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15.78% The Summoner Mage gets Rich Summoning Mythic Level Demons / Chapter 3: Blind Ladies and Demons

Bab 3: Blind Ladies and Demons

I awoke in a bed. To my left was a window. To my right was a desk. 

Outside the window was a grassy plain and a hill. Atop the hill was a tree with branches that craved the skies above. It was morning so the sun was barely over the horizon.

I sat up and went to the desk. Leaning against it was a stick, tall and slender. At its head, there was a ribbon tied a few inches below the silver figurine at its head. The bulb was like a flower, its petals closed around its stamen.

Rotating the staff in my hand, the chrystalline flower reflected everything around me as well as outside the cabin. The blue sky outside, the green plains, the white tree, the white sheets and pillow of my bed, the red wood of my bed frame and desk, the green robes I slept in, the tan walls and ceiling. Everything reflected off the flower's surface.

The staff was made of wood which was as black as night. The ribbon, which hung a few inches over the staff's handle, was as red as the iris of the giant in my dream.

"Demiurge." When I said the god's name aloud, the staff pulsed. The petals on it blossomed, revealing the runes written on its inner petals. Something told me this was a gift from god. "This could go for a few hundred gold at least!"

The petals shriveled when i said that. I got the sense it was sentient, aware of what I was saying. 

Leaning the staff against the desk, I studied the book that was open on my desk. The page it was open to was blank until I touched the pages inside it. Black words of swirling letter and depictions of well drawn beasts manifested on the cream white pages. The book must have had over two hundred pages and each page was full from cover to cover.

The book's title was written in the familiar red of Demiurge's eye, hinting at where this book had come from. The words, "Summon's of Demiurge" were written in a stylistic font that sunk into the black background of the book's cover.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. My cabin was so small, the foot of my bed was a few feet from the door!

Grabbing the staff, I crept to the door.

A voice came from the other side, pleading in a whine that made me feel bad. It was an old woman who I could imagine was shriveled and hunched from decades of life. 

"Please, help us, great alchemist!" the old woman begged. "Our village is in need of your protection!"

Great alchemist? Protection? 

The only spells I knew in my past life were sealing spells and summoning magic. And those spells barely protected me in a fight. How did this lady expect me to save her village!

"Please, great wizard! We desperately need your help!"

I flung my door open, hiding the staff behind me. 

There was an old woman at the door, exactly as I imagined her. Her posture was poor, and her hair was as gray as storm clouds. Wrinkles blossomed from her eyes, covering face and reaching her bony knuckles. The lady's eyes were milk white, and she barely looked at me as I stepped in front of her. 

"Is that you, great wizard?" the blind woman asked.

"How can I help you, ma'am?"

"It is our village," she answered. She pointed to pillars of smoke rising over the hill. "Demons attacked us at sunrise. They've been destroying our homes for the last hour." her voice wavered on that last part. I noticed a black smudge that stained her cheek. 

The old lady fumbled for my hand, begging me to save her village. "Please?" She raised her white eyes to mine, tears flowing from them.

I opened my mouth to tell her I was not the great wizard she was looking for. I was a lowly student of the arcane. A weak summoner who could barely summon a water spirit. I wanted to tell this woman that I could not help her, even if I had a team of wizards with me, I'd be of no use to her village.

The staff that I held behind my back rattled. The flower had blossomed fully. The reflection of the blue sky and the lady's clothes reflecting off it. Even her shadow was reflected, though the dark silhouette was distorted into a monstrous form, shown in the flower's reflection.

The lady gasped. "Is that the Thorn of Kabbalah?" Slowly, she guided her hands to the staff's flower. Her reflection was warped, making her fingers look gnarled and inhuman. Each finger looked as black as night as it clawed for the staff. The staff jerked backwards in my hand to avoid being touched. I swore I saw the woman smile mischievously as it did.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. But I have no clue what this is,'' I gestured to the staff, "Or anything about this wizard. I'm just a summoner. And barely a good one."

The lady never took her gaze off the staff. 

How can she see it if he's blind? 

"A summoner you say?" she licked her lips. "I hear all summoners are weak. And yet…" she reached for the staff again, this time I jerked the staff out of her grasp. The ribbon danced in the air.

Anxiety crept from my stomach to my throat. A cold heat radiated just under my lungs making each breath labored. I was afraid of something. 

Why is this old lady so adamant about touching the staff of whatever she called it?

I stared at the staff. The shadow still reflected a grotesque reflection that did not match the old woman's. But then I noticed that my reflection was normal. My brown skin and red robes were the same as the ones in the reflection. 

A word flashed in the air in front of me in red letters. 

"Danger."

A second message hovered in front of my face.

"Demon presence located. You have one option: 

Run."

Beside me, a demonic hand slashed out at me. Its nails were as sharp as daggers. Air whistled off of them as I could only stare at the hand that slashed at me.


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