GTS Summoner Ch 3: The Calamity Of Swords!

(Mark) I couldn't move. My legs were frozen like I'd just been cemented into the ground, and all I could do was stare up at the giant woman

(Mark)

I couldn't move. My legs were frozen like I'd just been cemented into the ground, and all I could do was stare up at the giant woman who towered above me, her massive figure blocking out the sun. The silver of her armor gleamed like polished mirrors, reflecting the carnage all around us. Every piece of that armor was flawless, carved with intricate symbols that seemed to twist and shimmer when I looked too long at them. Her eyes—God, those eyes—glowed red, a burning crimson that made it clear she wasn't here to help.

Her sword, nearly the length of a city block, was gripped tightly in her right hand. It was a monster of a weapon, its steel blade etched with the same kind of strange, curling patterns as her armor. Those symbols weren't just for show; they seemed alive, humming with energy that I could almost feel in my bones.

I didn't know what was worse—the fact that something like her even existed or that she was looking directly at me.

Her gaze locked onto me like a predator sizing up prey, and I swear I could feel my heart trying to claw its way out of my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Every inch of my body was screaming at me to run, but I couldn't seem to make my legs work.

Then she moved.

The giant knight began to raise her blade. Slowly, deliberately. Her movements were almost graceful, like a dancer performing a routine she'd practiced a thousand times. The sword rose higher and higher, casting a shadow over me that felt like it stretched for miles.

"Oh shit!" I yelled, finally snapping out of my stupor. My legs kicked into gear just as she swung.

I dove to the side, hitting the ground hard. The moment her sword connected with the earth, the world exploded.

The sound was deafening, a massive boom that rattled my skull and made my ears ring like church bells. The ground shook so violently I thought it might crack open and swallow me whole. Dirt and loose concrete erupted into the sky, raining down in heavy chunks that pelted my back as I tried to shield myself.

For a second, I just lay there, face pressed into the rubble-strewn ground, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My entire body felt like jelly, and my mind was a scrambled mess of panic and disbelief.

Finally, I managed to lift my head, coughing as dust filled my lungs. "What the hell was that?!" I muttered, though I already knew the answer. I pushed myself up to my knees and glanced back toward the street.

What had been an almost-intact road moments ago was now a disaster zone. A deep trench, wide enough to swallow several cars side by side, carved through the asphalt. The edges were jagged and smoking, and the farther I looked, the more it disappeared into shadow. I shuffled forward, my legs still shaky, and peeked over the edge.

The trench was so deep I couldn't even see the bottom. Just darkness.

I swallowed hard, taking a shaky step back. My legs felt like they might give out any second, but somehow, I stayed standing. "Okay... sure. That's normal. A giant knight woman with a massive sword just made a canyon in the middle of the street. Nothing weird about that."

Sarcasm. It was my go-to when everything else failed. And right now? Everything else was definitely failing.

I turned my attention back to her. She was already moving again, her massive armored boots thudding against the ground as she walked deeper into the city. Each step sent a faint tremor through the earth, the kind you could feel in your bones. It wasn't as bad as when she'd first appeared, but it was still enough to make me feel small. Insignificant.

I should've felt relieved that she wasn't coming after me anymore, but instead, I felt something worse—dread.

I watched as she disappeared into the distance, her massive frame shrouded by the swirling smoke and chaos she'd left in her wake. The farther she got, the more I could feel her footsteps fading, the booms becoming less and less frequent. But that didn't make me feel better.

If anything, it made me feel worse.

Because wherever she was going, it wasn't good.

And deep down, I knew one thing for sure.

She wasn't done yet.

***

(Knight)

The giant knight strode through the ruined city, her every step creating small craters in the ground. The pavement buckled beneath her massive armored boots, sending chunks of concrete flying with every footfall. Her sheer presence radiated power, her towering figure slicing through the smoke and chaos like a silver-plated specter of destruction.

The streets trembled beneath her as she walked, her glowing red eyes scanning the buildings around her. Most of them were still standing, though they were far from untouched. Windows were shattered, walls cracked, and the faint sounds of creaking steel echoed through the streets. To the knight, these structures seemed defiant in their survival—a defiance she couldn't allow to stand.

She stopped in the middle of a wide avenue, her silver armor gleaming despite the layers of dust and soot settling on its surface. With deliberate precision, she planted her feet and took on a fighting stance. Her massive sword, still humming faintly with the energy of its last swing, lowered to her side. Her muscles tensed beneath the armor, bulging with strength as if she were coiled like a spring, ready to unleash her fury.

Her glowing eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile—more like the cold satisfaction of a warrior who knew the outcome of a fight before it even began. The sword rose, its intricate symbols glowing faintly, as if feeding off the destruction around it.

And then she swung.

The blade tore through the air with a sound that could only be described as devastating. It wasn't just the weight of the weapon or the force of the swing—it was everything. The wind itself seemed to scream in protest, whipped into a frenzy by the sheer velocity of the strike. A shockwave burst forth, obliterating everything in its path.

Buildings that had survived the initial chaos were cut down in an instant, their steel frames twisting like paper before they crumbled into piles of rubble. Cars were tossed like toys, flung through the air as though they weighed nothing. The street beneath her cracked open in jagged lines, splitting apart as though the ground itself was trying to escape her wrath.

The destruction was absolute, but it wasn't random. Every swing of her sword was calculated, precise—a symphony of violence conducted by a warrior who had perfected her art over countless ages. To her, this wasn't chaos. It was a performance.

She stepped forward again, her glowing eyes fixated on the small, fragile figures scrambling below. People. Tiny, desperate humans, darting between the rubble, screaming and tripping over each other in their haste to escape.

She didn't see them as people, though. To her, they were insects. Pathetic little creatures, scurrying about in futility. Their fear meant nothing. Their pain, less.

They would suffer. That was her function. That was her purpose.

Another swing, and the air seemed to split open, the force of her strike ripping through the city with the precision of a surgeon and the fury of a storm. Where her weapon struck, there was only devastation—buildings toppled, streets disappeared, and the cries of the fleeing were swallowed by the roar of destruction.

She stood amidst the ruins she had created, the wind swirling around her, carrying with it the ash and smoke of a once-thriving city. Her glowing eyes surveyed her handiwork, unblinking, as if searching for anything left untouched.nu

She was the First Calamity, the Calamity of Swords.

And her work was far from finished.