Chapter 91: You’re Still My Summon
The vanguard seemed to be walking for an eternity. They walked through more than five double doors, passing halls after halls until the entire noise of the Academy became a soothing backdrop.
Finally, after the last set of doors, they entered the subterranean launching corridor.
Professor Wolfgar Windviper stood waiting for them, arms crossed over his scarred chest. He wasn’t dressed in any special armor or even any armor at all. That made it evident that he wouldn’t be joining them.
Wolfgar looked over the vanguard, his single eye taking in their tense postures and wide eyes. He spotted Lancet standing beside Renan Falconhart.
Wolfgar’s brow slightly raised. ’That armor? Did he know it was there? Was it why he wanted that amount of Profits?’
Lancet knew what he was thinking. He wanted to smile about it, but the moment didn’t allow his grin to tear through.
Professor Wolfgar’s eyes left Lancet as he studied the armor of the rest of the vanguard. He saw the ones who chose intelligently, seeking what was most functional for the battle, and he saw the ones who chose frivolously, going for flash instead of fire.
"The time has finally come, all of you," Wolfgar said after a deep breath. "Remember what your training has been these last few days. I know that if you stick to them, this mission will be a textbook."
He scanned the faces one more time. He knew exactly what they were feeling. It was something he had felt as well when he was sent on his first mission.
"I know that this is a lot to process," Wolfgar grunted more softly now. "Adrenaline is a messy fuel, and right now, your heads are all over the place. Some of you would like a moment to prepare personally before we step into the fire."
He gestured to a row of metal doors lining the corridor.
"These are private preparatory rooms. Take one. You have exactly ten minutes. Pray, think, meditate. Whatever you need to prepare you for what’s out there. Hebthej will not be saved if you’re not in the right headspace"
Lancet’s thoughts perked. ’Exactly what I needed.’
He turned to his right and stepped into one of the empty rooms, eyeing Renan who had stepped into the one beside one... with Frieda and Amira.
Lancet pretended not to see anything and shut the door, cutting off all sound from the corridor.
He walked to the end of the plain room where a long bench was parallel to the wall. Lancet took a seat and closed his eyes.
After a long, deep breath, his erratic heartbeat started to slow. He pushed Caelem, the Terrible Three, and the Dean’s speech out of his mind.
Hebthej was all that mattered now.
Except now, at the last moment, he had decided to make a slight tweak to his plan.
Lancet exhaled, opening his eyes. "Summon."
Golden light and cracking blue lightning instantly illuminated the small room. When the glow faded, Astensia and Thor stood before him.
They looked battle-ready. Their armor was the same, but there was a different weight in their pose and demeanor, even in their blue eyes of differing shades.
"Master Lancet," Astensia greeted.
"Summoner," said Thor.
Lancet smiled weakly at their contrast. "Hey, guys."
Thor looked around. "What is this room? Has the mission started yet?"
"In a few minutes it will," Lancet replied. Then, he took a more serious pose... and tone. "But I wanted to talk to you guys about something. We don’t have much time."
Astensia, who had noticed Lancet’s demeanor ever since she arrived, walked forward. "Is something wrong, Lord Lancet?"
"Not exactly," Lancet replied softly. "I just have you tell you guys something before we enter the battlefield. I... have a plan I want you guys to follow."
Thor’s eyes narrowed. Astensia stared. The two Heroines glanced at each other momentarily before returning to Lancet.
"What plan?" Thor asked sternly. "Haven’t we secured a strategy with the others? The man named Wolf and your fellow teammates?"
"Yeah," Lancet said. "I’m not saying that we’re changing that plan. But..."
Astensia leaned close, a tender patience in her eyes. "But... what?"
"Thor," Lancet spoke up, turning to Valkyrie, "when I call, I need you to leave wherever you’re doing and answer me. I will need your help in doing something pivotal."
Thor stared at him like he had gone mad. Like he had drunk audacity from a nearby river. "More pivotal than killing the Demon Head?"
Lancet nodded once. "You don’t have to be the one who kills it. You can hold it for long enough, but when I call, you have to leave it and come to me. Renan Falconhart will finish it. He deserves the kill."
Astensia’s eyes widened. She didn’t know if it was shock or awe. The same Renan Falconhart he disliked?
Thor also looked in shock. But she was more shocked that Lancet could actually suggest something like that to her, especially with such a straight face. "You’re asking me to abandon the reason I became a Valkyrie: killing Demons. Just so I can answer your beck and call?"
Lancet thought about it, then shrugged mildly. "I guess so."
The Valkyrie scoffed, head low. Her shoulders began to bounce as the scoff developed into a chuckle, and then to all out laughter.
Lancet and Astensia stared at her.
"Unbelievable! How unbelievable!" She looked down at Lancet with pure condescension, her eyes crackling like a starting storm. "Do you truly believe I became a 7-Star Platinum Awakener, surpassed the 200 level cap, rose to the ranks of Valkyrie Captain, just to be a puppet to your childish cause?"
Her laughter boomed louder. "Your selfishness truly knows no bounds! Asking me to leave a battle so I can meet your personal wants. I am a VALKYRIE! A hammer of judgment against the evil of the Second World! I am lightning itself and the thunder that follows. Not a mere sparkle to light up your dark desires."
Astensia turned to her friend. "You’re being a bit harsh, Thor."
"No I am not!" Thor snapped. "I’ve told him a number of times that I’m no puppet that answers on his whim."
Lancet looked at her plainly. "You’re still my Summon."
"And a great shame that is!" Thor declared. "I may be your Summon. But you will never be my master."
Lancet’s jaw worked painfully, his heart aching like a claw fist was squeezing the blood out of it. What Thor said hurt deeply, even more because he wasn’t just any Summoner—he created her.
He brought her into this world, he gave her those powers, he gave her the same pride that she was using to punish him this very moment.
What was the point of creating beings if they were just going to disobey, torment and insult you endlessly!
Wouldn’t it just be better if he had made her overpowered and pasted whatever cliche, submissive characteristic he wanted into her? Why did he have to punish himself by making her so prideful? How could he ever prove himself to someone like her?
Heck! Why did he even have to prove himself to her! She’s his creation!
And now that he needed her the most, she was bluntly refusing him. Lancet was trapped. He knew that even with everything he’d gathered and prepared, killing the second Demon Head would still be greatly difficult.
But with Thor by his side, victory would be guaranteed more than likely.
Even more, he was willing to sacrifice the kill of the first Demon Head to achieve this. He wanted Renan to have it. It was only fair since Renan was supposed to kill the second. And Lancet didn’t want Vernon having it either.
His plan was to take Thor with him in the middle of the battle, when the first Demon Head was nearing defeat. Together, they would destroy the second before it even fully raised its ugly head.
But he couldn’t just tell Thor or Astensia this plan. Neither of their personalities or motives would allow them to keep it a secret from the others.
For Astensia, it would be the right thing to do.
For Thor, it would be the necessary thing.
And if the Academy found out he somehow knew about a second Demon Head — something that was supposed to be impossible, he would be hounded with endless questions after the mission.
Lancet was dearly frustrated.