Chapter 8: Unsummoning attempt (3)
Claire was still dazed and confused from her abrupt summoning into this game-like world.
She didn’t understand anything.
One moment, everything was fine, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
And then the next... a freaking giant, crazy dude with blazing red hair scorched the entire ground with fire!
Claire wanted to run. She really did. But for some reason, her body wouldn’t move. Fear gripped her like a vice, freezing her in place. Her tail bristled, and her heart pounded like a drum—three hundred beats per minute.
Luckily, the flames from that guy’s spell didn’t actually hurt her.
Sure, it singed a bit of her fur, and yeah, that was not cool, but overall, she was fine.
The crazy burning motherfucker then walked right past her, crouched beside the summoning circle, and muttered something about Albinite Shard Dust...
Then immediately got into an argument with his wife.
Wait... I can understand these people?
Claire was shocked.
The language wasn’t anything she recognized—not English, not French—but somehow, she could clearly understand every word they said!ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ɴo(v)elFɪre.ɴet
And being the genius gamer she was, Claire was able to quickly put two and two together.
Apparently, the pretty white-haired girl over there had just summoned her.
Claire recognized the beast-taming mark faintly glowing on the girl’s forehead. It wasn’t fully formed yet, but even now, Claire could feel a subtle tug, a connection to her master.
Judging by appearances, she was likely a Silvervein—one of the most highly regarded Beast Tamer clans in all of Arventia.
And from the sound of things, someone had tampered with her summon using Albinite Shard—a material known for its magic-disrupting properties.
Damn... this isn’t looking good...
Claire spaced out for a moment, her mind racing as she tried to process what she should do next. But before she could come to any decision, her master was suddenly pulled out of the summoning circle.
Then the red-haired guy summoned something from his dimensional inventory—something weird.
A black dagger, radiating a straight-up ominous aura.
And right then, her master broke down crying, screaming, begging!
Wait! What the fuck is going on?!
Claire stared at the man, then at the dagger.
Her fur stood on end, a chill ran down her spine.
The man began to approach, slowly, the dagger gleaming under the light.
And that’s when Claire realized...
FUCKED!!!
I’M SO FUCKED!
I NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!
"MEEEEEEOOOOWWW!!"
She screamed! And bolted!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
At this rate, I’M GONNA FUCKING DIE!
Because that...
THAT’S THE FREAKING DAGGER OF SEVERANCE!!!
Claire recognized it now!
In Arventia Online , there had been a rare item called the Dagger of Severance, used by players to unsummon their magical beasts and try out new ones. Because after all, there was hundreds of different kinds of magical beasts, yet a character was only allowed to use a limited number at a time!
But here...
In ’real life’...
"Unsummon" could mean literally that: returning to the Goddess of Magical Beasts.
But it could also mean— DEATH .
And that was not a chance Claire was willing to take.
COME ON!
I already died once—I don’t want to die again!
I just arrived in the world of my favorite game!
FUCKKK!!!
And so, even though she had no idea how to run with four legs yet, she ran!
Her limbs skittered awkwardly, like a kitty on roller skates. She stumbled, rolled once, and hit her face hard, but she didn’t stop.
It hurt like hell, but she scrambled back up and kept going!
However...
Claire didn’t get more than five meters before—
BOOOOM!
A wall of fire blazed up in front of her, cutting off her escape.
__________________
Draco was faster.
He raised a hand—and BOOM—a wall of fire exploded to life, encircling the summoning circle in a blazing inferno.
The noctifelis shrieked, its panicked cry echoing through the hall as it skidded to a stop, flames cutting off any path of escape.
It recoiled in terror, fur bristling, ears flat, body trembling.
Then, without a word, Draco stepped forward and reached down.
His hand clamped around the nape of the cat’s neck.
The noctifelis hissed, claws flailing wildly, trying to scratch, to bite, to do anything—but it was no match for the brute strength of the towering man.
Its small body writhed in his grip, twisting in vain, helpless.
Draco then pressed its body down with one arm, pinning it firmly onto the floor.
Its limbs flailed. Its tail thrashed. Tiny claws scraped against the marble, searching for a grip, for a way out.
There was none.
With his other hand, Draco raised the dagger.
The black, curved blade gleamed under the firelight.
And then.. it began to descend.
Everyone in the chamber turned away, unwilling to witness the brutal act.
Emilia, meanwhile, was still screaming at the top of her lungs.
But then—
Just as the dagger reached half a centimeter from the noctifelis’s heart, someone intervened.
"STOP!"
A hand grabbed Draco’s arm, halting the strike mid-air.
It was none other than Elmandir.
He stood firm, gripping Draco’s arm with all his strength, voice shaking.
"The beast has a special skill," he said. "If you kill it now... you’ll be killing your own daughter!"