Lancet had done such a great job that by the end of the Territory War competition for the day, the other years couldn’t drag the Summoner Class Group down even if they tried.
Summoner-C managed to claim third position when Class Group-C competed, adding 1050 Tributes to the overall score. And Summoner-B ca out with a close second, nearly scraping to first. They contributed a total of 1500 Tributes.
By the end of the day’s competition, the scoreboard for the Territory War looked like this:
[ Summoners : 7250 ]
[ Elentalist : 5990 ]
[ Enchanters : 4700 ]
[ Specialists : 4560 ]
And, the overall leaderboard had Summoners in second place.
[ 1st - Elentalists ]
[ 2nd - Summoners ]
[ 3rd - Specialists ]
[ 4th - Enchanters ]
Lancet still felt pretty unhappy with Elentalists holding the top spot because regardless of who held it in the end, the Class Group that stayed on the top spot the longest would likely end up with the most Tribute allocations and rewards.
But with Elentalists only bridging the gap in power and functionality the higher the years, the Class Group seed bound once again to win the whole competition.
Even though Lancet could defeat the Elentalists in his year, the upper years couldn’t and now it seed like it was them who were letting down the juniors.
The idea of even creating a Summoner Heroine to put in one of the Class Groups to help them win even crossed Lancet’s mind.
But he was yet to handle the problem with his present Heroines, so adding a new one to the roster didn’t seem like the right idea just yet.
Lancet made his way to the back of the Enchanter-S faculty again. He had sohow made this place a personal hub for eting his Heroines. He used the two fallen trees as benches while the weeds and flowers spread around the place, giving it a little enchanting design.
Just a second ago, he’d been on cloud nine. Everyone was congratulating and thanking him. Ms Maecil seed like she wanted to thank him in "other" ways with the way she hugged him tightly, pressing his chest into her softer ones.
But now, it was ti for him to face the wrath of his lovely, legendary Heroines.
After weeks of not being summoned, Astensia and Thor needed an explanation. Even worse, Lancet had not summoned Astensia ever since that ti in the infirmary when they had sex for the first ti.
He hadn’t intentionally avoided her. The sequence of events was strange. After that day, training for the Inter-Class Competitions began so days later and Lancet felt like summoning her in the middle of training with other students was not a good move.
And when the Grace Channels issues started, he feared that she could just vanish if he summoned her and that would be awkward. So he didn’t risk summoning her. It was the sa reason he had summoned Spectra during the Dungeon Raid.
By the way, shouldn’t Spectra have told them the reason why he wasn’t summoning them?
Lancet narrowed his eyes as he sat on the tree truck. ’That maniacal demoness!’
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, extending one harm, he activated his calling skill; "Summon."
A pillar of gold light fell, lightning struck the ground, and red devilish smoke exploded by the side. After each of the displays, three beautiful, powerful won stood in front of Lancet, glaring down at him.
Lancet gulped. ’Feels like a wet dream but scarier.’
"Ah," Spectra was the first to speak up, smiling knowingly as she looked around. "This place again. You could not be any more attached if you tried, Lancet."
Lancet gave a wry smile. "Hey guys."
Astensia didn’t smile. Her expression remained rigid, her knightly stoicism perfectly intact, and beneath her gleaming winged helm, her brilliant golden eyes showed how conflicted she was; she was happy to reunite with Lancet, but furious that he had neglected after that day.
After what they did.
Beside her, Thor crossed her heavy, armored arms over her chest. Her foot tapped against the grass, a rhythmic thud-thud-thud that caused tiny, frustrated sparks of electricity to snap against her greaves. Her brow was furrowed into a classic, thunderous scowl.
"Well, Master Lancet," Thor started. "We almost thought you would chicken out."
Lancet raised his shoulders. "I told you I’d summon you later. I’m not going to lie to you."
"It seems not," the Heroine of Thunder narrowed her eyes. "But what you would do is keep us locked away in that empty void for weeks without a single word, only to drag us in the middle of a childish competition."
Lancet took a deep breath. "Co on guys. Let’s sit first." He gestured toward the second fallen tree that sat directly opposite him like a rustic bench
Spectra smiled, clearly enjoying herself, as she took a seat.
Astensia didn’t sit down imdiately, her hand resting firmly on the poml of her greatsword as she watched him.
"Astensia?" Lancet said gently to her. "Please. I know you’re both angry, and you have every right to be. But I didn’t abandon you. I literally couldn’t call you."
Astensia’s posture softened by a fraction, the heavy tension in her shoulders dipping as she carefully lowered herself onto the log. Thor let out a loud, aggressive huff, but she followed suit, slamming her weight down onto the wood with a loud clank of her armor.
Spectra sloped over to the edge of the log, draping herself over the wood. She placed one leg over the other and bounced it playfully.
"What do you an you couldn’t call us?" Astensia asked, her voice sounding vulnerable and a little nervous. "After the infirmary... I waited for us to talk again but you never called . For weeks. I feared I had done sothing to displease you."
"Never," Lancet said imdiately, locking his eyes with hers to ensure she felt the absolute sincerity in his voice. "The tiline of events went completely sideways. Do you rember the last ti I tried to summon you in the training halls, Thor? After the competitions were announced?"
Thor’s eyes narrowed as she recalled the mory. "You called for a fraction of a second. I felt the tether snap, and then I was sent back into your Summon Space. I assud you were just being careless."
"I wasn’t," Lancet sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn’t the one who sent you back. It was just that my Grace... it disconnected."
Astensia’s and Thor’s head raised, eyes lighting up with curiosity. "What?"
"Yeah. It was a really strange feeling then so I went to check my status and discovered that my Soul Core was infected, and my Grace Channels were fracturing into pieces under the pressure of my own magic."
Astensia and Thor glanced at each other then at Lancet. It looked like all their confrontational energy dissolved in that instant. Astensia leaned forward, her golden eyes widening slightly. Thor’s foot stopped tapping with her foot.
"Fractured?" Astensia murmured, her voice laced with sudden worry. "How? When did this happen?"
"It happened during the raid in Hebthej," Lancet explained. "When I was struck directly by a Gloom Spear."
"But the healer," Thor whispered. "She cured you, didn’t she?"
"Well, technically yes," Lancet replied. "She healed from the wound and stabilized my vitals. But not for an infection because the Gloom poison had already festered into my core."
Astensia’s brows tipped into her helm, the worry in her eyes was too evident.
"The poisoning didn’t show up on the surface scans," Lancet continued. "It just secretly spread through my magic body over the course of a week. By the ti training started, the infection had rotted my channels from the inside out. Every ti I tried to cast a Skill or summon any of you, my Grace would leak through the cracks in my channels, causing the magic to sputter and turn off."
There was silence for a mont.
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