Summoned Celestial Divine Beast

Chapter V: A Fracture in Still Waters

Chapter V: A Fracture in Still Waters

“Franca… I mean—sorry, is it okay to address you by name like that?” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.

“You may refer to me or any contracted familiar by name, unless there is an explicit pact demanding otherwise,” Franca replied with a soft, melodic calm in her voice that soothed the air around them like a warm breeze through autumn leaves.

“Oh, that’s good to know then. Franca… is there such a thing as marriage between a human and a familiar?” Ryan asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

“There are such unions,” she confirmed without hesitation. “Though, biologically speaking, reproduction between our races is impossible. The lineage ends with us.”

“Oh.” Ryan’s shoulders slackened, unsure if he should feel disappointed or relieved. “That might’ve been a strange question. I just… well, I couldn’t help myself when I saw someone so stunning.”

“Fufu… I appreciate the compliment.” Franca’s laugh sparkled like silver bells, her presence brightening the very air. “Still, I must say, it’s shocking that Lady Pearl accepted a disciple. She’s turned away countless petitioners. The fact she chose you means you possess something rare—cherish it. But remember, respect is earned, not inherited. You may carry her name, but you must forge your own weight in this academy. Understood?”

Ryan stood straighter, her words settling heavily on his shoulders. “Yes. I understand. In that case, do you mind if I ask a few more things?”

“Ask what you will. I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

Thus began a quiet stream of questions—mundane ones at that. Ryan was careful, tactful. He couldn’t risk dropping hints of his otherworldly origins. But even these minor details were slowly stitching together the framework of this strange realm he’d been hurled into.

Beneath the shade of a crimson-leafed illuma tree at the main entrance of Kuma Academy, Chaollete Ashley sat cross-legged, nose buried deep in a bound volume of vampire war chronicles. She was the same pale, composed student who had sat beside Ryan during the aptitude assessment.

The rustle of approaching footsteps and an oddly familiar voice drifted through the branches.

“So that’s how it works, huh.”

She glanced up. Her scarlet eyes fixed on Ryan—walking side-by-side with an elf.

‘The one who summoned the wolf,’ she mused inwardly, her expression unreadable. ‘Now walking beside an elf… how?’

She recalled witnessing a teacher escort Ryan away after the test. And now he emerged, not alone, but accompanied by what was unmistakably a summoned familiar of elven descent.

‘So he made it in? His aptitude must have been trash… so did he get in with his intellect? Or… something else?’

As they drew nearer, her sharp hearing picked up fragments of their discussion.

“By the way, what exactly do you mean by a familiar’s quality?”

“Quality?” Ryan blinked, puzzled. Franca smiled and nodded.

“Yes. Once you’ve formed a summoner’s pact, you should have access to a projection screen of dioki flow—showing details of your familiars: name, level, race, and quality.”

“Oh! Could you go deeper into each one?”

“Of course. Name and race are mostly for classification, though some rituals reference them. Level reflects power growth—essential to our survival. Lady Pearl should have told you why we answer your summons, yes?”

“She did. It’s about getting stronger.”

“Exactly. We strengthen ourselves by defeating enemies and extracting their mana cores. This world is half-drowned in alien filth—each of those abominations houses a dioki core. When we shatter them and consume their essence, we grow.”

“And evolution?” Ryan pressed, sensing a deeper path.

“That’s the other method. Evolution transforms the familiar’s very race. For example, I am a forest elf, but with enough energy, I can evolve into a high elf. That’s what Lady Pearl meant when she spoke of extensive resources—rare catalysts, bloodstones, and focused leyline baptisms.”

“So, to summarize: cores increase level; evolution changes race?”

“Precisely. And you’re catching on quickly.” Franca gave him a pleased nod. “Now, as for quality—this is the true measure of a familiar’s potential. There are four grades: Basic, Good, Excellent, and Perfect. Each is split into three tiers—low, mid, and high. A higher quality allows a familiar to absorb dioki with greater efficiency.”

Ryan’s eyes lowered as he mulled over the implications. ‘Sphinx… he’s supposed to be a divine beast, but right now, he’s low-tier Basic. Is this the same Sphinx I know? Or is he in some sort of larval stage?’

His mind spiraled through possibilities. ‘If it’s all about energy density… maybe I can pour more dioki into him. Would that force growth?’

He asked aloud, “Franca, is it possible to funnel more dioki into a familiar manually? Could that make them stronger?”

“That’s an insightful question. The theory exists, and mages have tried—but so far, there’s been no success,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I see.” Ryan exhaled, masking his frustration. ‘But Sphinx isn’t a standard familiar… he’s divine. I’ll keep feeding him until he forces the world to acknowledge him.’

“Still,” Franca said with a small grin, “I believe you’ll become powerful. There’s a fire in your questions.”

“Thank you,” Ryan replied with a soft smile. ‘This world is my new stage. I’ve found a safe harbor to build my power. I’ll move boldly, but not foolishly—I’ve died once. I won’t die stupid.’

His thoughts spiraled further. ‘If this plays out like any of those goddamn cultivation novels, then next comes a practical combat class… maybe some upperclassman decides to act like a cunt and try to bully me… or I’ll get challenged by some arrogant rich brat. Either way, I’ve got maybe a week to prepare.’

He didn’t get that week.

Franca’s gaze sharpened abruptly. Her whole frame tensed like a drawn bow.

“What is it?” Ryan asked, but she was already moving.

She turned toward the academy’s iron-gated arch. A black tide was pouring through it—more than twenty figures, all clad in dark wrappings with only their eyes visible beneath thick hoods.

“Oi! Stop there!” The academy’s perimeter guards barked, calling forth their familiars—an iron-scaled orc and a blade-wielding kobold.

They didn’t last a breath. In the blink of an eye, hooded intruders moved with impossible speed, slicing the guards down with weapons that shimmered with poisonous violet runes.

“Targets confirmed! Seize the students!”

Franca leapt forward, placing herself between Ryan and the oncoming threat. Her sharp gaze spotted a tattoo of a spider etched onto one assailant’s neck.

“Back up. They’re terrorists. Trained assassins.”

Ryan’s heart skipped. This wasn’t some schoolyard rivalry. The air itself thickened, tasting of ash and blood. The scent of burning runes, the whine of summoned energy, the pulse of incoming death—it all surged at once.

‘What the actual fuck… I didn’t even make it through a single peaceful day. This world has no chill.’

This day had started with curiosity. It would end in blood.

And Ryan, whether he liked it or not, was now in the deep end of Kuma Academy.