Chương 3: Chapter 2 —Summoning Corrupted

The words flickered across her ceiling in sharp, glowing letters, as if someone had burned the letters into the chipped paint and glow-in-the-dark stars. Chelsea's breath caught.

"What in the world?" she whispered. She sat up quickly, heart thudding, but the words vanished the instant she moved. The ceiling was plain again, silent and still. Chelsea rubbed her eyes hard, pressing her palms until sparks flashed behind her lids. When she opened them, the ceiling was still plain. Just plaster, chipped paint, the off white stars and the faint shadow of the ceiling fan.

"Lack of sleep," she muttered, shaking her head. Her gaze drifted toward the door.

"Have to start dinner," she added, more to ground herself than anything. With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the floor cold against her socks, and pushed herself upright. Halfway across the room, more words appeared. Not on the ceiling this time… it was on the door, the wall, everywhere she looked. Summoning target viable. Summoning initiated. Welcome, candidate. Please choose… Please choose… Please choose…………… Summoning corrupted. Error. Error. Error. Chelsea froze.

Her breath caught in her throat as the letters shimmered and pulsed. When she shifted her gaze, they shifted too. They weren't on the door or the walls... they were inside her vision, written across the world itself. It looked sort of like that font those little black screens use on computers use when booting up a program sometimes.

"What... what is this?" she whispered. Her chest tightened. Without warning, a circle of light burst into existence beneath her feet. It was sharp and geometric, glowing a brilliant blue, etched with intricate lines and curling symbols that twisted in ways she couldn't follow. It was the kind of design she'd only ever seen in fantasy movies or anime... the kind of thing you never expected to stand in. Her survival instinct kicked in. She jumped back, heart hammering, but the circle followed.

Step right, step left... it moved with her, fixed under her no matter how she tried to escape.

"No, no, no…" she gasped. The blue deepened to a blinding white. She squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't matter... her eyelids were as transparent as glass. Light seared through, flooding every nerve. Then came the sounds. At first it was a low murmur, then clearer... voices. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them, overlapping in excited tones, like an audience?

"What exactly is happening?" Chelsea cried, panic cracking her voice. Through the static of voices, one stood out: older, measured, hushed.

"A female? And was that… Bontune?" Chelsea's pulse thundered in her ears.

"Hello? Someone... someone please help me!" She screamed, her words shaking, but the voices didn't answer. They weren't even talking to her.

"Oh, she's taking form now," someone said, their tone sharp with excitement. A ripple of cheers followed, rising and falling like a wave.

"Congratulations, Alexi," another voice boomed with authority.

"Your name will be written about for generations. This is quite the feat." They weren't talking to her. She wasn't even sure they could hear her. The brightness began to ebb, fading like smoke after a flare. The world took shape again, edges hardening, shadows forming. Chelsea blinked, squinting as her vision adjusted. She was no longer in her bedroom. Vast stone walls rose around her, arching high into a vaulted ceiling. Stained glass windows burned with colored light from a setting sun.

The floor beneath her feet was cold, polished stone, inlaid with patterns she didn't recognize. She stood in the middle of what looked like a cathedral, though the air was heavier, older... less holy and more ominous. Dozens of figures circled her, all robed in gray and black, their hoods drawn low. Faces gleamed pale beneath them, eyes fixed on her with a hunger that made her stomach twist.

"What's happening? Who are all of you people?" Chelsea demanded, her voice wavering but louder than she felt. She planted her feet, summoning what little courage she could scrape together.

"A…" someone whispered in surprise. Another voice, higher and sharper, finished the thought: "Demon!?" Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Chelsea's heart stumbled.

"A demon?" she repeated, blinking at them.

"Me?" She spun in place, scanning the sea of unreadable expressions. Some looked awed, some wary, others flat with calculation.

"No. I'm... no, I'm human. Since the day I was born. Where am I?" The authoritative voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.

"Assessor. Go check her over." Chelsea glanced down at herself, heart thudding in her chest. She was still in her school uniform... the plaid skirt, the white blouse, the grey sweater vest... but something about it was off. The fabric hung differently, looser, as though her body had shifted inside it. Even her socks seemed to slide a bit when she moved. Her gaze flicked lower and caught on the flatness of her stomach. She blinked. She wasn't about to complain, but that was the least of her worries.

What did they mean by demon?

"Y-yes, your excellency," a woman near the front of the robed crowd said, her voice careful, deferential. Slowly, she stepped forward, drawing back her hood to reveal dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes stayed fixed on Chelsea, cautious but steady.

"Good demon," she soothed, her tone like one might use on a spooked animal.

"I'm not going to hurt you, miss demon. Only going to check your stats." She raised both hands, palms outward, showing they were empty. Chelsea took an instinctive step back, her fists balling.

"What is your deal? Why are you acting like I'm going to bite you? I told you I'm human!" Her own voice startled her. There was a stiffness in her mouth, like her lips and jaw didn't quite belong to her. Words came out with a thickness, muffled around the edges. Panic prickled up her spine.

