Extra Survival Guide to Overpowering Hero and Villain
Chapter 34: Calia’s Spirit

Chapter 34: Calia’s Spirit

The energy in the room felt thick and unstable. Dangerous.

’Darkness and poison,’ Fenric thought. ’If she forms a bond with this one, she’ll follow a dual-element path. That’s a good fit for someone with an assassin-type class.’

He turned toward Calia and motioned at the pedestal where the core floated above a glowing circle of runes.

"Step forward," he told her. "Hold your hand above the core—but don’t touch it."

He handed her a scroll.

"Read this aloud. It will guide the Spirit’s summoning."

Calia looked over the scroll, reading it quickly and memorizing the chant.

Then, without hesitation, she walked calmly into the summoning circle.

The closer she got to the core, the colder the room became. The temperature noticeably dropped.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Then, she spoke clearly and confidently:

"I, Calia,

call forth a Spirit—

any soul tied to shadow, poison, or darkness.

If you hear me...

form a pact with me."

The runes flashed suddenly.

The sphere cracked.

And the summoning began.

The chamber shook as the ritual reached its climax.

A loud crack tore through the air—and from within the broken core, a sound echoed out. It was no cry of beast or man. It shook the circle like a storm, carrying a freezing wind and a poisonous mist.

From the shattered remains of the orb, something emerged.

It was massive.

A Wyvern—but not one anyone had ever seen before.

Its scales were black like obsidian, with glowing green veins running through them. Huge wings stretched wide, trailing shadows like torn cloaks. Its glowing green eyes stared directly at Calia with an intelligence far beyond a normal creature.

Every breath it took sent out a toxic mist.

Calia fell backward in fear, landing hard and staring at the beast with wide eyes.

Fenric’s voice came steady and firm.

"Don’t be afraid. Spirits won’t attack unless you provoke them."

"He came because you called. Stand up—and accept him."

Calia looked at Fenric. She took another breath, forced herself to her feet, though her legs were shaking badly.

The Wyvern hovered above her, then dove down like a living storm.

She didn’t flinch.

Just as it reached her, it stopped.

The runes burst into one final flare of light.

Without warning, the Wyvern shattered into streaks of darkness and light. They spiraled down into a single stream—and shot straight into Calia’s chest.

She cried out. Her body arched backward. The ground cracked under her.

A long silence followed.

Then... she breathed.

Dark mist curled around her feet. A spirit sigil appeared over her heart—twin wings wrapped around a fanged serpent’s skull.

Slowly, Calia raised her arms—and weapons appeared in her hands.

Twin daggers.

They hadn’t been forged—they had been born from the pact.

The hilts were wrapped in black leather, and the curved blades glowed with an eerie emerald light. Shadows spilled from the metal like smoke, and glowing runes ran along the edges.

Each blade gave off a deadly mix of poison and darkness.

Fenric’s eyes narrowed slightly, impressed.

"Dual Spirit Weapons," he murmured. "Spirits give two kinds of gifts—Spirit Magic or Spirit Armament. Yours gave you weapons."

He stepped closer, examining the daggers in her hands.

"That means your talent is focused on direct combat. These blades aren’t just tools—they’re a part of you now."

Then his tone shifted, curious.

"What are their names?"

Calia looked down at the weapons in her hands. Her grip was natural, and her face calm—like she had already accepted them completely.

"This one in my left hand," she said, lifting it slightly. "Is called Soul Piercer."

Then she raised the other, which glowed more intensely. "And this one... Blood Piercer."

Fenric raised one brow.

Calia’s voice remained steady as she explained:

"Soul Piercer only harms the soul—it ignores the body completely. Blood Piercer does the opposite—it only hurts the physical body and does nothing to souls."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Fenric exhaled softly, the corners of his lips lifting just a bit.

"A perfect split between soul and body... That’s sharp. Lethal."

He nodded with quiet approval.

"They’re both rare—especially Soul Piercer. Very few things in this world can harm someone’s soul directly. You’ve received something truly powerful."

Calia didn’t smile, but her voice held quiet pride.

"My class evolved during the pact. It’s no longer just Shadow Queen."

She glanced down at the daggers again.

"It’s now Shadow Poison Queen. It’s an Epic-tier class."

Fenric’s eyes gleamed for a moment—clearly pleased.

"Good. That means the Spirit you summoned was a perfect match. That kind of change doesn’t happen naturally—it was meant to be. You were chosen."

Then he added with a bit of humor:

"With a title like that, smart enemies won’t even try to fight you. Only the stupid ones will."

At that moment, one of the others—Eiden—stepped forward.

"Your Highness," he asked nervously, "is it possible for us to form a contract with a Spirit too?"

He glanced at the others. Clearly, they were wondering the same thing.

Fenric looked at him for a moment, then leaned back into his seat, thinking.

"It’s not that I don’t want you to," he said, "but you need to understand something—Spirit Mages are very rare."

He waved a hand loosely.

"You are all my knights now, and I see greatness in each of you. But Spirits don’t just come to anyone. Even among those who can use Aura, maybe only one out of a hundred can connect with a Spirit."

He let that fact settle over them.

"And across the entire Empire?" he continued. "There are only a few hundred Spirit Mages. Total. That’s how rare this ability is."

He let his eyes sweep across the group.

"Calia was lucky... or maybe meant to receive her Spirit. Her class almost required it, and she had the right affinity. The rest of you..."

His gaze lingered on them.

"You might become warriors that shake the world. But if your soul doesn’t resonate with the spirit realm, then no contract will ever form."

Despite his warning, he saw it—the fire in their eyes.

They weren’t discouraged. They were motivated.

Fenric noticed.

He didn’t say anything more, but the small nod he gave was enough to show he respected it.