The next morning... *Knock, knock, knock.* The sound pierced through Ryder's sleep with annoying intensity, dragging him from the depths of unconsciousness where he'd been reliving his encounter with Hollow and the Dracogon for the third time that night. His eyes snapped open, adjusting instantly to the morning light streaming through the window. "Ryder?" his mother's voice drifted from downstairs, tinged with concern. "Are you expecting someone?" He wasn't. In fact, the last thing he wanted was visitors. After yesterday's emotional moment with his parents and the realization that his life had changed forever, he'd been hoping for at least one quiet morning to process everything. Besides, he never really had someone he could call a friend. Dragging himself out of bed, Ryder caught his reflection in the small mirror by his dresser and nearly jumped. His white hair had gained a striking contrast, as if it had its own inner light, and his pupils had become blood red. His appearan

It wasn't too hard for Ryder to find his way home. With his extraordinary jumps, he got to his village faster than he would have imagined. Each leap carried him dozens of meters through the air, his enhanced body moving with a swiftness that would have amazed him. But now, all he could think about was the smoking ruins of the FSG base behind him and Lucian's accusing scream. Upon reaching the village, he sighed and relaxed his shoulders while lazily walking through the bush path. He wasn't tired physically—his enhanced stamina meant he could probably run for hours without breaking a sweat—but he was mentally exhausted in a way that went beyond ordinary fatigue. He was overthinking once again, like in the past, whenever he got into a mess. But this wasn't just some minor failed exam or something along those lines—this was something that would most likely ruin his life. The explosion at the FSG base would have consequences, and he knew it. The government wouldn't just let this slide

Luxy was still stunned by the view of the city. He had lived most of his life in the Dracogon Plain, which was nothing but a mere wasteland—a barren expanse of cracked surface, where the horizon stretched endlessly into a vast, dry land. The most exciting thing that happened there was when the occasional dust devil whirled across the plains, kicking up dirt that would find its way into the makeshift shelter of the dwellers of the plain. Even the vegetation seemed to have given up, and insect familiars had no option but to build their homes from either rock or dead plants, with only the most stubborn of shrubs managing to sustain their life in that deserted corner of the plain. The city right before them looked like an imaginary painting come to life... At least to Ryder. Towering structures of glass and steel reached toward the heavens, their surfaces reflecting the sunlight in dazzling patterns. The streets below teemed with life—people bustling about their daily routines, vehicle

"If I go all out and kill this familiar, then what?" Ryder questioned. "Well, if you kill a familiar, then it will die for good, and there'll be no way to revive it." Ryder rolled his eyes. "You're right. That's generally what 'killing' means." "Familiars are dwellers of the Astral Shadow Plane. The Astral Shadow Plane is a plane for partially dead creatures. When some creatures die, their souls instantly travel to the dead domain, but others don't, and their souls get transferred to the Astral Shadow Plane. Death has one beginning and one end, but what lies in-between differs," Luxy explained, his tone taking on that professorial quality that made Ryder picture him wearing tiny spectacles and suits. "The Astral Shadow Plane makes creatures half alive and half dead. With that state of existence, they can either visit the living or the dead plane at will, if a contract is being made." Swoosh! Ryder tilted his body to the side, narrowly dodging another swipe of the creature's for

Normally, when a human receives a mark of invitation to the Astral Shadow plain, the mark is shapeless, resembling a scar. It is an ugly-looking, twisted thing that appears somewhere on their body all of a sudden—simply there one morning when the newly marked person wakes. It mostly appears on the shoulder alone, for single familiar bearers, that is. New bearers of the mark might mistake it for perhaps a strange bruise from sleeping awkwardly. But, due to how widespread the summoning mark is and how summoners populate the entirety of planet Terra, it does not appear as foreign as it would have. Everyone, including those familiar with the ways of summoners and those who have partaken in any practical aspect of summoning, recognizes it for what it truly is: an invitation to power beyond human comprehension. The marks vary in color—some blood red, others brown, a few with an orange marking. Tang Fan's had been a deep red, so dark it seemed to absorb the light from everywhere, located