Awakening with two legendary Summons
Chapter 114: Summoner’s war 13 duo

Chapter 114: Summoner’s war 13 duo

The Abyssal Ranked beast crouched low, its enormous limbs bending until its knuckles scraped the ground. Its face seemed to bow—almost in reverence or calculation—before it lunged forward with terrifying speed, aiming its gaping jaws at Shia’s neck.

It was a swift and precise strike—one far too fast for any ordinary person to dodge.

The attack landed. Or so it seemed.

However, in that same split second, something unexplainable occurred. A mysterious switch had taken place—so rapid that even the beast, with all its heightened senses, couldn’t comprehend it. Where it expected flesh and bone, it tasted only air and dust. Its powerful momentum caused it to slam onto the ground, and it skidded forward violently, its snarling fangs closing around nothing but the scattered debris.

At that moment, the creature hesitated. It froze, momentarily questioning the reliability of its senses. Had they failed it?

It shook its massive head erratically, clearing the daze, trying to regain focus. Then, it caught it—the strong, unmistakable scent of its target. The scent of Shia.

Its glowing red eyes turned sharply.

She was behind it.

Breathing heavily, a few scratches across her face, her eyes burned with a fierce light.

Shia had managed to escape.

And that was no ordinary escape.

Shia possessed one of the most feared ability types in the world of summoners—Energy Manipulation. But even among the rarest abilities, there was one far more terrifying than all: the Illusion Ability. It was the ability that blurred the boundaries between reality and imagination, allowing its wielder to twist perception to their will.

At full strength, Shia was nearly untouchable.

Ravin knew this well. That’s why he had chosen this moment—this battlefield—for the attack. He had anticipated the possibility of things going awry.

And so, he had sent the Nyxaris.

Now, at the moment of Shia’s weakness—wounded, drained of mana, her breathing shallow—this was the perfect time to strike her down.

From every corner of the ruined battlefield, forms emerged—towering mythic-type beasts snarling with hatred, and Nyxaris warriors with burning eyes. Among them was the bulky one, the one in command. Scars marked their bodies—residue from the attack Shia had unleashed earlier—but nothing fatal. They were injured, yes, but still very much alive. Very much dangerous.

Shia, now surrounded, swallowed hard.

Her limbs trembled, her lungs screamed for rest, and her mana reserves were drained to the dregs. She could no longer shift matter or conjure a powerful spell. Every instinct screamed for her to collapse, to close her eyes, and give in.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she forced herself to breathe slowly, to think clearly, to stand.

"You lose. Ravin was right," the leader of the Nyxaris boomed from across the field. His voice echoed with pride, and the smugness behind his words was thick enough to cut with a blade. He had already decided the outcome of the battle. His tone made that clear.

But Shia wasn’t going to let him write her ending.

She grunted through clenched teeth, blood dripping from her lip as she raised her right arm high into the air, trembling as she clenched it into a fist.

"We had a treaty..." she shouted, her voice sharp with fury and conviction. "And you dare reignite war with this?! I’ll survive this... and I’ll prove it to your race—they are nothing beneath my feet."

The battlefield fell quiet for a moment.

She stood, battered and bloodied, her body barely able to support itself, but her spirit unbroken. Her left leg shifted in front of the other, planting itself firmly into the dirt. She assumed a stance—imperfect, unstable—but a stance of defiance nonetheless.

And that was all it took.

The Abyssal Ranked beasts that had remained at a distance sensed danger. They moved instantly, charging at her, believing she was preparing a final strike—one they had to stop before it landed.

But as they came closer, they slowed.

Something was wrong.

This wasn’t an attack.

This wasn’t her.

Their instincts, so finely tuned to death and survival, screamed that they had walked into someone else’s trap.

And then—they saw it.

The clouds above turned darker in an instant, an unnatural darkness that blanketed the battlefield like a looming omen. The pressure in the air shifted, thick and heavy like a storm about to break.

But it wasn’t rain that came.

It was lightning.

A sudden blue light flashed from the heavens—brighter than the sun—followed by a deafening crack as colossal streaks of lightning fell like divine punishment.

Three Abyssal Ranked beasts were struck instantly.

They didn’t even have time to scream.

They were burned to ash, disintegrated by the raw, unrelenting power of the attack.

The battlefield shook. Dust erupted. Eyes squinted, blinded by the light, and hearts froze.

"What the hell is this?" the Nyxaris commander muttered, stunned, his dominant expression faltering.

The lightning didn’t stop. It circled Shia, forming a protective halo of destruction, lashing out at any enemy that dared step close. Whoever had set this trap wasn’t just powerful—they were watching, calculating, controlling the battlefield from afar with terrifying precision.

Only someone powerful could launch such a focused, unyielding assault.

They didn’t have to wonder long.

The skies roared once more as a large summon descended—a massive creature with wings like jagged blades of silver metal. It landed with a sharp gust of wind and dust.

Upon its back stood Zhendeya—armor-clad, elegant, and radiant with power.

"Hope I wasn’t too late," she said, turning to Shia with a calm smile.

Shia, relieved beyond words, returned the smile weakly and dropped to her bottom, exhausted. "Take care of the rest while I recover," she said, her voice hoarse, but laced with trust.

Zhendeya didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward, her gaze narrowing on the Nyxaris commander who had once exuded dominance. He now stared at her, calculating.

’A Grade Three... it’s been a while,’ she thought, eyes never leaving his.

Meanwhile;

In a massive white stadium—transported far from the battlefield—many students, merchants, workers, and soldiers now lay strewn across the floor, some groaning, some still, others upright but clearly in shock. The crowd buzzed with confusion and dread.

Shia’s ability had teleported them here. A desperate act to save lives.

Amid the chaos, a man stood alone, apart from the panic. A dark hat shaded his face, but not enough to hide the sinister grin that curled across his lips.

He was Ravin Elteth.

"It’s all going smoothly."