The First Summoner (Eng Version)

Monsters and Summoners are classified as follows:

Iron:

The Iron rank is divided into Classes I through IX; the higher the class, the stronger the monster within that rank. The same logic applies to the higher ranks—Bronze, Silver, and Gold.

Monsters above the Gold rank:

- Champion: formidable creatures regarded as key figures within their species.

- Supreme: as the name implies, the pinnacle of power in the mortal realm.

- Transcendent: possess an ethereal quality that renders them immune to common physical weapons.

- Immortal: cannot be killed unless their origin is destroyed. For summoners—who become the monster's origin—even if the monster's body is destroyed, gathering enough mana restores it.

Legendary Ranks:

Above all of the above lie Demi-God and Divinity—ranks spoken of only in legend.

Summoner Ranks:

- Novice

- Specialist

- Master

- Grand Master

- Emperor

The main difference among these ranks is summoning capacity: a Novice may only bind one monster, whereas an Emperor can maintain up to five simultaneously.

This limit ties directly to mana storage. When a human channels mana, they form mana cores—each core anchoring a single summon. If a bound monster dies, its core is lost forever, reducing the summoner's maximum summons.

For Novices, this is critical: losing their sole summon can permanently halt their advancement.

Advancement itself comes from consuming crystals—found in the remains of slain wild monsters or in natural deposits. The more powerful the summoner, the greater the number of crystals required to evolve.

*****

Marcelo learned much from the little brochure the receptionist had handed him. After the incident, he returned to the desk, where the evaluator asked him to wait while his registration was processed.

In a refined office furnished in modern European style, Jamil was conferring with another man wearing thin-framed square spectacles. His long hair lent him an air of erudition, and his black suit with bow tie would have stolen the hearts of any romantic heroine.

"Truly… quite interesting."

"Quite?" Jamil protested.

"Hahaha! A Master with a summoning brick certainly has exotic taste," Dragomir laughed.

"So what do we do? Issue him a Master credential? It'd be odd… a big name working for us."

"I don't know his intentions, but all he's done is teach us a lesson for underestimating him. He's shown his power and followed the rules," Dragomir mused.

"Then he can keep his badge, and we'll grant him privileges. I think he'll appreciate that," Jamil continued.

"I want to meet him. Have him come to me," Dragomir ordered.

"As you wish," Jamil replied, leaving the office and heading back to reception. There he found Marcelo in tattered, dirt-streaked clothes—a common sight, since the guild's missions ranged from menial tasks to dangerous hunts, and many applicants looked far worse off than Marcelo.

An old man passed by, his shirt riddled with holes and burn scars, one pant leg missing, his face smudged with black soot. He grumbled, "Damn salamanders—at least they pay well!" and departed.

Jamil greeted Marcelo.

"Come with me to see the Guild Master; he wishes to speak with you."

"The Guild Master? Did that incident get his attention?" Marcelo's heart raced. What would the Master want? To charge him for the wall repairs? He had nothing but the clothes on his back—dirty, hungry, exhausted—longing only to wash, eat, and sleep.

Still, he wondered: was this man some superhuman? Surviving that monster's attack and knocking out a high-level beast with a brick?

His mind spun. He hadn't slept since regaining consciousness among the ruins, nor could he recall anything prior to waking—only his name.

"Ridiculous!" he thought.

As he followed Jamil, a thousand wild ideas flashed through his head. Was he the hero of a light novel? A transmigrant from another world, blessed with a system granting him extraordinary powers?

"Huh? Where do these ideas come from? Light novel? System?" His head threatened to explode. He forced himself to stop thinking and focus on the man seated in an armchair—a man who appeared as soon as Jamil opened the door.

"Thank you," Dragomir said, and Jamil left them alone.

"Please, have a seat," Dragomir invited.

Marcelo shyly pulled a wooden chair beside the armchair and sat. It was beautiful—and surprisingly comfortable.

"I'll be direct, Marcelo: I don't care about your plans, as long as you help the guild. You're welcome here—but don't think you can do whatever you like," Dragomir said, meeting Marcelo's gaze.

Marcelo felt deeply intimidated. The Guild Master must be furious about the wall; he probably thought it was deliberate.

"I'm sorry, Guild Master. I apologize and will work to pay for the repairs," Marcelo said, trying to sound dignified.

