A summoner's true strength lies in their power to call forth beings from other realms.
Yet bringing such creatures into the mortal world demands a tremendous price in spirit and life force. Many summoners, reckless in their ambition, have tried to summon beyond their limits—only to wither to husks before their creatures even appeared.
Thus were offerings conceived—a shortcut for those unwilling to burn themselves away.
An offering could be a living being, a corpse, a monster, a zombie—or even the summoner's own flesh and soul.
Like money, the greater the amount, the finer the purchase. The higher the quality of the offering, the stronger the summoned creature it could yield.
A first-tier offering such as a blood leech might call forth skeletal soldiers; a second-tier red beetle could summon an armored corpse; a third-tier venomous griffin might yield a raging tyrant beast; and a fourth-tier azure thunder hawk could bring down a giant of lightning itself.
Of course, just as in the mortal world, where one can spend a fortune only to buy counterfeits, the art of summoning too has its deceptions. Many have offered legendary corpses like bone dragons or zombie kings—only to summon pitiful goblins or feral boars instead. Countless summoners met their end by such treacherous "forgeries."
Even Li Jiayu had once suffered such humiliation. His demon-hunting squad had been commissioned to slay a pair of Black Knights. When his comrades, exhausted to the brink of collapse, finally killed the female knight, all hope of survival rested on Li Jiayu's summoning. With her corpse as the offering, he was expected to conjure a powerful ally to defeat her husband.
Instead... he summoned a hen.
The shrill cluck, cluck, cluck of the bird echoed through the battlefield as his team coughed blood in sheer disbelief. In the end, they had no choice but to retreat, leaving behind two fallen companions. The memory still burned in Li Jiayu's mind—shame and fury interwoven.
At that time, he had only been an apprentice; mistakes were to be expected. But after ascending to Grand Summoner, such blunders never occurred again.
Still, the art remained a gamble. Just as one might occasionally win a fortune in a lottery, a summoner might, by luck alone, call forth a being far superior to the value of the offering. One could, in theory, use the carcass of a common sow—and summon a Frost Dragon.
The odds, however, were infinitesimal. Yet not impossible.
In truth, summoning was a gambler's craft. One lucky draw could turn the tide of fate; one misstep could lead to ruin—and drag an entire team to the grave.
Now, Li Jiayu was ready to gamble again.
The Scythe Beetle before him was a mid-tier first-level offering. Ordinarily, it would yield creatures such as skeletons, imps, berserker goblins, orcs—perhaps, if fortune smiled, a naga, ogre, or azure bear.
With a summoned beast at his side, and his own sharp command and axe work, he could face the Crimson Beetles head-on. If all went well, he might slay a dozen of them, collect their crystals, and seize the first fortune of the apocalypse.
"Li Jiayu... can you stop bringing up how we wet ourselves? It's embarrassing. We didn't do it on purpose..."
Sun Weiwei's face was crimson. Once, Li Jiayu had been courteous, almost gentlemanly—the so-called "friend of women." But now, his every word seemed to fluster and provoke. She couldn't fathom what had changed him so drastically.
"Well, whose fault is that? Standing up to pee is a man's privilege, and you girls had to imitate it. See what happened? Wet pants."
Li Jiayu grinned, clearly in good spirits. He let the teasing end there, seeing how near tears some of the girls looked, and shifted the topic.
"Step back. I need to deal with the corpse."
Though no one quite understood what he intended, their trust in him was absolute. They obediently gave him space but kept their eyes fixed on him, curiosity burning bright.
"Who has a small knife?" he asked suddenly, touching the shallow cut left on his cheek by the beetle's blade.
One student hurried forward with a tiny fruit knife—the kind that hung from a keychain, useless against monsters but more than adequate for cutting flesh.
A fire axe could have done the job, of course, but its blade was slick with insect blood. Though not poisonous, it would taint the purity of his offering.
"Jiayu, what do you need that for? To dissect the bug?"