"Be careful, Jess," someone warned sharply from the circle of onlookers. Chelsea spun toward the sound, exasperation flaring.

"Seriously!? Can you not understand me?" The pitch of her voice cracked, sharper than she meant. The woman, Jess, halted mid-step. Her face drained of color, eyes wide, as if Chelsea's outburst had been a direct threat. The air in the cathedral thickened with unease, the crowd rippling with whispers.

"Ahem, your excellency," came a voice from behind the tallest robed figure near the dais. A man stepped forward, bowing slightly. His accent was heavier, his words deliberate.

"I do speak a bit of Bontune. She isn't acting hostile. She is… confused. Scared. With your permission, may I explain the matter of the assessor?" Chelsea's breath caught. They don't understand me. That's the problem. Yet she understood every word spilling from their mouths. She was speaking the same language. Her mouth was mouthing the exact same words... and yet nothing was landing. Why did she understand them and they couldn't understand her? She seized her chance, fixing her gaze on the man who had spoken.

"I can understand every word you're saying," she pleaded, desperation bleeding into her tone.

"I'm not a demon. I'm human." The man listened, brow furrowed, then turned to the crowd.

"Something about understanding all our words," he translated.

"Not demon. Human. Very broken Bontune." The room buzzed, whispers breaking out like sparks.

"You can understand us?" the man standing nearest to the glowing summoning circle called out. His robes were more ornate, silver embroidery catching the light. Chelsea recognized the respect in the way the others turned toward him. Maybe this was Alexi.

"Yes. Every word," she said firmly, her voice rising above the murmurs. The translator relayed it, a little clumsier: "Yes. All of the words."

"You say you are not a demon, but a human?" Alexi asked, his voice calm but weighted.

"Yes." The word came out clear, universal. Judging by the murmur of recognition, it needed no translation. More mumbling erupted. Alexi lifted a hand, silencing the room.

"Please, let me explain the situation to you," he said, his tone shifting into the smooth cadence of someone used to commanding an audience.

"My name is Alexi, lead magus for the Nordrak Mages Guild. We are in great need of a champion chosen by the gods. We completed a summoning ritual, and you are who they chose. You say you are human, but you stand before us in the form of a demon. This woman here is an assessor. She will determine your current abilities and skills. Please allow her to approach you." Chelsea's throat tightened. She looked from Alexi's steady, commanding gaze to the woman who still hovered warily near her.

Her body screamed don't, but she forced herself to inhale slowly.

"O-okay," she whispered. The translator conveyed her agreement, and Jess's shoulders lowered slightly. She stepped closer, moving with more confidence now, and lifted a hand.

"Just relax your mind and stare straight," Jess said, her voice slow, each syllable drawn out, as if Chelsea were hard of hearing. Chelsea fought the urge to roll her eyes but obeyed. She fixed her gaze on the far wall, willing herself to stillness. For a few tense seconds, nothing happened. Then…

Letters flickered into existence across her vision, the same glowing script she had seen back in her bedroom but in a golden box: Status Name: Chelsea Drake ▸ Race: Infernal Hellspawn Demon Class: — Profession: — Title: — Level: 1 (Fixed) Attributes Physical • Strength: 1 Her lungs seized. Chelsea staggered a step back, heart lurching into her throat. Jess's hand dropped, but she was looking off into space. As if she were reading those things still.

"The Eyes," someone breathed from the crowd, their voice trembling with reverence. The murmurs changed from fearful to awestruck, rippling through the chamber like a tide.

"This is a very good sign," Alexi said, his tone filled with approval. Jess, however, had gone rigid. A sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. She looked like she might faint. Her eyes locked on Chelsea, distant and horrified, as though she'd glimpsed something she wished she hadn't. Chelsea didn't need to guess. She'd seen it too. Infernal Hellspawn.

"Jess," Alexi said, his voice edged with concern now.

"What is it? What did you see?" The room fell silent, every robed figure turning toward the assessor, waiting.

"L-Lord Alexi," Jess stammered, then corrected herself, "Your Excellency… may I speak with you both privately?" Alexi's expression tightened, though his voice remained calm.

"Very well." He gave a short gesture, and Jess, along with the tall man at his side, followed him toward a shadowed alcove carved into the cathedral wall. Their robes whispered against the stone as they withdrew, heads bent together in urgent conversation. Chelsea stood rooted in place, her heart hammering so hard she swore the whole room could hear it. Her anxiety pressed down like a weight on her chest. They were talking about her. She caught fragments of words..." demon," "unprecedented," "impossible"...

but they blurred together under the roar of her pulse. She dropped her gaze to her hands, desperate for something to anchor herself. In the golden candlelight and what little light came from the stained glass windows, her skin didn't look monstrous... still pale, still human. But when she turned her palms over, she froze. Her fingernails, normally short and ragged from chewing, now tapered into neat, perfect points, darkened to a glossy black. They were actually really pretty, but they weren't hers. Demons.

What else did demons have?