It’s a fact that my summons inherit traits from me, whether that’s heightened intelligence or human-like personalities. That’s why they end up bigger, stronger, smarter, and faster than the creatures they were originally based on. And because of that, I started to wonder.

  What else could they inherit?

  “Hah!”

  In an empty arena that gradually darkened, still visible thanks to a few softly glowing lanterns. Pickle slashed through the air in front of him.

  It’s not bad form.

  Sys, wearing glasses and jotting notes into a small pad, looked like a D1 college recruiter evaluating talent.

  If I had to rate it myself, I’d say it resembled my own form back when I was just starting out. Not particularly good, but full of potential.

  After his initial slash, Pickle brought his sword up into a horizontal cut. When the blade struck and lodged itself in the dummy’s neck, he spun around and followed up with a back kick.

  “Are goblins usually this good with swords?”

  Of course not. Even hobgoblins and other higher forms are, at best, savages, who are most effective with clubs or their bare hands.

  This ingrained sense of swordsmanship, paired with his goblin instincts that told him exactly when to launch a desperate, surprise attack—

  That was what he’d inherited.

  “What’s next, General?” Pickle asked, eyes bright with excitement.

  For now, we need to figure out the limits of his skill with a blade.

  “Do you remember the moves I used against Malo?” I asked.

  “Yes, General,” Pickle replied.

  “Try your best to emulate what I did,” I instructed.

  He nodded and went back to work on the dummy.

  Meanwhile, Sys and I mulled things over.

  Let’s clear the room first. After defeating both Malo and Tao, two exceptionally difficult quests, you’ve leveled up considerably.

  Name: Beric Bome

  Race: Half-Elf

  Age: 10

  Class: Magical Swordsman

  Level: 201

  Strength: 1,078

  Speed: 1,093

  Stamina: 1,117

  Endurance: 1,131

  Durability: 1,124

  Mana: 1,305

  Soul Rank: Stable

  Soul Color: Blue

  Sys tore off a page.

  These stats are much better than before you entered the tournament, so hopefully, upon your next fights, your opponents will be surprised by this sudden change.

  That wasn’t the only thing that had changed on my status screen.

  Aside from the map, my inventory—which still held thousands of bodies—my weapon box that remained empty, and my spell list showing slight shifts in letter grades, what truly caught my attention was the addition of letter grades in my summons list.

  It was a small detail: G next to Rogue, a D beside Shade. Even with a sword and training, Pickle was still sitting at an E.

  It felt like there were still hidden features, things that were locked, but at the same time, what I already had could be upgraded, revealing more depth than before.

  But one of those locked options stood out.

  It was glowing. Not metaphorically, but actually glowing. And when I pressed it, another screen appeared.

  ???

  Requirement: Win the Winged Fangs Tournament.

  It couldn’t have been the Artifact, since it would belong in the weapon box.

  Sys snapped his fingers.

  Your stats look great, and while you did beat Malo, that doesn’t mean what you have will be enough for everyone else. Everyone fights in their own way, and you need to be ready for all of them.

  I turned to Sys.

  You did great by shoring up your weak spots, but now it’s time to take a step back and focus on what you do best.

  Sys grinned and pointed at my chest.

  It’s time to work on that talent of yours.

  But it wasn’t like soul magic was the only thing I needed to focus on.

  I formed a barrier, watching it shimmer as it settled into a clean, rectangular shape.

  Arcane magic, the fourth of the main magic styles, was broad enough to stand on three major pillars.

  There was Creation Magic, where my barriers and mana missiles fell. Manipulation Magic, the art of using mana to influence pre-existing targets, like body strengthening and transformation. And finally, Negation Magic, which dealt with removing or countering spells altogether.

  If you noticed, there was a clear theme tying the three together. Creation was about making something, Manipulation was about changing it, and Negation was about erasing it.

  Pretty cool.

  Anyway, what I’d mainly learned so far was Barrier, Mana Missile, and Body Strengthening.

  Elder Walden had insisted those three were all I needed for now, that I should focus instead on strengthening my connection with Sprite.

  And honestly? He wasn’t wrong. I had managed to win using just that.

  But if I wanted to keep winning, I needed to get better.

  So instead of wasting time trying to learn an entirely new spell, I should just focus on how I can improve what I know.

