Awakening with two legendary Summons
Chapter 135: Summoner General

Chapter 135: Summoner General

Shia grunted as she forced herself to stand, her muscles aching with every motion. Blood trickled from a gash on her brow, and pain throbbed in her side, but she paid it no mind. Gritting her teeth, she climbed up onto the platform, her boots scraping against the cracked metal, and fixed her burning gaze on the Evolved Nyxaris.

The hulking creature stood eerily still, its grotesque form towering above the battlefield. Its eyes—if they could still be called that—glowed a muted red as it scanned its surroundings, its head twitching unnaturally from side to side. It looked... lost, as if trying to decide who or what to kill next.

Shia narrowed her eyes, studying the monster’s posture. Its evolution had amplified its size and strength, but at a cost. The way it moved, the aimless shifting of its head—it had clearly lost much of its higher intelligence in the transformation. That kind of regression could only mean one thing.

’Yes... there’s still hope to win this,’ Shia thought, her chest rising and falling as she turned her gaze to Zhendeya, who was still slumped against the wall from the Nyxaris’ earlier onslaught.

Shia’s eyes shifted back to the creature. Its vacant stare suddenly locked onto her, and something in the air shifted—tension tightening like a drawn bowstring.

It had found its next target.

Shia clenched both fists, focusing every ounce of her will into her stance. She couldn’t afford another hit like the last. Her body was bruised and battered, not fully recovered from the first round, and one more direct blow could end her.

She waited, her breath steadying, every nerve in her body bracing for the charge.

The Nyxaris let out a guttural growl and lunged at her, its massive claws cutting through the air like scythes. It moved with savage resolve, its body crashing forward with the fury of a beast that knew nothing but destruction.

But this time—Shia was ready.

"Echo Walk!" she called out, and in the blink of an eye, her figure vanished from its path.

She reappeared behind the Nyxaris in a sudden burst of motion, her silhouette slicing through the air like a shadow reborn. In that split second, she saw her opening—a blind spot exposed by its reckless charge.

Without hesitation, she drove her fist into the back of its hindquarters with all the might her body could muster. A sickening crunch echoed through the air, followed by a distorted howl from the Nyxaris. The sheer force of her punch hurled the monstrous figure through the air, its body tumbling like a ragdoll until it collided with a wall in the distance. The impact was deafening—the structure collapsed in a cloud of dust and rubble, burying the creature momentarily beneath it.

"Strong... but stupid," Shia muttered, her breath ragged. She staggered slightly before regaining her balance, exhaling deeply as she centered herself. Slowly, steadily, she began to breathe in rhythmic patterns.

Darkness rippled across her skin.

Like an ancient ritual, the transformation began—thick, obsidian-hued scales emerged and spread across her body, clinging to her arms, her legs, her neck, and down to her feet. The armor-like appendages shimmered faintly under the flickering lights of the destroyed battlefield, each scale fitting together like a puzzle.

The only part left uncovered was her face—her human expression unshielded, still visible beneath the monstrous beauty of her evolved form.

She had thrown the Nyxaris that far not just to strike a blow, but to buy herself time—time to reach her highest integration. Now, she was ready. Now, the battlefield had been evened.

From the wreckage, a roar split the air—louder than before, angrier. The Nyxaris burst free from the rubble, its frame trembling with rage. Its glowing red eyes burned hotter now, its bloodlust fully awakened. It let out a deafening screech, and without warning, it charged again—but this time, there was a dangerous new light gleaming in its throat.

Its instincts had taken over completely.

As it barreled toward Shia, the Nyxaris threw open its maw. From deep within its throat, a searing red energy began to gather, pulsing violently. A moment later, the beam shot forth like a lance of fury, tearing through the air toward her.

It was fast. Too fast.

The ground beneath it withered from the heat. The sky seemed to split. Shia had only a moment to brace herself—

But she didn’t have to.

A beam of contrasting energy—a bright, cold white—raced in from the side and intercepted the red blast. The two attacks collided midair, the impact lighting up the space with a violent clash of force.

Shia turned her head slightly to see Zhendeya standing behind her, steady and focused, one arm extended forward.

Her energy was different. Calmer. Less forceful, but precise—measured.

Unlike the Nyxaris, Zhendeya didn’t fire a plasma attack. Her beam wasn’t about overwhelming power. It was absorption and Control.

He wasn’t fighting fire with fire—he was taming it.

The two beams clashed in a deadlock. Energy pulsed wildly in all directions, scorching the surroundings, but the Nyxaris’ beam began to waver as Zhendeya’s grew steadier.

Shia didn’t waste the opportunity.

She dashed forward at full speed, the wind howling past her. She reached the Nyxaris in seconds, propelled by the momentum of purpose and precision.

Her left arm lashed out, catching the Nyxaris by the throat before it could react. Its body convulsed, caught off-guard by the sheer strength of her grip.

With a growl of effort, Shia squeezed.

Hard.

A sickening crack echoed through the air as the creature’s neck snapped under the pressure, its entire body going limp. The red beam sputtered out like a dying flame, its energy dispersing into nothingness.

Silence fell.

The battlefield, once filled with chaos, now felt hauntingly still.

"We won," Shia whispered. But her voice carried no triumph—only uncertainty. "This was too easy."

Zhendeya lowered her hand, her gaze fixed on the corpse.

"I agree... An evolved Nyxaris of this level should have given us more trouble. Even with our highest integration, it was weak. Why would they risk a suicide mission like this?"

"Could it be Ravin Elteth’s doing?" She asked. "Did he plan all this to distract us?"

Shia didn’t answer.

Her usual playfulness was gone, drowned in a storm of guilt and dread. Something felt wrong. Deeply wrong. As if while they fought, something far more valuable had been stolen right from under their noses.

’During this distraction... the entire Base is vulnerable... exposed,’ she thought. ’The academy, the military sectors, the information rooms—none of them had the protection they needed.’

She turned to Zhendeya, her expression grim.

"I don’t know... but if they wanted something, I’m guessing they already have it. Right now, I need to reach the control room and relay commands to all military personnel."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heels and began walking, but her mind was fractured.

This was her fault.

She had allowed the festival. She had approved the event that gave the intruders their window of chaos. Students had died under her watch. An entire military base nearly crumbled because she failed to anticipate the enemy’s tactics.

One truth settled over her shoulders like a boulder she could no longer carry.

Shia Vantress would lose her place as head general for this failure—and deep down, she knew she deserved it.

And also she knew this may even by the slightest possibility be part of the plan of whoever attacked the academy.

Whoever that was.