Chapter 158: Into the summons world

Chapter 158: Into the summons world The choice was simple—either live a few more years in the safety of the known world, or face a probably certain death in the unknown. No one except the descendants truly knew what awaited within the Summon World. Their families had undoubtedly passed down stories, fragments of truth that painted glimpses of the trials ahead. Perhaps a few other families too—those who had gone through the test generations ago—held secret knowledge buried deep within bloodlines. But judging by the blank, nervous expressions worn by most of the students gathered in the underground chamber, it was clear. Confusion hung in the air like heavy fog. Kairos figured this was one of those unspoken traditions—knowledge so dangerous, or so sacred, that even Grade Twos wouldn’t whisper it to their own children. Who knew why? ’But my choice is pretty much settled,’ Kairos thought. There was no reason to back down now. He was drawn toward strength, and the Summon World was the crucible in which he would forge it. Power wasn’t a dream to him. It was a destination. "So, does anyone want to forfeit the test?" Sergeant Henry asked, lifting one hand in a calm, measured gesture, demonstrating the simple signal the students could make if they wished to step back from the trial. No one moved. It was as though a venomous mask had sealed itself over their faces—expressions vacant, locked in solemn resolve. The Summon World, no matter how treacherous, seemed a more honorable fate than the shame of forfeiting. Perhaps some were scared, but pride... pride was an iron chain stronger than fear. For a brief second, Sergeant Henry’s rigid composure flickered. A momentary lapse in discipline danced across his weathered eyes, as if his conscience struggled to hold firm. Quickly, he recovered, clearing his throat with a gruff noise that echoed faintly against the cave walls. "Lie yourselves on the floor and wait until sleep claims you," he instructed. "Once that happens, you will enter the Summon World. And until you find your summon... you will not wake." He said no more. Silence swept through the chamber like a cold gust of wind. It wasn’t fear that moved the first bodies, but purpose. The descendants, born of those who had walked this path before, were already stepping toward the uneven terrain of the crevice. There was no hesitation in their movements. They knew. Or at least they believed they did. Lina, Rayla, Rivet, Carlos, and a few others found spots among the cracks and ridges of the cavern floor. They nestled down like wolves curling beneath the night sky, bracing themselves for something only they could truly imagine. Their positions were relaxed, almost too relaxed—lying with the grace of those who knew they were not dying, only sleeping... even if that sleep might be eternal. Nicely done. Kairos observed the scene. A blend of respect and silent acknowledgment stirred within him. These weren’t just classmates anymore. They were participants in a sacred trial. Soon, others followed. The initial hesitation evaporated like mist under fire. Students scattered to different corners of the cavern. Some searched for smooth, comfortable spots. Others simply dropped where they stood, surrendering to what was to come. Mikey moved purposefully to Rivet’s side without a word, and lay down beside his. Kairos separated from Darnell, his gaze drawn toward a peculiar spot near the back of the cave. A large golden crystal jutted from the earth, its shape ragged and angular, yet it glowed faintly like a forgotten treasure left behind by the world itself. Something about it resonated with him. Without question, he moved to it, sat down, and let his back rest against the radiant crystal. Its touch was cold, unyielding, yet somehow comforting—like the embrace of a silent guardian. In that position, slouched and quiet, he felt like a battle-weary warrior, resting at the brink of a heroic death, just before the tale turned. ’When I wake up... I want to be sitting in this same position. I want to come back far stronger than I am now.’ With a breath slow and steady, he let go. The hard floor pressed against his body, but it didn’t matter. The stone embraced him like a bed of forgotten gods. He felt himself drifting, not with fear, but with purpose. Lina was already fading. In her mind and heart, she had prepared herself for the worst. This was the moment she had trained for her entire life. Kaela lay in silence, empty of thought. She didn’t need hope or fear—only sleep. Her only desire was to enter the Summon World and find her fate there. Darnell trembled slightly beneath his bravado. He was excited, but anxious. His heart pounded like a war drum. Would he get stronger? Would he face legendary beasts? He didn’t know. And the uncertainty was killing him. Carlos lay still, his eyes closed, his mind focused. His thoughts were twofold—his mission, and Kairos. That boy. There was something about him. Something important. And Kairos... the young shadow summoner, his mind sharp, his instincts alert, had already begun to fall. Slipping away, deeper and deeper, until there was nothing but blackness. A moment passed in absolute silence. Then, a notification appeared before his mind’s eye, glowing in pale white letters. [You are entering into the Summon World] [All physical body has been turned off] [Astral form projected...] And just like that, he and the others lying deep inside the torn hollow of the earth... fell unconscious. *** The summon