SSS-Ranked Summoner: Only I Summon All Heroes And Heroines Of Legend-Chapter 52: Eyes As Cold As Death

The cafeteria felt different after the exam.

Lighter, somehow. The oppressive tension that had been hanging over the Academy for weeks had finally lifted, replaced by something closer to relief. Students filled the tables again, their voices rising in genuine conversation rather than anxious whispers.

Altair sat with Finn, Ryka, and Svenja at their usual spot near the windows. The afternoon sun cast long golden rays across the polished wood, and for the first time in months, he felt like he could actually relax.

"I’m ordering everything," Finn declared, scanning the menu tablet with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Literally everything. I earned it."

Ryka laughed. "You’re going to make yourself sick."

"Worth it." Finn tapped several items on the screen. "Three months of Master Oz’s training, a survival exam from hell, and passing the academy exams? Yeah, I’m celebrating properly."

Altair smiled and ordered something simpler—grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and bread. Comfort food, nothing fancy.

Ryka ordered a steak, medium rare, with a side of glazed carrots. "My father’s going to want a full report when I get home. Might as well enjoy my last few hours of freedom."

Svenja studied the menu for a long moment before selecting a light salad and soup. She set the tablet down without comment, her pale eyes drifting toward the window.

The food arrived quickly, and for a while, they just ate.

Finn broke it first, as usual. "So," he said around a mouthful of roasted pork. "Holidays. What’s everyone doing?"

"Going home," Ryka said immediately. "Back to Valthoria. My family’s estate is just outside the capital."

She glanced at Altair. "What about you?"

"Same," Altair said. "The Elfender manor’s in Valthoria too. About an hour north of the city."

Ryka’s expression brightened. "Right! We should travel together then. It doesn’t make sense to take separate carriages if we’re going to the same place."

Altair considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that works. When are you planning to leave?"

"Day after tomorrow, probably. Give myself a day to rest and pack properly." She grinned. "Plus, I want to sleep in an actual bed for at least twenty-four hours before dealing with my family."

"Fair." Altair took a bite of his chicken. "Day after tomorrow sounds good."

Finn looked between them. "Lucky. I’m heading back to Halinor. That’s like a two-day trip by carriage, maybe three depending on the weather."

"Where’s Halinor?" Ryka asked.

"East continent. It’s a small kingdom, filled with mostly farmland and mining towns. Nothing as fancy as Valthoria." Finn shrugged, but there was warmth in his voice. "But it’s home."

They all turned to Svenja.

She’d been eating quietly, her movements precise and economical. Now, with three pairs of eyes on her, she set down her fork and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

"Nord-Imperium," she said simply.

Finn whistled. "That’s far. Like, really far. Northern continent, right?"

Svenja nodded once.

"How long’s the trip?" Ryka asked.

Svenja held up four fingers.

"Four days?" Altair guessed.

Svenja nodded.

They continued eating, the conversation drifting to lighter topics. Finn recounted a story from his childhood. Ryka shared a memory of her older brother teaching her to ride Rhegalyion for the first time. Even Svenja contributed, offering small nods and the occasional gesture when prompted.

It felt normal.

Like they were just friends sharing a meal, rather than summoners who’d been through hell together.

When they finally finished, the plates cleared away by the dining hall staff, they lingered at the table for a while longer. No one seemed in a hurry to leave.

"I can’t believe we’re actually done," Ryka said, leaning back in her chair. "First year, over. Just like that."

"Feels surreal," Finn agreed. "Like, I know we passed, still feels strange"

Altair nodded. He knew what Finn meant. The exam had been so intense, so all-consuming, that its absence left a strange kind of void. Like his brain was still braced for the next challenge and couldn’t quite accept that there wasn’t one coming.

"What do you think second year will be like?" Ryka asked.

"Harder," Altair said without hesitation.

Finn groaned. "Don’t say that. Let me enjoy the holiday first."

Ryka laughed. "He’s probably right, though. If first year was this brutal, second year’s going to be worse."

They sat in silence for another moment, watching the view outside their windoro.

Then Ryka stood, stretching her arms over her head. "Alright. I’m exhausted. I’m going back to my dorm to crash."

Finn followed suit. "Yeah, same. I need about twelve hours of sleep minimum."

Altair pushed his chair back. "Good idea."

Svenja rose as well.

They walked out of the dining hall together, splitting off at the main corridor. Ryka and Svenja headed toward the western dorms, Finn and Altair toward the eastern ones.

"See you tomorrow!" Ryka called over her shoulder.

"Later!" Finn waved.

Svenja said nothing, but she glanced back briefly, her pale eyes meeting Altair’s for just a second before she turned away.

---

Back in his dorm room, Altair collapsed onto his bed fully clothed.

Finn was already half-asleep on the other side of the room, his breathing evening out into the slow rhythm of unconsciousness.

Altair stared at the ceiling, his mind drifting.

He thought about the next few weeks. Going home. Seeing his family again. Lord Godric, Lady Helena, Michael, Zara. The Elfender estate with its cold halls and colder expectations.

He wondered what they’d say when they saw him. Whether they’d notice the changes.

Probably not.

They’d see what they always saw.

He pushed the thought away and closed his eyes.

---

Hours later, his phone buzzed.