"Repairs?" Dragomir murmured to himself. "He's a master of playing the fool, but I won't fall for such an obvious act. He might make a great actor. He may pretend to be a mere Novice with a useless monster, but his actions proved otherwise. A mysterious Master appears, his fearsome beast disguised as a brick. I'd like to see where he goes with this."

A Master is revered everywhere—as part of the elite. Is he hiding? Over something so ridiculous? Dragomir decided to stop speculating.

"I'll give you the keys to a small, discreet house on the city outskirts, since you value your privacy." He opened a drawer in the desk, pulled out an unassuming key, and handed it to Marcelo. "Collect your ID from reception."

Marcelo was bewildered. Was this normal? He'd smashed a wall—and earned a house! If he kept breaking things, what else might he gain? The thought evaporated. Better hurry before Dragomir changed his mind. Fortune was on his side—but for how long?

He walked up to the counter, where the young receptionist was staring at him. Now, on closer inspection, Marcelo could better appreciate her features. She might not be what everyone considers a great beauty, but she had a captivating charm: short black hair, small yet sweet eyes, rosy cheeks, and curves that emphasized her femininity, with ample breasts highlighted by her uniform.

"I'm here to pick up my card," Marcelo said.

The girl, visibly nervous, quickly grabbed a small black card stamped with a red star on the front. On the back were the details Marcelo recognized as his own.

But strangely, on the back, only his name was correct.

Who the hell is a Master? And who owns a supreme mystical beast?

Marcelo asked if everything was in order, whether they'd mixed up his details with someone else's, but the receptionist assured him that it was all correct. She introduced herself as Camila and offered to answer any questions he might have.

Still confused, Marcelo simply requested the location of the house the Guild Master had mentioned; with Camila's help, he was able to set off.

Without delay, he passed through the guild's elegant doors and headed toward his new home.

Moments after he left, a flurry of conversation broke out in the reception area:

" A Transcendent monster?" one incredulous voice asked.

" There's someone so powerful here!" croaked another from the back.

" Imagine what an incredible beast! I bet it's a dragon, a chimera, or a phoenix!" said an excited tone.

" Yeah—he knocked out Jamil's main summon," remarked someone else.

"I heard it was Jamil's wife's old flame, come back to fight for her love. They even argued."

"Since he's a Master, he'll probably end up wife-less."

"I saw him! He's handsome—I'd elope with him in a heartbeat."

"Poor Jamil— cuckolded"

"Scars are the marks of a warrior; they'll hurt, but they'll stand as symbols of your victory

Jamil, overhearing, couldn't fathom how things had escalated… He doesn't even have a wife.

Marcelo, upon reaching the door, realized it was a modern yet simple two-story house, surrounded by similar buildings. Inside, he noticed the rooms were fully furnished, but the layer of dust showed no one had used the place in a long time.

He explored every room and, upon entering the kitchen, saw that the cabinets still held some food.

After checking expiration dates, he found that some items were still good—though not everything was edible.

He washed the dishes he found and grabbed a pot, then gathered the available ingredients to prepare his meal.

Rummaging through the cabinets, he discovered a bar of soap and headed to the bathroom. It had been so long since he'd had a proper shower… He turned on the tap and felt the steam rise, creating an incredibly comforting sensation!

After drying off with a cloth he used as a towel, he went to the bedroom and rifled through the stored clothing. He chose a pair of beige pants that fit him like a tent and a shirt that looked large enough for two people.

But he didn't care—now all he wanted was to lie down and rest.

* * *

In a conference room at the Imperial Knights' central headquarters, several men gathered for a discussion.

The man with stubble spoke, exasperated:

"That was nothing more than a natural disaster… but did someone draw it here?"

Another man, heavyset and clean-shaven, asked plainly:

"Draw an Immortal monster? What could do that? A massive mana source? The death of a demi-god? Whatever way you slice it, it's absurd!"

The stubbled man replied:

"Everything you mentioned is natural. But what if it was triggered by a human?"

An unsettling silence fell over the table.

Then the older gentleman at the head of the table, dressed in a formal military uniform adorned with medals, spoke:

"Notify the three Masters in Auria about the Sunis incident and have them watch for anyone suspicious. We'll take further action once the investigation is complete. Until then, tell everyone it was merely misfortune."