world? Probably a land with proper vegetation, or with a strange type of environment. Something very different maybe? Or something like paradise. Who knew? Kairos felt his body flicker between dimensions—zoning in and out like a fading mirage. Immediately, a surge of unspeakable agony tore through him, as though a thousand fire ants had erupted across his skin, gnawing away with tiny, furious jaws. He tried to open his eyes, desperate to understand his surroundings, but the moment he did, it was as though he had flung open the gates of hell—inviting the fire ants directly into his eyes. And they did not hesitate. He screamed. Raw, painful, broken. His body convulsed violently as he fell to his side, gripping his face in sheer panic. The ground beneath him was strange—soft and yielding. But it wasn’t comforting in any sense. It swallowed his body slightly as though he’d collapsed into a half-solid pool of heat. It burned. The ground was ablaze, but not with visible flames. It radiated heat like a furnace, branding his skin with every second of contact. Kairos groaned, the pain intensifying as he felt his lungs begin to swell. It wasn’t air he was inhaling. It was heat. Coarse, gritty, suffocating. His nostrils clogged almost immediately, and panic overtook him. He writhed, instinctively coughing and sneezing, trying to dislodge whatever was crawling its way deeper inside him. But it didn’t stop. And then it hit him. That terrible, surreal moment when his life began flashing before his eyes. Kairos felt his consciousness flicker like a dying flame. His lungs screamed for a gasp of fresh air, but there was no such mercy—not here. Not in this world. The fire ants—or whatever they were—poured into his airways mercilessly, climbing, crawling, biting. He opened his mouth in desperation and drew in a breath—not out of choice, but survival instinct. He knew more of those searing creatures would enter. He knew the cost. But in that moment, he no longer cared. This was probably his last breath of air. And he would die within seconds. What luck... And then— He shut his mouth tightly after the long inhale. It didn’t feel like a breath of air, but a mouthful of embers. Yet, surprisingly, his body began to relax, ever so slightly. His chest, which had felt like it was crushing itself inward, slowly eased. His muscles, drawn tight from pain, loosened. Crunch. His teeth clenched down on something coarse, dry—almost grainy. It wasn’t fire ants. He tasted it more clearly now. ’Sand... Hot sand... What the hell is this?’ Kairos was stunned, confusion gripping his thoughts like a vice. He’d assumed the sensation on his skin and in his lungs was from some living horror. But it was sand—dry, burning sand, whipping and funneling all around him in a storm of pain. Blind and struggling, he pushed his body up to a kneeling position. His eyes remained sealed shut, packed with grit. He raised both hands, shielding his face like an umbrella, trying to block the onslaught. Still, he couldn’t open them. No matter how much he willed it, his eyes refused to respond. Even with the looming fear of danger—of blindness, of death—his own body betrayed him. His organs recoiled harder than his own mind could fear. All he could do now was sit there, kneeling, helpless, enveloped in the violent embrace of a storm of sand. He had no idea where he was. No clue why he had been sent here—or what terrible things were waiting for him in the shadows of this unfamiliar world. [Ding!] A chime echoed in his mind, sharp and mechanical. And then a voice followed, distant yet unmistakable. [You have obtained another Title] [The blind child sees no path] The words hung in his head like a riddle. And just as the message concluded, something shifted inside him. Something strange. Kairos gasped softly—not in pain this time, but in awe. Suddenly, he could see. Not through his eyes—no. His eyes were still sealed tight by the relentless sand—but his mind saw everything. It was as though his soul had lifted from his body, floating high above the dunes. He could see himself, kneeling. He could see the terrain, the swirling storm, the endless expanse. But the colors... they were not real. Everything around him was cast in hues of black, ash, and white—like watching an old, flickering film from a distant time. It disoriented him at first, but then he understood—somewhat. ’The blind child sees no path? Does that mean I’m currently blind?’ It made sense. Sort of. He didn’t know what to believe, but the Title seemed to grant him an ability to observe, to perceive without needing his eyes. And right now, that was a gift beyond comprehension. He could see the ash-colored sand around him, dancing through the air like dry snow. He could see his own black figure hunched and kneeling amid the storm. His vision reached only a bit beyond thirteen meters, but all of it looked the same—sand below, sand above. A never-ending desert of desolation. To confirm he wasn’t imagining things, he slowly bent forward and touched the ground. The moment his hands made contact, the sand gave way again, swallowing his fingers like a warm, dry fluid. He raised his head, careful with every breath, using only his mouth now. His nose was useless—clogged and searing. But as he inhaled carefully, he began to regain a sense of presence. And with that presence came memory. He remembered now. Where he was. What this place might be. He sighed, the frustration finally catching up to him. "Of all places I could have wound up... why did it have to be a desert?"