Thinking about the summon was enough to trigger it.
The portal flared to life, reacting instantly to my intent. A surge of energy pulsed outward as the familiar blinding blue light exploded from the centre. The air crackled with power, and both Alvin and Thorn instinctively turned their heads away, shielding their eyes from the radiance.
I didn't flinch.
By now, I was used to the intensity. The blinding light, the vibrating ground, the low hum in my bones—it was all familiar. Predictable.
What I wasn't expecting was what came next.
I'd prepared myself for another disappointment. Another weakling. The last few summons had been barely passable—useful in the short term, but forgettable in the long run. That's why my expectations were set low.
But this…
This was different.
The light began to dim, and as the glow receded, a towering silhouette remained standing in the centre of the portal. Massive. Solid. The ground gave a subtle groan beneath its weight.
Then the figure stepped forward.
Its shoulders were broad, nearly twice the width of Alvin's. Heavy footsteps thudded against the dirt with each stride. A beast of a humanoid, wrapped in crude iron armour and carrying a weapon that looked more like a slab of steel than a sword.
My eyes narrowed as I took in the figure's presence. His face was hidden beneath a worn helmet, and faint steam drifted from his mouth as he exhaled. There was weight to it—not just physical, but something else. A presence. A pressure.
This… wasn't another throwaway summon.
This one was different.
My interest was fully captured.
And finally, something resembling a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
Maybe tonight wouldn't be a waste after all.
I stared, stunned, at the towering figure that had emerged from the portal.
He was a monster of a man—no, not just a man. Something else. Something more. Standing well over twelve feet tall, his sheer size dwarfed everyone around him. His body was wrapped in worn metal plating, thick and dented from what looked like years of abuse. The armor wasn't decorative—it armourunctional, brutal. Like him.
Every step he took sent subtle vibrations through the dirt, and with each breath, wisps of steam hissed from his mouth, drifting into the night like smoke off a cooling forge. The air around him felt heavier now, like the space itself was reacting to his presence.
He stopped in front of the summoning stone, silent and unmoving.
His face, partially shadowed by the warped metal helmet resting above his brow, was scarred and weathered. One long gash ran down the left side of his cheek, slicing just beneath a cold, expressionless eye. If he was fazed by the summoning, he didn't show it. If he had questions, he didn't ask.
He just stood there, breathing slowly. Controlled. Patient.
I blinked, then immediately pulled up the system panel in front of me.
---
[Profile]
Name: Urvock Stoneborn
Job: Gladiator (Low)
HP: 300 / 300
MP: 60 / 60
STR: 32
VIT: 30
INT: 6
AGI: 15
Skills:(Stone Skin lvl 5)(Rage lvl 2)
(Power Strike lvl 4)
---
My breath caught for just a moment.
These numbers were insane. Strength and vitality both pushing into the thirties—this guy could probably tear a flame hound apart with his bare hands and walk away with scratches. He was built like a siege engine, and if his job title meant anything, it implied he wasn't just strong—he was trained to fight.
Gladiator.
Even the name had weight.
And while I didn't yet know what his skills did, I didn't need to—not yet. Just the levels alone spoke volumes. This wasn't like the weaklings I'd summoned before. This wasn't a throwaway. This was a real weapon.
And not just any weapon.
My weapon.
I felt a thrill crawl down my spine, subtle and sharp. A step forward. A piece worth using. A soldier that might actually be ablewhokeep up.
Alvin and Thorn stood a few paces behind me, staring wide-eyed, saying nothing. For once, they had the sense to stay quiet.
I took a single step forward, stopping just short of Urvock's reach.
He didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
His breath remained steady, fogging in the air.
I looked up, craning my neck to meet his gaze. That eye of his locked onto mine with the calm indifference of someone who'd faced worse things than death.
I opened my mouth, the first words already forming.
I took one final step forward and looked up at the hulking figure that towered above us. His breath still came out in steady hisses of mist, his expression unreadable. But I could feel it an energy pulsing between us. Something like tension. Something like a test.
I raised my voice so that it would reach him clearly.
"I'm the one who summoned you," I said, my tone sharp, laced with certainty. "And that makes me your master."
The words echoed into the cool night air, bold and unflinching.
Urvock's head tilted slightly. A slow, deliberate motion. His gaze dropped to meet mine directly for the first time.
And then, he grunted.
It wasn't a sound of acceptance. It was low, rough, and dismissive.
"I only follow those stronger than me," he said, his voice deep and composed—calm, but filled with iron. It wasn't a threat. It was a law.
His eyes, like chips of old stone, narrowed slightly as he looked down at me, measuring something.
Behind me, Thorn flinched.
I didn't need to ask why.
Those words—"I only follow those stronger than me"—must've hit him like a cold blade. Not because he'd heard them before, but because he had once said something similar. When Thorn was first summoned, he'd tried to assert dominance over me. Thought he could be the one in charge. I still remember the look on his face when I nearly crushed his skull for it.
That memory clearly hadn't left him. His instincts told him what happened next might end the same way. The feathers was evident.
But me?
I didn'twereel fear.
I felt alive.
The corners of my mouth twitched.
Something about Urvock's response his challenge set something burning deep in my chest. It wasn't anger. It was something more dangerous. It was joy.
Finally… someone with a spine.
Someone who wouldn't grovel just because I summoned them. Someone with pride. Strength. Defiance.
I loved it.
It meant I wouldn't have to babysit him. If I could break him in—or better yet, prove myself to him—he'd be loyal in the way that actually mattered. Earned loyalty. Not forced.
My heart was pounding, but my voice was calm as I responded.
"Then I suppose you'll find out soon enough," I said, staring right into his eyes. "Whether I'm stronger or not."
His expression didn't change, but I noticed the way his fingers flexed slightly around the grip of his weapon. The tension wasn't gone. It was building.
And I welcomed it.