GTS Summoner Ch 9: The First Calamity, A Name in the Light!

Fire.

That's what it felt like, burning through every nerve, spreading through my limbs like molten metal. My muscles trembled under its intensity, my breaths coming faster, harder, my body betraying me with every moment that passed.

I was still standing, but only barely.

I could feel it—my knees threatening to buckle, my vision blurring at the edges, the weight of my own existence pressing down on me like an unbearable force.

Something was wrong.

And I knew exactly who was responsible.

My crimson eyes locked onto the scurrying mites below, the insignificant ones running for their fragile, fleeting lives. Inconsequential. Worthless. And yet, among them, he stood out.

The man with brown hair, dressed in dull grey rags.

The one who should have been dead by now.

The one who made my body burn.

My grip tightened around my sword, the runes carved into its metal flaring with blinding light, reacting to my rage, my hatred. The very air hummed with the weight of its power.

He needed to die.

I must kill him.

I forced myself upright, planting my feet into the shattered ground, ignoring the protests of my trembling body.

And then, with every ounce of fury inside me, I threw back my head and roared.

"I AM THE FIRST CALAMITY!"

The very air shook.

Windows shattered.

Stone walls cracked.

"I AM THE CALAMITY OF THOSE WHO HAVE DIED IN BATTLE—THE COLLECTION OF WOEFUL SCREAMS AND WAR CRIMES!"

The weight of my voice alone sent tremors through the broken city, dust and debris raining down like the heavens themselves had shattered.

"I AM THE CALAMITY OF SWORDS!"

My words were not merely spoken.

They were etched into existence.

A decree. A promise. A truth that could not be undone.

The power surged through me, overwhelming, suffocating, intoxicating.

And yet...

The fire still burned.

Raging.

Uncontrollable.

And it all led back to him.

***

The city was crumbling, and Markus ran.

The ground beneath him cracked and trembled with every deafening step of the giant knight pursuing him. The air was thick with dust and smoke, a suffocating blend of destruction and chaos. The weight of his sister in his arms made every step harder, every breath more labored, but he couldn't stop.

He wouldn't stop.

Behind him, steel boots the size of cars crushed everything in their path—flattening abandoned vehicles, splitting the asphalt like it was paper. Her strides were impossibly long, closing the distance between them far too quickly.

Markus risked a glance over his shoulder.

The knight's face was still red, her breaths ragged, her towering frame almost staggering as she moved. Her crimson eyes, once filled with merciless fury, now flickered with something else—frustration? Confusion?

She looked like she was struggling with something, but whatever it was, it wasn't stopping her.

"Shit," Markus muttered, forcing his legs to push harder.

But the ground was uneven, littered with shattered concrete and twisted metal. His foot caught on a jagged slab of debris.

He barely had time to register the fall before the sky darkened above him.

A massive shadow loomed over his body, and his blood ran cold.

Markus rolled onto his back, staring up at the underside of a steel boot the size of a damn house, hovering inches above him. The metal glinted in the dim light, debris crumbling off the edges.

This was it.

This was how he died.

With his sister in his arms, crushed under a titan's foot like a bug.

His instincts kicked in, and before he could even think, he yelled—

"GET AWAY!"

What happened next made no sense.

The knight's entire body jerked as if she had been punched in the stomach. Her breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

And then—

She stumbled.

Her enormous form wavered, balance lost, arms flailing as she fell backward.

The entire city seemed to shake apart as she collapsed.

Her colossal body slammed into the ruins of buildings, annihilating them in an instant. A massive cloud of dust and debris erupted into the air, swallowing entire blocks in darkness. Windows shattered for miles. Streetlights bent under the force.

And Markus—

Markus was thrown like a ragdoll.

The shockwave from her fall launched him off the ground, sending him hurtling through the air. He twisted, curling his body around his sister just before they both crashed into a pile of broken stone.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then—

A groan.

Not from Markus.

From her.

Through the settling dust, he could see the knight pushing herself up, steel-clad fingers digging into the ruined streets for support. Her blonde hair, once so perfectly tied, was now a mess of golden strands hanging over her flushed face.

And oh, she was pissed.

Her crimson eyes locked onto him, and Markus felt like a very small animal that had just pissed off a very, very large predator.

She stood to her full height again, the ground quaking beneath her boots.

Markus could feel the rage radiating off her like heat from a wildfire.

"Does she know when to give up?" he muttered to himself, staggering back onto his feet, his sister still cradled protectively in his arms.

The knight grabbed her massive sword from where it had embedded itself into the earth, lifting it with ease.

"If I can't get near you..." she declared, voice echoing like a thunderclap, "...then I'll finish you from here."

Markus watched as the runes on her blade began to glow.

A golden light, blinding and furious, pulsed along the edge of the weapon. The air around her shifted, twisting violently as the sheer power of the sword's magic warped reality itself.

And then, the wind howled.

It was no ordinary wind—this was a storm.

A violent hurricane erupted from the blade, ripping through the ruined city like an unseen monster. Rubble and cars were lifted into the air like weightless leaves.

Markus could barely stand his ground.

The pressure pushed against him, trying to drag him forward, to pull him toward the inevitable doom gathering at the edge of that sword.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.

She was going to wipe him out.

The knight raised the sword, its golden light now blinding, all-consuming.

Markus gritted his teeth, holding his sister closer.

Is this it?

The moment stretched, the light growing brighter, brighter—

And then, in the face of that overwhelming power, a single word echoed in his mind.

A name.

"Alethea..."