The goblin's rusty sword was still swinging wildly.
Time didn't stop. The world didn't pause for Dante to strategize.
The sword was real, heavy, and heading for his chest.
But Dante didn't look at it. He looked at the light that appeared in front of him.
His will pressed the button. The blue interface became his vision now.
The forest, the goblin, the pain in his hand, all faded into a blurry background.
The interface expanded, instantly accessing a large internal database.
453 names.
Portraits, avatars, forgotten save files; all of his gaming history gathered into a blinding torrent of light.
His mind fixated on one name.
Kaelen.
His main. His pride. His answer to this problem.
Her portrait glowed. The Level 99 Paladin, shining in max-tier Aethelgard armor, her hammer raised high in a pose of divine power.
A translucent panel appeared beside her image.
[Dame Kaelen the Just (Lv.99)]
[Summon Cost: 5000 Mana]
[Upkeep Cost: 100 Mana/hour]
Then his own pathetic stats flickered in the corner.
[Creator Mana: 10/10]
The goblin's sword was almost upon him.
'I'm a low-level free-to-play idiot!'
Cold dread sank into his stomach. This system wasn't a cheat code.
'Why????????'
He rolled hard, slamming his shoulder into the ground.
Klang!
The sword struck the dirt where his heart had been.
'Ugh, this is real!'
He scrambled back, using his hands to crawl across the ground.
A second goblin, wielding a club, moved to flank him.
He flipped through the interface, his mind racing.
Not Kaelen.
He checked Bloodrazer. [Cost: 5500 Mana.]
Morgana. [Cost: 4800 Mana.]
Aegis. [Cost: ???]
'Why can't I summon anything?!?!? What's the point of this system?!'
All useless!
The goblins were closing in. They could smell weakness.
Panic crushed him like a heavy weight.
Sure, he had the power system. But what good was it if he couldn't afford it?!
Wait.
[Command: Filter by Lowest Cost]
His mind screamed the input.
The list vanished. All the legends were gone. Now came the trash. His Level 1 bank alts. His failed builds. His dumbest, most forgotten experiments.
The Goblin with the club raised its weapon for a killing blow.
Dante scanned fast.
[Subject 9] (Lv.2 Slime)
Cost: 3 Mana.
No. That's a puddle.
[Pebbles] (Lv.1 Golem)
Cost: 5 Mana.
Too small. It'll be crushed.
[Rin-Rin] (Lv.20 Idol)
Cost: 10 Mana.
Affordable. But she'll sparkle and die in one hit.
He scrolled faster. The club was getting closer.
Then he saw it.
[Shivvy] (Lv.3 Rogue)
Cost: 5 Mana.
He froze. He remembered the name. Barely. Ten years ago. He had made her in Aethelgard just to pick a chest lock.
A random Rogue he named "Shivvy." He leveled her to 3, opened one chest, and parked her at the auction house forever.
She had been nothing but a glorified storage locker.
But she cost 5 Mana. And he had 10.
I have no choice. It's the only 1-Mana Gacha pull I can afford.
Dante clenched his teeth.
SUMMON.
The world tore open.
A dry, ripping sound filled the air, like reality being de-rendered.
His Mana bar plummeted.
[Creator Mana: 5/10]
A blue upkeep line, [1 Mana/Hour], began to tick down in the corner.
The Goblins shrieked, clutching their ears.
The light that spilled out wasn't divine, but it was glitched and flickering.
It leaked into a humanoid shape. Then solidified.
A girl stood there.
Small. Maybe sixteen. She was wearing the default Aethelgard leather gear: a torn jerkin, scuffed bracers, and a cheap iron dagger she hadn't drawn. Her face was pale and dirty, her brown hair tied in a weak, half-hearted ponytail.
She was trembling like a leaf.
Her hazel eyes darted from Goblin to Goblin, then landed on Dante's bleeding arm.
'No. This isn't just a summon. It's just a little girl!'
A little girl who is alive and afraid. A little girl that he had created, then abandoned, and forgotten for ten years.
His chest was tight with suffocating guilt.
The little girl, Shivvy, looked at him. Recognition flashed across her face.
Awe. Disbelief. A hint of absolute pure Worship.
Her voice cracked. "C-c-creator?"
The Goblins recovered. Their eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
They saw her weak armor, her shaking legs, and the dagger she hadn't even reached for.
Suddenly they split targets.
One for Dante. One for her.
The club-wielder took a step forward.
Shivvy backed into a tree, her eyes squeezed shut.
And instead of a battle cry or a spell, what came out of her mouth was a pathetic high-pitched squeak.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
Dante's heart sank.
He had spent half his available magic to summon a girl who couldn't even stand.
He had pulled a failure.