Clara
They wish to devote their life to you in loyalty. For Shed's sake, having your head cut off once would be nothing at all to you.
She likes you. For Serin's sake, you look like the sort of man who would destroy a country or so.
They hold you in awe. For Manerik's sake, you'd spare them a word or so.
He read the summons' descriptions over again, carefully. No matter how long he stared a hole through them, the text refused to change.
"Wow. This is unhinged."
It was worse than anything he'd heard about on the gallery.
"System window."
He tapped the gallery tab at the top of the System window. Why a forum lived inside the System window at all, he had no idea—but it was convenient, and by now it was simply how things worked. These days, "going on a community" no longer meant turning on the internet and logging in. The gallery in the System window had become the obvious choice, because even inside the Tower, where you couldn't bring a single object from Earth, you could still open it.
He went into the Summoner board.
The summon descriptions he'd seen on the gallery were, by and large, exactly like this.
"But I'm supposed to get my head cut off? Or destroy a country?"
Aagh—why did this stuff only ever happen to him?
For lack of anything better, should he just take the last one, the description that only asked him to spare a word or two? Except that one was only level 5....
"Level 5's gonna make finding a party rough...."
A party could hold five at most. And here the summoner class, already rotten with problems, caught him by the ankle: under that five-person cap, the summoner and the summon each counted as their own member.
"Level 8 ought to be easier to party with than level 5...."
"Aagh! Seriously!"
It was a fixed nick he was on pretty good terms with, and all they were doing was messing with him.
Ding~!
He'd shut the System gallery in a fit of irritation, only for a chime to go off—someone must have left a new comment in that short span.
Under the working summoner's comment, he hurriedly transcribed the descriptions straight from the System window.
No matter how long he waited, the one called KnightsSquire never left another comment.
"Aagh! Seriously!"
Ding~!
Another chime announced a new comment, and he went back into the gallery. This time, too, it was a fixed nick he knew well enough.
You couldn't bring a single thing from Earth when you entered the Tower. Summons were no different—and it was the same the first time they were called to Earth. In other words, they arrived naked.
In truth, only Mage had come up Iron and the rest were Bronze, but explaining was a pain, so he answered with a vague agreement.
"Hmm...."
The bit about offering up his neck was a little much, sure. Even so, Shed was the right call, wasn't it? Surely they weren't some lunatic who would cut his head off in the name of devoted loyalty and then die themselves. At least the description didn't include any demand for money. Small mercies....
Nothing for it. There was no grasping the whole of a person from a single line of text, and more than anything, if he wanted a party starting from Floor 1, even a slightly higher level was an advantage.
Resolved, he reached out to select Shed.
In that instant a new entry appeared in the very same spot—and his hand selected it as it was.
She believes that you, whom she has met for the first time today, are fate. For Clara's sake, you too—
"Aagh, what the hell is this!!!"
How does a new listing get added at the exact moment he's in the middle of choosing? What kind of bug was this? And of all places, it had to refresh right where Shed had been!
"And are you kidding me! Level 5? The name's a girl's, too!"
It had changed the instant he touched it, so he never even got to finish the description that followed. What, exactly, was he supposed to do for Clara?
5 Mana has been permanently consumed.
"Aagh! Damn it!"
The summon was already complete. Mana matching the summon's level—five points—had been spent. Once you summoned someone, there was no such thing as calling them back. You had to stay together. There was one way to break a contract, but....
That kind of price is a bit much.
Clara is hopping up and down at your choice.
Huh?
The System window's description was still strange. Did that mean she was happy?
A moment later, fog poured in so thick he couldn't see a hand in front of his face, filling the field inside the Tower.
This is bad! The description was so bizarre I never got the chance to prepare.
He'd forgotten completely. They came through naked—he should have had clothes ready for the summon to wear. He clamped his eyes shut, and even that wasn't enough; he went so far as to cover them with both hands.
Tap.
At last came the sound of feet meeting the field. The summon was complete. What would she say? His heart hammered. Then a young woman's voice reached him, and his mind went white.
"What?"
He genuinely had no idea what was happening anymore.
The Chairman's office, Korea Hunter Association.
An elf in a knight's uniform sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. Before him stood a middle-aged man who hadn't even been permitted to sit, his hands clasped tight.
"Useless humans."
"...I am deeply sorry, Vice-Captain."
Vice-Captain. An elf summoned by some summoner who had climbed as far as Floor 40. Level 49—a man who had served as vice-captain of a knightly order in the other world.
There was a problem, though. Like so many otherworlders, he was high-handed, and he looked down on humans. In the end, the summoner paid the price. To sever the contract with this elf.
The price was paid, and that much was fine, because the Association had offered an enormous sum. Of course, as anyone could see, the suffering the summoner had endured on this elf's account didn't simply vanish—but the otherworlders' abilities were tempting enough to be worth coveting all the same.
"How long, exactly, am I expected to wait?"
"Our summoner is climbing even now. They will reach Floor 49 shortly. From then, if you ascend with them, Vice-Captain, Floor 60 will come quickly. And then we will be able to receive Her Majesty the Queen, will we not? Please—just a little. Just a little longer."
"I cannot understand it. What could possibly be so difficult that you rest for days on end?"
"Unlike you otherworlders, humans suffer aftereffects from climbing the Tower...."
Tap. Tap.
The Vice-Captain flicked the table with a fingertip.
"Our queen is one who will become a high elf, a being passed down only in legend."
His voice climbed.
"That legendary high elf, I tell you! And yet we are held up for days over something so trivial!"
"I apologize! W-we are doing our very best!"
CRASH!
In the end, the Vice-Captain brought his hand down on the table before him. Solid hardwood split cleanly in two.
"I entered the Association's service in order to attend the queen. If this continues, I will go to another country!"
"P-please, anything but that...!"
Today, as every day, the Association Chairman could only fold at the waist on reflex.
The Chairman's office, after the elf had gone.
A shattered door. A table broken in two. The wreckage lay where it had fallen. Even so, they had no choice but to humor him. That was why they had brought the elf Vice-Captain into the Association in the first place, even at the cost of a fortune.
Level 49. On stats alone, level 48 and level 49 were no great difference. What changed was Prayer—a hierarchy that rose on a gap of a single level. From level 49, one became a High-level Ability User.
Of course, being a High-level Ability User did not make the Vice-Captain the strongest. Too wide a gap in level could not be overturned. But if it were the elf queen, whom even the Vice-Captain never tired of praising—if that queen, level 69, were to come?
How high would a human have to climb to stand above her?
"Ahh~ I want to resign as Chairman!"
Today, as every day, all he could do was pray that someone would appear to put an end to this.