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5.18% Spellcrafter's Demise / Chapter 9: A Failed Summoning?

Chapter 9: A Failed Summoning?

Back at the shrine.

Joff's hands trembled, the thin line of elementless magic emitted from them almost swaying off path. He had practiced for this for a long time- this summoning spell, that was. Summoning was the village's greatest secret, kept hidden from all outsiders.

The only visitors who traveled this deep into the northern woods were traders who came to do business with the villages scattered deep in the forest, so there was no one to take notice of the abundance of odd pets in the village.

Even with his nervousness and fear, his muscle memory was able to keep his hands on track.

The summoning formation in front of him wasn't the same as the one he had seen before. A few parts of the originally gentle and beautiful formation had been tweaked, giving off a sinister feeling.

This summoning formation's diagram had come in a letter, detailing everything needed for the ritual. It was the same letter that had warned them of their allies' betrayal, allowing the village to prepare defenses and hold off their foes.

Originally, the townsfolk had been furious, a natural reaction: A random letter with unknown origins, claiming that their allies were going to betray them, and detailing that the only way to survive was to sacrifice their own summons was sure to provoke the villagers' ire.

They wanted to ignore it… but then they noticed strange movements in the nearby city of Edain. Easthill soldiers were gathering slowly, trying to stay hidden from the villagers' eyes in order to launch a sneak attack.

The only logical conclusion was that the letter had to be from a traitor somewhere in the Easthill military.

The tweaked part of the formation in front of Joff began glowing, completing the first step of the modified summoning ritual.

The corpses of the livestock and summons began to fade, their energy being absorbed by the summoning formation. Soon, there was nothing left of the formation other than a dim red circle of runes glowing on the ground.

The second part of the summoning was finding an entity to bond with. With the original summoning formation, the summoner might ask for "a companion for traveling" or "a reliable friend," but the letter had instructed Joff to use more specific requests.

'Something specific… that can kill all these damn traitors.'

A memory ran through Joff's head, a memory of a story his father had told him as a child. A powerful, bloodthirsty species that lived for war. The story spoke of how they were humankind's long-term enemy, even today.

None of the villagers had ever seen one of these enemies, and it was unlikely any of the Easthill warriors had either.

The enemies Joff had thought of were the Western demons.

'I-If they're real… a demon can definitely kill these traitors.'

Joff's voice sounded in front of the summoning formation, not caring what he was about to bring into the world.

"I, Joff Hanson, summon a powerful demon."

Nothing happened. Joff thought for a moment, recalling the letter's instruction to be as specific as possible.

'I can't summon a weak demon. The summoning might consider a 'strong demon' to be one that is a good strategist, but I need something that can fight.'

"I summon the demon who has killed the most humans, by hand."

The summoning formation shook, locking into a target. A single demon had managed to surpass all others, killing over three thousand times physically with its own hands.

In a realm distant from Joff, a realm eternally covered in a dim red fog.

A red circle began forming under the figure of a demon, introducing a more vibrant light to the dim world.

Edol's eyes caught notice of the light, his eyes straining to focus despite the intense pain in his head.

The duo trapped in the red realm were still following Ugly's method of reducing pain- a quite unfortunate thing, as Ugly failed to notice the red circle in time.

Another earth spike pierced through Ugly's head, extinguishing the life from its eyes.

The red circle beneath it, having lost its target, began fading away into the ground, leaving the realm filled with death and earth spikes quiet once more.

The same happened in front of Joff. The summoning circle, after having locked onto its target… just disappeared.

"What?!? What is going on?"

It was unheard of for the summoning to fail after having locked onto a target.

"No! It can't fail now! Call summon! Call summon!"

Seemingly reacting to the boy's shouts, the red circle once again appeared below Ugly, but once again, the demon died before the summoning could be completed.

Tears welled up in Joff's eyes. Everyone he cared about, everything he had had been sacrificed for this summon… just for it to fail.

The boy crumpled to the ground, overtaken by despair. All that was left was death, and it was because of his own failure.

~~~~~

To the south, in the center of the destroyed village.

Another of Han's arrows cut through the air, finding a gap in the Easthill troop's defenses. Han had managed to whittle the original thirty men down to just sixteen remaining, dodging between the houses to avoid the enemy spells.

The soldiers were unable to approach Han, each that tried had been taken down by one of the three remaining villagers.

Kormac, the village blacksmith, was the main reason Han was still breathing. The mountain of a man had spent his whole life around weapons, and it was clear that he wasn't just good at crafting them.

A burst of fire spurted out from the ground beneath one of the enemies as the soldier advanced forwards, scorching the poor soldier's skin into an unrecognizable state.

The villagers had set up many traps, some in the form of fire magic land mines. Kormac's brother was the only fire legacy holder proficient enough to make these traps… but now he was dead, just like the rest of the villagers.

Kormac stepped forwards, swinging a massive ax as his eyes ignited with rage. The already severely injured, scorched soldier didn't have a chance to defend, and was cleaved in half by Kormac's weapon.

"Good work, brother. Step back, and get ready to take down another of these filth…"

A sorrowful whisper escaped from Kormac's mouth, a few tears escaping from his eyes.

A bit of terror shone in the remaining fifteen soldiers' eyes. Their original troop of one hundred men had been reduced to just fifteen by these untrained and meagerly armed villagers.

The villagers hadn't even given them a chance to stop and take a break- after the soldiers had defeated the village's main defenses using a barrage of magic, they tried to rest and recover.

Their lax attitude after having easily destroyed the villager's defense at the village gates had proven to be deadly, and they had lost more than fifteen warriors to a sneak attack by the remaining villagers.

The soldiers' legacies were long since exhausted, and every muscle in their bodies screamed at them to stop and take a break.

After a moment of hesitation, the current leader of the attackers held his hand upright.

This soldier was originally third in command of the squad, but after Han shot down the previous two, he was left in command.

"Retreat! Pull back and wait for reinforcements!"

The soldiers turned around, finding new energy as they retreated from the battlefield. The last day had been hell to them, watching as their companions were killed in all sorts of disgraceful ambushes by these cultist villagers.

Letting loose one last arrow at the fleeing men, a smile couldn't help but creep onto Han's face. He had lost almost everything- his friends, home, and even his summon, but they had defeated their enemy.

Now, there was a chance to escape and to rebuild. Sometime in the future, there would be a chance to take revenge for everything they lost.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
OakFlame OakFlame

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