  I thought back to when I first learned Barrier, how Elder Walden drilled it into my head that it wasn’t just a shield. It was a shape that naturally formed, and I was the one responsible for applying enough layers to turn it into an actual barrier.

  And I remembered Rogue calling me uncreative.

  I willed the reinforcements away, leaving behind a fragile rectangle.

  It’s not a shield. It’s a solid form of pure mana.

  Barrier magic might be used for defense, but that doesn’t mean that’s all it’s good for.

  I wondered what would happen if I used the mana from its reinforced layers in a different way.

  Focusing on the rectangle, I forced the mana to condense. I willed it to change, squeezing it tighter and tighter until it was forced to collapse. The already-fragile shape lost its structure, its power converting into something else entirely.

  What faced me now was a transparent blob of pure mana.

  This is good thinking, Beric. You’re using barrier magic as a foundation to figure out what else you can do within Arcane magic.

  Now, let’s try it.

  I created thin layers of mana around the blob, letting them close in slowly as I willed it to take shape. I made sure the layers moved in a circular motion, breathing steadily as the process began to take its toll.

  Eventually, a circle formed.

  Creation magic, the pillar of Arcane magic where you create solid forms of mana.

  We both stared at it.

  So, now what? Are you going to make a triangle next?

  I played around with the circle for a bit. Since it wasn’t as heavy as the rectangle barrier due to how reinforced it was, it took a lot less stress in moving it around. Watching it float around Sys, I couldn’t help but notice how similar they were.

  Hey, watch it. This circle doesn’t even come close to how-

  Sys paused.

  All of a sudden, romantic music started playing and headlights shone right at the two.

  Sys held a rose in his mouth as he hovered closer.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Now that I’ve gotten a better look, I’d like to take my words back, Beautiful.

  You can probably imagine the look of horror on my face.

  Hm.

  Sys had a look of shock when the circle quickly flew away, which he took as a sign of rejection.

  Wait!

  I willed the circle to continually avoid Sys, and I watched the two go around in a wild goose chase.

  I’ve always been a cucker. Is it cucker? Is there a word that-

  I winced as the circle veered to the left right before hitting a training dummy, something that Sys didn’t manage to do in time.

  Ouch.

  I should stop messing around. I need-

  I made it avoid the dummy.

  It has solid form.

  And it can fly.

  Willing it back toward me, I stared at the circle.

  Then I condensed it further, forcing it into an oval. Using the reinforcement layers, I guided it carefully, shaping it until—

  Finally, the form widened, becoming larger and more stable.

  Sys flew over, rubbing the back of his head.

  What are you doing with that?

  I took a deep breath and willed the oval beneath my feet. Peeling away a thin layer to create a weakened point, I slipped my right foot into it.

  Oh.

  Very slowly, I held my breath as the oval lifted me upward.

  It wasn’t even a foot off the ground, but it worked.

  I was floating.

  When I dismissed it, I dropped back onto the ground.

  Not a bad idea. Since barriers have physical form and are built to withstand force, you can actually stand on them. Theoretically, if you reinforced them enough, you could even fly with them. Though, Sys added, it’s probably too early for that.

  The idea of different forms sparked another thought.

  Mana Missiles.

  They could be lethal when fully charged, but the time and safety required to build them up made them almost impractical. With how fast-paced my recent fights had been, I’d barely had a chance to use them at all.

  But what if I used barrier magic to get around that?

  I shaped the spine carefully, a rigid core where every strain would converge, condensing the energy until it felt solid as steel. From that core, I drew out the limbs. I narrowed my focus and carved a channel along the top, a smooth track for the bolt to ride. This was a very important part, so I kept reinforcing it until the mana lay perfectly straight. Beneath it, I formed the grip, shaping it to my palm.

  The trigger assembly was the hardest part. I split the mana into interlocking pieces, by shaping a small hooked core to cradle the string, then sealing it in place with a lock. When the final piece locked into place, I released my strain.

  Last came the string.

  I stretched a filament of mana between the limbs, pulling it back slowly, feeding energy into it until the limbs bowed. The string locked into the trigger with a sharp, final click.

  A simple stock formed against my shoulder, and when I released my grip as it floated, the stress and effort into building this hit me instantly as I barely stood straight.

