."

The words came with a shock.

"So all of this..." He gestured at the infinite library and the impossible architecture.

"Yes." Her smile widened.

"Wow." He breathed the word, as his mind sought to grasp this phenomenon. "So what do I do now that I’m here?"

"Well, you could read?" She began walking, her movements graceful, motioning for him to follow. He did, scrambling to keep pace as she ascended a winding staircase that spiraled between the bookshelves. "All the books here contain tales and histories of the legends you will, in time, call forth. The fastest way to get their attention is to read about them. And if they find you worthy, they will call on you."

The staircase seemed to shift as they climbed, rearranging itself to accommodate their path. Altair’s head spun, but he focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

"When they do call on you..." She continued, voice growing serious. "I advise you to play your cards right. The book attracts foes, evil seeking to claim it as theirs. It would be wise to acquire your summons as quickly as possible."

She pulled a book from a shelf without breaking stride and tossed it backward. Altair caught it reflexively, nearly fumbling.

"Heroes are different." Minerva kept moving, kept talking. "In power and behavior. Which is why it’s best you know about them. Helps with the whole bonding process."

She paused on a landing, turning to face him with sudden intensity.

"Oh, and something to note." Her eyes locked onto his. "Not all heroes are your heroes. Learn to broaden your perspective."

His expression shifted to suspicion. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, she grabbed another book and tossed it to him. He caught this one more smoothly.

"There. Begin with those two. They should be easy to contract. And don’t worry, time has no effect here. Your dedication to study is the only thing that matters."

"Yare yare." The Japanese phrase slipped out unbidden. In both lives—as Satoshi and Altair—he’d never been one for heavy reading. Books were torture, not enlightenment. But what choice did he have?

Minerva reached a door that appeared from nowhere. She opened it with a casual gesture.

"This is the study. Best get to work."

The room beyond was simple. White chair. White table. White walls. Everything white, clean, waiting to be filled with knowledge or madness.

Altair entered, sank into the chair. The books felt heavy in his hands, weighted with more than just paper and binding.

Minerva moved to close the door, then paused.

"Oh, and if you want to leave, simply will it. You’ll be back in your room." Her final words, delivered with that same cryptic smile.

The door shut with a soft click.

And silence once again filled the room.

Altair stared at the two books in his hands, turning them over to read their covers. Gold lettering on leather bindings, embossed deep and permanent:

THE LEGEND OF HERACLES

THE LEGEND OF DELILAH

Both names stared back at him, completely alien to his knowledge.

"Well, well, well." He set them on the table, side by side. "Let’s see what kind of heroes choose failures like me."

He opened the first book.

THE LEGEND OF HERACLES