All My Summons Become Divine Girls

Hajin’s hand froze halfway to the second letter.

The King’s eyes hadn’t left his face, and the intensity there made the morning light filtering through the windows feel colder somehow.

"Those are not standard documents," the King said, his voice still low but carrying perfectly across the table. "I wrote them myself. My seal, wording, and personal guarantee attached to your name."

Hajin felt something heavy settle in his chest, ’oh.’

He looked down at the letters again, suddenly aware that the wax seals weren’t just decorative. The royal crest pressed into each one was a direct line from this man’s hand to whoever read them.

"The guild master will read that recommendation personally," the King continued, leaning back slightly but not losing any of the gravity in his posture. "He will know I vouched for you and that I put my judgment on the line for a young man with no formal training, verified clears or family name backing him."

Hajin’s throat felt tight, ’he makes it sound like I am about to walk into an execution, not a test.’

"If you pass the Ranker evaluation," the King said, "the guild accepts my judgment as sound. The Crown’s relationship with the adventurer’s hierarchy remains stable. Everyone wins."

He paused, and the silence stretched long enough that Hajin heard Juna’s tail shift against her chair.

"But if you fail," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "it does not reflect on you alone. It tells the guild master that the King of this kingdom either cannot judge combat ability or is willing to trade favors for political convenience. It weakens every recommendation I issue afterward. It makes my word lighter."

Hajin stared at the letters, suddenly feeling like they weighed far more than paper and wax.

’I asked for the fastest path to Ranker status,’ he thought, his fingers tightening slightly against the envelope. ’I didn’t ask to be strapped to the King’s reputation like this.’

"Your Majesty," he said slowly, looking up. "I didn’t realize—"

"I know," the King interrupted, not unkindly. "You asked for tools, and I chose to give you something sharper than you expected. That is not your fault, but it is your reality now."

The Queen watched the exchange quietly, her expression unreadable. Didi had gone very still in her chair, her eyes moving between her father and Hajin like she was seeing both of them clearly for the first time.

"I am not telling you this to frighten you," he continued, his tone shifting slightly, becoming more direct. "I am telling you because you need to understand that I did not hand you charity. I handed you trust, and trust, unlike gold, can be broken."

Hajin sat with that for a moment, turning the words over in his head.

’He wants me to pass,’ he realized. ’Not because he cares about my career, but because my success is now connected to his authority. That should feel manipulative, but somehow it doesn’t.’

It felt honest, the King wasn’t pretending to be a benevolent uncle handing out gifts. He was a ruler making an investment, and he was looking Hajin in the eye while admitting it.

"I will pass," Hajin said, and the words came out steadier than he felt inside.

The King’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"I believe you will," he said. "Because you survived a monster that killed trained knights, and because my daughter believes in you enough to argue with me in front of the entire Council."

Didi’s face turned slightly pink, "Father, that was a private conversation."

"It was shouted across a hallway," the King replied dryly. "Hardly private."

The Queen let out a small laugh, covering her mouth with one hand.

Hajin felt the tension in the room fracture just slightly, enough to breathe again. He looked down at the letters once more, then tucked them carefully into his inner pocket.

"The gate permit is simpler," the King continued, his voice returning to its normal volume. "Show it to any gatekeeper. They will let you through controlled zones up to the designated threat level. Do not lose it. Replacing a royal permit takes three weeks and six bureaucrats who will make you wish you had simply waited."

"I will keep it safe," Hajin said.

"Good." The King stood, and the rest of the table followed his movement immediately. "Then we are finished here. Didi, escort our guests out. The carriage will take them wherever they need to go, and I would prefer my daughter not look exhausted when the Flint Patriarch returns for his follow-up meeting."

Hajin’s shoulders tightened at the mention of the Flint family, but he kept his face calm.

Didi rounded the table quickly, touching Hajin’s sleeve again with the same casual familiarity as before. "Come on. Before he decides to give you a country or something."

"I heard that," the King said, not turning around as he walked toward a side door with the Queen at his side.

"I meant for you to," Didi muttered, already steering Hajin and Juna toward the dining hall exit.

The corridors outside were quieter now, the palace still waking up to its morning rhythm. Didi led them toward the main entrance instead of deeper into the guest wing, and Juna walked close enough that her shoulder brushed Hajin’s arm every few steps, her ears still tuned to every sound around them.

He glanced back once at the hallway leading to the rooms they had stayed in, then forward again.

"That was a lot of pressure," Didi said quietly once they were far enough from the dining hall. "I am sorry. He does that sometimes, making everything sound like the fate of the kingdom depends on one person."

"It kind of does," he replied, his hand resting against his pocket where the letters sat. "At least for his reputation."

Didi slowed her pace, looking at him with an expression that was more serious than he expected.

"You meant what you said? That you will pass?"

He thought about the monster in the forest, the knights it had killed, and the way his ring had felt when he wrapped the chains around the demonic boar. He thought about Juna waiting in the resting state, about the viewers watching from another world, about the Goddess fragment in his chest that wanted him to grow stronger.

"Yeah," he said. "I meant it."

Didi studied his face for a second longer, then nodded.

"Good," she said, turning forward again. "Because the evaluation is in three days, and the guild master is not someone who accepts excuses."

He stopped walking, "three days?"

Didi kept moving, glancing back at him with a faint smile that looked a little too pleased with itself.

"You did not think he would give you time to relax, did you?"