  Ah, a crossbow.

  Sys made sure to analyze it carefully.

  The problem with your mana missiles in the past was how you had to manually charge it up. Now with this crossbow, it should charge up naturally and you’ll be able to fire it whenever you want to.

  Creating this took 150 mana, about Shade and Rogue together. Since each mana missile now took only 10 mana, if I was right, I could easily use this to my advantage.

  Sys looked at me thoughtfully.

  You know, that was great from you. You managed to figure out more of Creation magic just by combining what you knew………Huh, I wonder if you can do the same for-

  Sys suddenly stopped.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Look.

  He answered while pointing at Sys.

  At first, I didn’t see the issue.

  Pickle was doing well—slashing, slicing, stabbing, throwing in spins and kicks whenever he could.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  Don’t you see it?

  “See what?”

  He’s doing everything he can to that dummy.

  “Uh huh?”

  It’s just a dummy, Sys continued, and because of that, this is all Pickle can do.

  I kept watching.

  I didn’t get it at first. What was I supposed to notice? Pickle was performing exactly as expected, mimicking the way I used to train. Obviously, he couldn’t replicate the moves I’d used against Malo on a stationary target—

  Oh.

  Pickle was doing great.

  But how was he supposed to truly replicate my techniques, or show what he was really capable of, if his opponent was nothing more than a motionless dummy?

  “I get it now, Sys.”

  I walked over to Pickle.

  He snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, General?”

  “Fight me for a bit.”

  Pickle choked. “A-Are you sure?”

  I picked up a forgotten wooden sword. “Just for a short while.”

  Pickle waited for a bit. Then, he swallowed and nodded while taking a stance. “I understand.”

  I glanced down at the sword. It had a few rough edges and felt brittle in my grip, but it would have to do.

  “Come when you’re ready.”

  Pickle nodded and took a deep breath.

  Sys grabbed some popcorn.

  I waited.

  Then, it began.

  Pickle rushed forward with a thrust, but I sidestepped easily and swept at his legs with a kick.

  He reacted fast, jumping back just in time, then used that momentum to surge forward again, blade low and aimed.

  Before he could commit to another thrust, I stepped in and aimed a pierce straight at his chest.

  Pickle met my blade with his own, catching it and guiding it off to the side. In one smooth motion, he flipped his grip and redirected the sword back toward me in a counterthrust.

  The Waterfall Counter.

  But I’d already seen it coming.

  I lowered my stance slightly, slipped my left arm underneath, and grabbed his sword arm while driving my legs forward. The kick landed solidly, and I used the leverage to throw him back across the floor.

  Pickle rolled once and came back up quickly, breathing hard but steady.

  “You’re not doing too bad,” I called out.

  Pickle nodded, tightening his grip. “Thank you, General.”

  The technique would’ve worked on most opponents, but I knew exactly what he could do, and I knew the move itself even better. I understood its limits and its flaws. As long as someone used their free arm to control the sword arm, the counter collapsed almost instantly.

  Pickle reset his stance, circling this time instead of charging straight in. His eyes stayed locked on my shoulders, watching for movement.

  Good on being patient.

  He then darted in with a shallow slash meant to bait a response. I didn’t take it. When I didn’t move, he followed with a second cut, then a third, each one faster, more confident.

  Then he shifted.

  With both of his hands, the sword dipped low before snapping upward in a rising slash. I stepped back, but he flowed with me, adjusting mid-motion and driving a pierce straight for my neck.

  Dual Cleaver.

  Again, an obvious weakness.

  I deflected the blade aside and drove a side kick into his stomach, forcing the air out of him as he stumbled back.

  Pickle skidded to a stop, coughing once before straightening again. He didn’t rush this time. Instead, he tightened his stance with a tired look.

  This was starting to feel stale.

  Pickle was doing an excellent job mimicking my techniques, but against someone who had already mastered them, the counters were painfully clear. Watching him was like watching a younger version of myself, struggling to—

  ……….It was myself.

  I knew the weaknesses in my Form.

  And fighting Pickle let me see exactly where and when they appeared.

  Pickle advanced again, slower now. He feinted left, then right, trying to draw a reaction. When I didn’t bite, he suddenly dropped low and spun.