"..."Her naïve question left him speechless. After a moment, he replied curtly, "No. For bloodletting."
He drew the blade lightly across the inside of his elbow. Blood welled up instantly, spilling down his arm in heavy crimson drops that fell onto the corpse of the beetle.
The others stared, wide-eyed, but dared not interrupt him. His solemn focus radiated authority.
Then his fingers began to dance through the air, forming intricate sigils as his lips moved in a low, otherworldly chant. To his classmates, it looked as though a true magician—or perhaps an Eastern sage—stood before them, not some occult charlatan but a master of the unseen.
"Boundless void... endless rift... though divided by a thousand veils of space, our fates are intertwined.I am Li Jiayu, Summoner of the Central World.Hear me—heed my call."
As he recited the invocation, Wang Siyuan suddenly blanched. "Jiayu! Another Scythe Beetle—it's coming!"
Li Jiayu's head snapped toward the window. In the distance, another crimson shape streaked through the air, wings humming with lethal speed. Its eyes burned with fury and vengeance—it had come for the killer of its kin.
"D*mn it... the Scythe Beetle King!"
A chill stabbed through him. He had not expected a second so soon—let alone a king. A high-tier first-level predator, equal in rank to the Crimson Beetle but far deadlier, faster, and infinitely more ferocious.
(Not now... A Scythe Beetle King at this moment? Too dangerous. I can't win this one. Just two more seconds... I need two more seconds!)
Whirr!
Without warning, the creature dived. Its speed defied the eye. Li Jiayu's instincts screamed—he rolled aside just in time as the beetle's scythes sliced through the space he had occupied an instant before.
Fortunate. But not all were so lucky. The beast slammed into a male student behind him—splitting his torso in half with a single strike, his head and chest shearing away in a crimson spray.
"Ahhh!"
The classroom erupted in terror. Until now, the horror had been distant, abstract. But to see a friend—a classmate—torn in two before their eyes shattered what courage remained. Screams filled the air.
Blood spattered faces; bodies trembled too violently to move.
The Scythe Beetle King, merciless and unfeeling, turned its gaze upon another student. Its mandibles flashed—one snip, and the boy's legs were gone. His scream curdled into a gurgle as the creature drove a spiked leg through his chest.
It all happened in less than two seconds.
Rage ignited within Li Jiayu. Half-risen from the ground, he roared the final words of his summoning:
"Hear me, creature of the void! Become my companion, my blade, my shield!I offer you my sacrifice—my blood and my respect.Come forth—my new partner!"
The air thickened, congealing like syrup, pressing down on every lung. A glow flared beneath his feet, runes pulsing like a living pattern—an arcane circle of summoning.
The Beetle King turned its murderous gaze toward him, mandibles clicking, ready to strike.
Thud!
A hammer spun through the air, slamming into its head with a dull crack.
Sun Weiwei.
She had thrown it—using herself to draw its wrath, buying him precious seconds.
Foolish woman.Her courage burned, yet it filled him with fury. He did not need her pity.
The beetle turned toward her. Li Jiayu, seething, hurled his fire axe with all his might. The blade spun true, embedding itself in the creature's compound eye, bursting it in a spray of scarlet slime.
Shriek!
The Scythe Beetle King screamed, thrashing its wings like a cyclone, rising into the air once more—preparing for another devastating charge.
And then—
Li Jiayu felt it.
A connection forming—a bridge between his mind and another's.
(It's here... it's finally here! My summoned partner—at last!)
Ecstasy flared through him. His heart pounded, blood pouring freely from his wound.
(So much blood... but the more it takes, the stronger it will be. Don't fail me now.)
The beetle closed in—three meters, two—
And then, before it could reach him, a mass of darkness erupted above its head, falling like a storm.
Boom!
The Scythe Beetle King was crushed to the floor beneath a writhing shadow of black tentacles.
The Dark Octopus had arrived.