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Now reading: Chapter 3: I Bet He Summons Rats from Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made, a Fantasy novel by steelromerc.

The officials began organizing the aspirants into lines based on their predetermined Class Groups.

Max answered when Lancet Leogardt was called. Next thing he knew, he was sandwiched in between a tall broad-shouldered guy and a girl who was so heavy-chested that he couldn’t dare move else be branded as a pervert.

Three more lines were made to the left of him, filled with aspirants classified under the other three Class Groups.

In this world, there were four Class Groups: Elentalists, Specialists, Enchanters, and Summoners.

Elentalists were basically the royalty of the A.S.I. They wielded Grace to manipulate the physical elents like fire, water, lightning, and shadow.

They were flashy, destructive, and nurous.

Because their powers were visually impressive and effective in mass combat, they always ended up with the highest amount of tributes (Academy Points) every year and so, received the lion’s share of the Academy’s funding.

Specialists were the mighty.

They used Grace internally to enhance their physical stats, mastering weapons and martial arts.

So of the most popular Classes under the Specialist Class Group were Knights, Assassins, Archers.

Enchanters were the weirdos, the scary ones.

They manipulated the non-physical: health, ti, the mind, or raw, crystallized Grace.

Basically, they were so attuned with Grace that they could manipulate the magical elent itself, not just use it to manipulate other things.

They were usually the most powerful of all Class Groups, but because they were so rare, they lacked the numbers to challenge the Elentalists’ reign in the Academy.

And then, there were the Summoners.

Max’s Class Group.

Summoners used Grace to call forth beings from their Summon Space or bind existing entities to their will.

They too were powerful but held no personal strength of their own. Add that with their low numbers and they too didn’t stand a chance against the Elentalists.

Nevertheless, the competition was upheld.

A.S.I. was brutal when it ca to this. A damned ritocracy disguised as a school.

Rank was everything.

Max recalled the hierarchy in the academy detailed in the early starts of the story.

Each Class Group was divided from Rank D to Rank S.

An Elentalist-A student was treated like a celebrity. They got private dorms, access to the best dungeons, and sponsorship deals from Aethelgard’s weapon foundries.

An Elentalist-D was looked down upon by everyone, including fellow Elentalists a few ranks higher than them.

They were their seniors, and the juniors below them had to earn their own place and respect.

That ant growing stronger. But no just that, also mastering one’s Class’s power and contributing to the accumulation of tributes to their Class Group.

That last part was very important.

If a D-Rank failed to et the monthly quota of dungeon clears, they were ’disciplined’ by the C-Ranks or B-Ranks.

In the novel, this was depicted as physical hazing, seizing of school profits, and forced labor: sothing like scrubbing the beast cages or acting as at shields during live-fire exercises.

The competition was ruthless.

Max rembered that the Elentalists actively sabotaged others during inter-class war gas to ensure the student council budget remained in their favor.

’I wasn’t exactly looking for a slice-of-life high school experience,’ Max thought grimly, ’but I definitely didn’t sign up for Battle Royale with howork.’

"First Group: Elentalists! Step forward!" Ordenance’s voice bood.

The ceremony began.

One by one, the aspirants stepped into the runic circle. The magic responded instantly.

A girl with glasses stepped in, and a pillar of roaring fla erupted around her.

"Class: Fire Mage!" the automated system announced. The crowd cheered.

Next, a boy. Vines exploded from the floorstones.

"Class: Verdant Mage!"

It went on. Shadow Mages, Ice Mages, Earth Mages.

Not everyone awakened; so stepped in and nothing happened, leading to tears and swift removal by the guards.

But those who did awaken were greeted with applause. The Elentalists were the golden children, the backbone of the army. They had the numbers, and they knew it.

"Second Group: Enchanters!"

As expected, the aspirants were fewer, but everyone was still intrigued.

They wanted to know what Classes would be awakened, as Enchanter Classes were usually the most powerful and interesting.

A boy stepped up, and a golden halo ford over his head.

"Class: Healer Mage!"

Another made purple slashes in the air like portals.

"Class: Portal Mage!"

"Class: Artificer!"

Max watched the procession continue, half amazed and half worried. Each ti he saw soone fail to awaken, he feared the sa fate would happen to him.

"Third Group: Specialists!"

The crowd surged forward. This was the most popular category for the nobility.

Max straightened up. He knew who was coming pretty soon.

After a few awakenings including Archers, Assassins and Barbarians, the boy Max was waiting for stepped out of the crowd.

He was tall, with windswept black hair and piercing silver eyes like a clear river. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and even his casual Academy uniform looked tailored by gods.

It was Renan Falconhart. The original Main Character.

Max made a jealous face. ’Look at him. He literally glows. It’s disgusting.’

He could see now the novel wasn’t over exaggerating when it spent paragraphs describing how handso Renan was.

Renan stepped into the circle with the confidence of soone who knew the plot was on his side.

SHIIIING!

A blinding white light erupted, forming a massive, spectral sword that pierced the ceiling of the hall. The crowd woahed.

"Class: Knight!"

"Woah. The first Knight of the day."

"Really cool. I wonder what his talent would be."

"Looks like a Heavenly Knight. It fits him because he’s so handso... and heavenly."

Max rolled his eyes at the excited girl. ’Get a grip. There’s nothing exciting about that shmuck loser."

"Final Group: Summoners!"

The cheering died down. The Summoner line was almost as short as the Enchanters.

Not many people liked Summoners. They felt they were hacks who relied on external sources to get better rather than themselves.

"Approach!"

Max’s heart began to pound. He didn’t understand why he was so anxious. Maybe it was because he could give anything not to go back to the slums and get bullied to death.

A girl with pale skin and dark circles stepped in. Skulls rose around her.

"Class: Necromancer!"

Another awakened as a Druid, and one simply as a Spirit Caller.

The broad-shouldered guy in front of Max awakened as a Beast Tar.

Then, it was Max’s turn.

"Next aspirant: Lancet Leogardt."

Max took a deep breath. Alright, here we go.

He pushed off his feet and walked toward the dais.

The entire hall had fallen silent, and now, hundreds of eyes followed him. It was like they were confused by his presence, like he was a stain; a skinny boy in a mud-caked hoodie and torn jeans.

"Is that a beggar?"

"How did a slum rat get a Summoner aptitude?"

"I bet he summons rats. Or fleas."

"Did he even shower? Look, he’s going to stain the circle."

Max ignored the whispers; it was the genetic way of life in this light novel. He kept his head high, channeling every ounce of dignity he had left from his previous life.

He stepped onto the dais and walked into the center of the blue runes.

After a mont of waiting, the runes heated up with a golden color.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the system to assign him a beast or a spirit.

Hummmmm.

The circle didn’t erupt in fire. It didn’t summon a spectral monster.

A quill made of pure light materialized in the air above him, followed by a blank to.

The system voice bood, but even it sounded confused. The cadence was off, as if it were reading a word it hadn’t processed in centuries.

"Class... Architect."

The silence that followed was total.

Max opened his eyes. The holographic quill faded into his chest.

"Architect?" soone shouted from the crowd.."What the hell is an Architect?"

"Is that a combat class?"

"Sounds like trash."

"A doll maker? Seriously?"

"Ha! I told you. Useless."

Laughter rippled through the hall. Even the Dean looked intrigued, tilting his head as he consulted a datapad, likely searching for a precedent.

But Max wasn’t looking at them.

He was staring at the translucent blue screen that had just materialized in his vision.

⸢ You have awakened the class: Architect! ⸥

⸢ Your chance has arrived. You have the power to create whatever character you wish and summon them into this world. ⸥

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