The spell world for "Summon" is essentially a hollow cage made of magical and spiritual energy. A soul is trapped inside, and a form is created to match its spiritual essence, an echo of its living form, brought to life by magic. The summoned being is tethered by the same magical essence, which imposes the user’s will upon it. Should the being resist, it is immediately unsummoned. This tether allows even non-sentient beings to understand and follow their master’s will.

  Every spell world has its own unique energy signature. After all this time studying them—more than most ever have—I’ve begun to uncover deeper secrets. For example, the magical energy behind a fire spell consists of both magic and fire. The same is true for electricity: it’s both, and yet neither.

  Are elemental and magical energies bound together? Or is it not a full conversion, with the remaining will energy allowing for better control?

  Neither.

  The will energy within the spell world adopts an attribute tied to the effect or element.

  Take fire, for instance, or fire burst, or even force push. Control over lightning, targeting a conductor, follows the same logic: the effect is still bound by will. That’s why it works. It’s malleable to the user’s will, influenced by the intended effect during creation.

  This is why I’m able to modify spells with ease, while others struggle. My past lives’ education, a trained imagination, and my unparalleled willpower make this possible.

  Normally, the being inside a summon is stuck as it is forever. To overcome this weakness, the tether can remove itself from the summoned being and bind to another when it kills a stronger creature, replacing the old soul with the new one. This, however, is its greatest flaw. Sometimes the spell recognizes a stronger being that’s far less useful. For instance, a summoned bandit may be replaced by an undead lord—more powerful, but slow and useless in defending its master. Sometimes, you need to keep a certain summon for a while.

  Another flaw of the spell is its inability to grow on its own. It relies on the strength of the summon as it was before death, not what it could become. Souls, like bodies, can grow stronger—so can Will. If the caster fed the summon a portion of the experience from the enemies it killed, it could grow exponentially. The potential is limitless. But there’s a reason a caster might avoid this—doing so could allow the summon to develop powers of its own, powers that could negate the control effect or even break free entirely.

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  The summon would likely resent its killer and seek to free itself. Insects and beasts, however, would lack the intellect to do so. My initial purpose for summoning, though, is unrelated to its normal use. I want to keep the starter summon for a side mission. The soul of the starter is given to the mage-in-training by the guild, trapped within a crystal.

  I followed the book’s instructions to create the spell world’s vessel. The only differences I made were: that the tether wouldn’t change to another soul unless I willed it consciously, and the summon would gain all the will experience of what it kills.

  The spell world took shape, and I willed the tether to latch onto the wasp’s soul in the crystal.

  I opened my eyes.

  Reaching out, I activated "Summon."

  The wasp appeared before me. I anticipated violence from the creature, but instead, it seemed to recognize me as its queen. The tether must be similar to something the wasp queen has—perhaps a hive mind?

  Normally, people of Albion mistake a person’s ego or remaining will for a soul. But the creator’s intention of capturing “souls” has made it clear: it truly captures them. Both the soul and will of the creature remain intact. It was just as I suspected, and it made me wonder about something else...

  "I pat it. I dub thee Stingee."

  The creature expresses joy at the signs of affection, not quite understanding my words but still recognizing the intention behind them.

  "That's cool," Elvira said, watching the interaction.

  "Not as good as your summoned swords, but it has a great purpose. I won't use it in battle for a long time," I replied.

  "What's the purpose?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I shook my head. "It’s a secret. I don’t know if it will work or not, and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up."

  "Fair enough," she smiled, clearly respecting the mystery.

  "What are you working on?" I asked.

  "Just physical shield at the moment," she explained, glancing at the glowing barrier she was working to strengthen.

  "How about you learn ice magic?" I suggested.

  "Ice magic?" she repeated, sounding intrigued.

  "Yeah, nobody uses it yet, but it has more potential than just creating a blizzard. You can make walls, weapons, even armor in the blink of an eye. Surely the versatility alone is worth acquiring. It also has some affinity with death, so you should be able to learn a modified version of it easily," I said, trying to tempt her.

  "Okay, you've convinced me. Ice crystals can be very pretty," she smiled, her eyes lighting up at the idea.

  I realized she was likely planning on making her armor radiant like a rainbow, even though she’s literally the avatar and contractor of death. I refrained from laughing, albeit with some difficulty.

  "It’s not funny! I’m basically a princess," she whined, pouting slightly.

  "You are, at least in one way," I smirked, enjoying the moment. It was a welcome break before diving into the next two spells. These would be by far the most difficult. One would become my primary spell for magic combat as Arn, and the other would be a combat spell for Grey Cowl. A lightning spell, fit for Maze's protege, and a very special version of fireball tailored specifically for Grey Cowl.