  Another Dual Cleaver.

  I stepped back, but this time, Pickle didn’t finish the motion upright. He spun lower, closer to the ground.

  I expected a forward thrust riding that momentum.

  Instead, Pickle snapped his hand down and scooped up dirt.

  Before I could fully react, it was flung straight into my face, blinding me for a split second.

  In that instant, I knew exactly what Pickle was aiming for.

  I moved on instinct.

  Predicting the attack, I leaned back and slashed upward in a sharp arc, knocking his blade clean off course. The sword flew from his hands and skidded across the ground.

  When my vision cleared, Pickle was staring at me, eyes wide, chest rising and falling.

  “You reacted to that?” He voiced breathlessly. He plopped down. "Wow." His shoulders sagged. “I knew I had no chance of winning, but I thought I could at least make it worthwhile." Pickle wore a sad look. "I can’t even challenge you like this.”

  My summons grow with me.

  When I learn, when I improve, they improve too.

  Pickle turned away, gripping his arm. “Sorry, General.”

  This training didn’t just benefit me. It benefited them as well.

  “Pick up your sword, Pickle.”

  He froze, then turned back. “General?”

  This was better than I’d expected.

  “We’re not done yet.”

  Now that I think about it, there is a way to cover my weaknesses.

  “Rogue.”

  Rogue slid out from beneath my shirt, stretching lazily. “Yeah, Boss?”

  “Remember the fight against that orc?” I said. “How you pulled its attention while I went in for the attack?”

  “I do.”

  I nodded toward Pickle. “Do the same thing here. Support Pickle while fighting me.”

  Both of them stiffened.

  “Are you sure, General?” Pickle asked.

  It wouldn’t just help me visualize real combat, but it would also help them. Teamwork wasn’t something only I relied on. My summons fought together too.

  After a brief period, Rogue hopped onto Pickle’s shoulder with a grin. “The boss has spoken, Pickle. Let’s just do what we can.”

  Pickle hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I understand. I'll do my best to not slow you down.”

  "Attaboy. As your senior, I'll pave the way." Rogue replied.

  I wonder if this was what that orc saw.

  Pickle standing with both his hands on his sword, Rogue perched on his shoulder.

  I raised my sword and settled into my stance. “Come.”

  They moved together.

  Pickle rushed in first, obviously going for a wide slash. But Rogue leapt off his shoulder mid-charge, darting around my flank. I deflected Pickle’s slash just in time to raise a foot as Rogue swept low, his claws scraping across my boots.

  I twisted, kicking Rogue away, but Pickle was already there, pressing forward with a rapid sequence of strikes.

  I parried twice, stepped inside his guard, and slammed my shoulder into his chest, only to feel Rogue latch onto my arm, tugging me off balance.

  This is what it fought.

  I broke free with a sharp jerk, forcing space between us, my heart racing just a bit faster than before.

  They weren’t perfect.

  But together?

  They were better.

  Pickle didn’t chase immediately. Instead, he shifted to my left. Rogue circled the opposite side, tail flicking as he stayed just out of reach.

  They were splitting my attention.

  Pickle lunged, a shallow thrust meant to draw my guard. I knocked it aside, and Rogue took the opening, leaping for my back. I spun just in time, batting him away with the flat of my blade, but that half-second was all Pickle needed.

  Steel rang as his sword crashed against mine, forcing me to brace. He pushed in, using his weight, and for a moment I was on the defensive.

  Good pressure.

  I disengaged with a sharp twist and kicked at Pickle’s knee, forcing him to hop back. Rogue tried to capitalize by darting in to snap at my ankle, but I kicked backwards hard, the impact sending him tumbling away again.

  Rogue was back on his feet instantly, scampering behind Pickle as he advanced once more.

  Pickle feinted high with a fist, then slashed upwards low. I blocked the first, barely deflected the second, and felt Rogue slam into my leg, throwing off my footing. I stumbled, and Pickle immediately went for it, thrusting straight toward my center.

  I summoned a quick barrier that took the hit.

  Oh?

  Sys let out a noise of amusement.

  That's surprising.

  They forced me to use magic.

  They were learning from each other.

  I was learning from them.

  And they were learning from me.

  Perfect. This is exactly what I need.