A Dual Crest Summoner In Infinite Summoning World

3 Years Later..

"Okay, let's do this. If you manage to land a hit on me—you can come along any day," Dante said, pointing a long wooden stick at him, the same one he usually used to train Auren.

Auren held his own pitch-black sword, its edges dulled for practice. Dante had insisted he use this sword instead of a wooden one to get a better feel for it—so he'd be ready when he truly needed to fight with it.

It had been three years since he started his own farm with Boros. It had been a huge success. The crop rotation method was confirmed by him and shown to the whole village—a new method of farming. He didn't just instruct but also explained to the simple villagers, in simple words, why they needed to do it that way. He described the lack of nitrogen in the soil as "Land needs rest," and the legumes and millet growing after wheat as "Land needs treats." To be honest, he was not capable of explaining the real science even if he tried.

In three years, he had summoned his black particles every single day—twice a day for the first year, and three times a day for the other two years—since the amount of Chi in his body had increased with natural growth and his constant practice of manipulating it.

However, once the total amount of black particles he summoned reached 10 kg—he could not summon any more. Well, actually, he could, but the second they were summoned, they vanished into thin air. As if some weird restriction had been placed on him by something. All other normal object summoners could summon their objects infinitely—but then again, he was never normal to begin with.

Auren moved like lightning, Chi pulsing through his legs as he launched forward. His dulled black blade cut a clean arc toward Dante's side, faster than it had ever been before.

Dante raised the wooden stick in time—but not without effort. The impact jolted up his arm. He grunted, deflecting the blow, only to have Auren twist mid-motion and come at him again. Another strike. Then another. Precise. Relentless.

Chi surged through Auren's wrist and shoulder, adding brutal weight to every swing. He wasn't just fast—he was precise now. Measured. Dangerous.

Dante ducked, sidestepped, parried—and for the first time in a long while, he had to think.

Auren dropped low, Chi flaring through his knee, and swept in from below. Dante leapt back, narrowly avoiding a strike that would've caught his ribs.

He landed hard, skidding in the dirt. His eyes narrowed. 'So that's how it is now.'

Auren didn't pause. He was already moving, blade flashing, his Chi shifting between joints with practiced instinct. The black sword came in high, then low, then reversed with a flick of the wrist so smooth even Dante misread it.

For a heartbeat, Auren saw the opening.

He struck.

Dante twisted—and barely, barely—caught the blow. The stick shook in his hand. He spun with the momentum and tapped Auren's ribs in one clean motion.

"Dead," he breathed, chest rising just slightly.

Auren froze, panting, eyes wide.

Dante lowered his stick, sweat glinting at his brow. "That was a real fight."

Auren clenched his jaw. He had pushed harder than ever. Every time, every single time—it was like Dante always knew what he would do, no matter how fast he was or how precise. He had no hopes of defeating an orange-rank summoner who had a slightly enhanced body—but landing one hit should have been possible. Especially after he had trained relentlessly for five years now, compared to when he had started for the first time.

These past three years, he had seen improvements in himself, but they were never enough to trouble Dante. The guy was ridiculous. This chapter first appeared on M|V|L^EMPYR.

"Dada! Aone!" a childish voice called with the kind of enthusiasm only a kid could show.

Auren turned to the side and smiled, seeing the infectious grin on the red-haired brat. It was his little brother. Round chubby face with bright silver eyes. Unlike Auren's dark hair and slightly darker complexion like Dante and Granny, his little brother—Theren—had bright red hair and pale white skin like Sable.

And he was a proper kid—not like Auren himself, a pre-recorded tape. That smile was genuine.

Theren was in Granny's lap, clapping while watching them practice in their front yard. Sable was, as always, busy with this or that housework. That woman did not understand the concept of 'having rest once in a while.

"Auren? Are you ready?" Kenjo shouted from the other side of the fence. He was still halfway through the grass field between their houses.

"Yeah, just wait a second," Auren replied loudly.

They were both eight years old now. For the past year, they had started attending class—an old scribe in the village conducted it for the kids. They were required to go there until they turned ten years old. Dante himself had made that rule and was very serious about seeing it through. The villagers made their children work from an early age—Dante at least wanted them to know about history and the world a little before joining their family trade.

Even though Auren could already read and write fluently, Dante and Sable wanted him to attend and be with other kids his age. It wasn't as annoying as he had imagined it to be. The things the old scribe said added to the information he was always in search of about the world he was in. And it turns out you can have a lot of fun messing with kids even if you're an adult.

Actually, it was much more fun for him to instigate comical fights and hear the funny little cuss words the kids tried to say to each other—words they had heard their parents use.

Auren washed himself a little and placed the black sword back in the house. He had a pitch-black bracer on his left arm, made of his summoned particles. Sable had given him an idea to incorporate it with leather and pieces of steel to make it look like some fancy real bracer instead of an odd black thing that anyone could notice.

Just like the little black thread tied around his right hand—it was something Damian had decided to use only in serious need. The sword particles were enough for him to practice.

Wiping his face, Auren stepped out of the fence gate where Kenjo was leaning and chatting with Dante and Granny. When his eyes caught the distant high wall behind Kenjo's house—he could not help but feel proud.