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Now reading: Chapter 173: Let The Harvest Begin! from Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made, a Fantasy novel by steelromerc.

Taking his seat, Lancet watched as Luke took his place at the front of the Summoner-D team. His posture was rigid, his focus entirely locked on the empty expanse before him.

It was no surprise that Miss Maecil had chosen him to lead Summoner-D for this phase of the competition. Over the last weeks, Lancet had gained three more Weapon Summons to add to his forr two.

He’d gotten a legendary shield called the Gilded Aegis, a bow and arrow titled the Forestseeker, and a pair of daggers called Devil’s Fangs.

All three of them had extrely powerful abilities that placed them at the A-Grade, making them top tier weapons that would sell for thousands of Notes. The Gilded Aegis however, was actually an S-Grade, and his most powerful Weapon Summon.

Kasto was the one who had told Lancet about Luke’s impressive growth, acting as a bridge to help reunite the old roommates.

Luke didn’t seem interested in being friends again, and as much as that bothered Lancet, he knew not to push the Arsenal.

Luke took his position with the rest of the team. To his left, Min Tu stood with her arms folded, and behind them, Cassandra Bridge clutched her necklace catalyst with anticipation.

Directly opposite them, the Elentalist-D team stepped forward from the crowd. There was no sign of Kallan this ti; his recent failures had clearly cost him his spot on the roster.

Instead, Frieda led the team. Beside her stood Cillian, Cecil’s twin brother, and at the back was Billard, a heavily built Earth Mage whose boots seed to sink an inch into the platform as if the tal were yielding to his weight.

Lancet watched intently from the elevated spectator stands, his eyes drifting toward the third ring where the Specialist-D team erged. His brows raised slightly in half-surprise when he saw Renan step onto the platform.

’Renan again,’ Lancet thought, frowning just a little. It seed a little overkill to use your most powerful student in two competitions in a row. But he rembered that Renan had single-handedly carried his Class-Group through the competitions in the novel.

And with the endless rush of Grace, it was unlikely that he ever got tired.

Standing beside him was Sienna Starbridge, holding her bow with readiness, and Locke, a stern-faced Swordsman with his hand resting on the hilt of his blade unlatched from its scabbard.

Finally, the Enchanter-D team filled the last corner. Soren was at the flank, his hands glowing with a soft, pale green healing light as he pre-applied vitality buffs to his squad. Amira stood at the center, scanning the other teams. Next to her was Jon-Mark, a Rune Carver.

Lancet pouted thoughtfully. "This seems like it’s going to be tough. Every team looks really stacked."

The crowd around the platform stirred louder as all four class groups finally took their positions.

The floating caras drifted into place overhead, their lenses adjusting and refocusing as the announcer’s voice swelled back across the stadium.

"Awakeners!" he called, the sound booming through every tier of the platform. "For the second phase of the Inter-Class Competitions, the Tribute Harvest Battles shall now begin!"

The great battlefield beneath them began to change.

The flat arena surface shifted first, plates of magitech rune-steel sliding apart with a low chanical hum. Sections of land rose in broad, jagged waves, expanding outward until the competition platform no longer looked like a simple arena at all.

It beca a vast island mass suspended in the sky, broad and uneven, with terrain that stretched in all directions like the broken body of a continent.

The edges dropped away into open air.

Four distinct regions ford almost at once, one for each class group, their territory-like boundaries marked by shifting terrain walls and rune-lit borders. It looked less like a school event and more like a fictional war map brought to life.

One side beca rocky and elevated. Another spread into a denser stretch of trees and shadowed ground. A third opened into a rougher, more open field with broken stone paths and exposed ridges.

The fourth looked more structured, with ruins and carved markings embedded into the terrain as though the island itself had been built to test control and movent.

The students in the seats gasped with amazent, leaning forward to see, shouting to let out their excitent.

The platform’s transformation did not stop there. The center of the island changed too, its surface shifting into a heavily fortified central zone where glowing Tribute Coins began to appear in clusters and scattered lines.

So were visible imdiately, gleaming in bright gold-tal colors compared to the rest of the terrain. Others were hidden beneath overhangs, behind stone formations, or half-buried in the landscape like prizes waiting to be fought over.

Lancet watched it all with amazent, rembering how it was described in the novel. "This is so cool."

It felt nice to see things like this—it took him off more difficult and troubling things: like his broken Grace Channels or having sex with Espel.

The announcer’s voice returned, loud with delight. "At the four corners of the battlefield, Tribute Coins are scattered in abundance! So will be exposed. So will require effort. So will be guarded by beasts!"

A pulse ran through the terrain.

As if on cue, the island responded to his words.

Shapes moved in the shadows at the far edges of the map. Small beasts erged from the terrain, then larger ones, all of them prowling, stalking, or stirring near the Tribute clusters as though the battlefield itself had decided to protect what it offered.

The announcer continued, his tone rising with excitent. "Slaying beasts will earn points, of course! But recovering Tribute Coins will earn far more!"

That made the crowd react even louder.

"However," he added, sounding almost gleeful now, "the largest haul of Tribute Coins lies at the very center of the island!"

The central zone glowed brighter for a mont.

"There is no monster guarding it. The first team to reach it claims it—provided they can carry it safely back to their clan land!"

A wave of noise swept through the stadium.

Students were already talking strategy now, already evaluating the risk. The center would be the fastest way to accumulate a huge lead, but it was also the most obvious target. Once a team took those coins, the others would be free to ambush them and strip the haul away if they could catch them on the return.

The announcer did not bother hiding the tension in the rules.

"And yes," he said, almost cheerfully, "the other teams are completely allowed to ambush one another and steal Tribute Coins away. Claiming coins is important."

He paused to let the point sharpen.

"But so is protecting them!"

The giant island lay below them now, full of hidden movent, dangerous beasts, glowing coin caches, and routes that could beco traps the second a team got greedy.

The atmosphere in the stands had beco electric.

Students leaned over rails, instructors watched in silence, and the floating caras drifted low enough to catch every expression on the Class Groups below. Even Lancet felt the pressure build in his chest. He adjusted in his seat, ready to be entertained.

The announcer lifted his voice one last ti.

"Let the Harvest begin!"

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