Altair woke groggily, fumbling for the device on his nightstand. The screen’s glow was harsh against his heavy eyes, and he squinted at it.

A text message.

From Svenja.

He sat up immediately, his drowsiness evaporating.

Svenja never texted first. Not once in the entire time he’d known her. Their conversations had always been initiated by him, or occasionally by random texts pulling them both into group chats.

But this was a direct message. Just to him.

He opened it.

---

Svenja: I’m leaving soon. Currently at the student pickup area.

---

That was it, not much of an explanation.

But the meaning was clear.

She wanted him there.

Altair glanced at the time. 04:47 PM.

He swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his jacket, and slipped out of the room as quietly that Finn didn’t even stir.

---

The pickup area was located on the southern edge of campus, near the main gates.

It was a wide, open courtyard designed specifically for students waiting to be collected by their families. During the day, it was bustling with carriages, airships, and magical transports of every variety.

Svenja sat on one of the benches near the edge of the area. A single travel trunk sat beside her, neatly packed and labeled.

Altair approached quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor.

She looked up as he drew near, her pale eyes reflecting the lantern light.

"Hey," Altair said, sitting down beside her.

"Hey," Svenja replied.

For a moment, they just sat there in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable—it never was with Svenja—but there was a weight to it. An expectation hanging in the air.

Then Svenja spoke.

"Thank you."

Altair blinked, startled. Her voice was soft, but clear.

"For what?" he asked.

"For making this year different." She paused, her gaze drifting toward the dark expanse of the Academy grounds. "I expected... isolation. And I lived it."

She turned back to him.

"Until you came up to me, and you changed that."

Altair felt something warm settle in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, to not let the surprise show too much on his face.

"I didn’t do—

"You did," Svenja interrupted gently. "You included me. You spoke to me. You didn’t treat me like... like I was strange."

Her expression softened, just slightly.

"That mattered."

Altair swallowed. He didn’t know what to say. Svenja wasn’t someone who opened up like this, the last time she almost did, it ended in a weird disaster. And now, sitting here, she was trying to give him something vulnerable, again.

"I’m glad I met you," Altair said finally. "Honestly. You’ve made my year better too."

Svenja’s lips twitched—almost a smile.

"I hope our friendship doesn’t change," she said quietly. "During the holidays. Or after."

"It won’t," Altair said immediately. "Not if we don’t let it."

She nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer.

Then, faintly, a sound echoed across the courtyard.

A honk.

Svenja’s head turned slightly, and Altair followed her gaze.

A white luxury limousine had pulled into the courtyard, its pristine surface gleaming under the lantern light. The windows were heavily tinted, making it impossible to see inside. The vehicle moved with absolute silence, stopping smoothly near the far edge of the pickup area.

Svenja stood, picking up her travel trunk.

Altair rose as well. "That’s you?"

She nodded.

"Let me walk you over," he said.

She didn’t object.

They crossed the courtyard together, the limousine growing larger as they approached. Up close, the vehicle was even more impressive—sleek, modern, and exuding wealth in every polished detail.

The driver’s door opened.

A man stepped out.

He was tall, about six-two, dressed in an impeccable white suit with white gloves. His face was null, devoid of any emotion, and his eyes—pale, almost colorless—were eerily similar to Svenja’s.

He moved with mechanical precision, walking around the vehicle without acknowledging either of them. He took Svenja’s trunk from her hands, carried it to the rear of the limousine, and placed it carefully into the boot.

Then, without a word, he walked to the opposite side of the vehicle and opened the rear passenger door.

Still silent.

Still expressionless.

Svenja turned to Altair.

"Goodbye," she said softly.

"Goodbye," Altair replied. "Have a safe trip."

She hesitated for just a moment. Then she spoke again, her voice quieter now.

"Text me. Every day."

Altair smiled. "I will."

Svenja nodded, then turned and walked toward the open door.

She climbed into the limousine gracefully, her pale figure disappearing into the dark interior.

The butler closed the door behind her without a sound, then returned to the driver’s seat.

The engine started—so quiet Altair almost didn’t hear it.

He stood there, watching as the limousine prepared to leave.

And then the window nearest to him began to lower.

Slowly. Just a few inches.

Altair froze.

The interior of the limousine was dark. But through the narrow gap in the window, he saw it.

An eye.

Purplish-pink. Gleaming with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

It stared at him.

Not just looked—stare. With intent. With malice so thick it felt like a physical weight pressing down on his chest.

Altair’s breath hitched as his body locked up, every muscle tensing instinctively. The air around him felt heavier, colder, like the temperature had dropped ten degrees in an instant.

The eye didn’t blink.

It just watched him.

And in that moment, Altair felt fear.

Not the adrenaline-fueled fear of combat.

This was a primal fear that reminded you that you were prey.

The window began to rise again.

Slowly.

And then it was gone.

The limousine’s engine purred softly, and the vehicle began to move. It glided out of the courtyard with the same eerie silence it had arrived with, disappearing beyond the Academy gates.

Altair stood there, frozen, his heart pounding in his chest.

What the hell was that?

He forced himself to breathe. But the feeling didn’t fade.

That eye. That presence.

It wasn’t normal.

And it had been sitting in the same vehicle as Svenja.

Altair stared at empty space.

Who, or what had just been watching him?

And why did it feel like a warning?