Actually, their reputation didn’t precede them at all.
The Terrible Three were basically nobodies—at least, at this point in the story. Even though Lancet knew they eventually grew into much higher, more dangerous roles in the novel, they were still just bottom-feeders compared to others.
’Others’ in this context were the people they were desperately trying to work for: the Serpent Society, a highly secretive and illicit faction of Awakeners operating within the school’s shadows.
At this current point in the tiline, Linzley, Muskard, and Caelem were just trying to build their nas.
They had only unified a few weeks ago in the Summoner-C horooms, entirely out of necessity. They were the outcasts. The misfits.
This was because amongst others with their majestic Summons, theirs were downright terrifying.
In the world of Awakener Supre, Classes weren’t completely identical. One Swordsman didn’t have the exact kind of power as another despite having the sa Class.
Within the sa Class Group, Awakeners possessed specific thes or affinities. Take Beast Tars, for example.
Most Tars could only bond with specific species—so specialized in avian beasts, others in reptilian lizards, slis, or swarming insects. Very few possessed the versatility to ta everything.
Caelem, unluckily—or perhaps luckily—for him, could only ta haunted beasts. The stuff of nightmares. The things that scared children in folklore.
When Lancet had read the novel, he thought it made for an incredibly unique and interesting power set for an MC. But Caelem ended up going down the villainous route precisely because society segregated and feared him for his strange, monstrous affinity.
It was the exact sa story for Linzley and Muskard.
Linzley was a Puppeteer. Puppeteers utilized things called "threads of energy" to literally sew Grace and particular powers into their inanimate creations. But Linzley’s threads were corrupted with strange, eerie affinities.
Instead of the usual powers like elents or abstracts, her energy turned her puppets into twisted, Chucky or Annabelle-type dolls, giving them haunted powers and deeply unsettling appearances.
Then there was Muskard, a Spirit Caller. His existence was probably the strangest and most universally hated of the three.
Traditionally, despite falling under the sa Class Group, Spirit Callers and Demon Binders absolutely despised each other. They viewed themselves as two opposite sides of a holy coin.
But Muskard ca in and completely tainted that dynamic.
He could summon Spirits, yes, but only Cursed Spirits. Entities dripping with evil energy that specialized in corrupting the minds of their victims.
So, this group of terrifying misfits had banded together to create the Terrible Three.
Their powers were undeniably intriguing and probably extrely potent, but their mutual decision to rebel against the school’s standard curriculum left them completely cut off from the Academy’s official resources to nurture their growth.
Instead, they preferred to just take what they wanted from weaker students.
Students exactly like Lancet.
Lancet stumbled backward, his shoes scraping against the cobblestone until his back hit the cold, hard stone of the dormitory outer wall.
Caelem stepped closer, his tall, heavily muscled fra completely shadowing him. He leaned in, his striking white hair falling over his shoulder as he inspected Lancet’s face with grey, calculating eyes. "So, you’re the infamous Lancet Leogardt."
Linzley tiptoed closely, popping up beside Caelem’s elbow. She tilted her head, her multi-colored pigtails swinging as she hugged her stitched-up doll.
"He’s cute," she giggled, poking Lancet’s cheek. "He has the face of a baby."
"And a legend for a Summon," Muskard rasped. He looked at Lancet coldly, the viscous red coating on his arm shifting unsettlingly. "Are you really that special, kid?"
Suddenly, an unsettling smile tore his face. "Pfft. There’s nothing special about you."
Lancet stared at the three Year Twos, his heart hamring against his ribs. ’Rember the strategy,’ he told himself. ’No backing down. Don’t let them sll your fear.’
Lancet forced himself to puff out his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes, plastering on a look of dismissal. "What do you clowns want, anyway?"
Caelem’s silver eyes flashed dangerously. "Clowns?!"
In a flash, his hand shot out, his fingers locking around Lancet’s throat like a choker. Lancet found out first hand just how strong he was as he lifted the freshman completely off the ground.
Lancet groaned, his hands imdiately flying up to claw desperately at Caelem’s thick wrist. His legs kicked and shook uselessly in the air.
’Not againnnnn,’ Lancet ntally wept.
"Do you want to introduce you to my beasts, little rat?" Caelem snarled, bringing Lancet’s face inches from his own. "Have you ever heard of an Abominable Snowman? Or maybe you would like to see a Skinwalker tear you apart piece by piece? Or perhaps..."
Caelem’s lips curled into a devilish grin. "This tall, large one called Bigfoot. He’s my absolute favorite."
With a vicious grunt, Caelem slamd Lancet back against the stone wall and released his grip. Lancet dropped to the cobblestones, landing hard on his knees.
He gasped for air, clutching his bruised throat and groaning as the cobblestones bit into his knees.
"You should really know better than to insult your seniors," Muskard said coldly, looking down at the coughing freshman.
"And we’re not just talking about us," Linzley laughed, leaning over so her upside-down face filled Lancet’s vision.
"Refusing a handshake and bragging to a senior two years above you is no small cri," Caelem lectured, dusting his hand. "Especially in a school this big. Everyone knows how things work around here. Respecting your seniors is the way to go. It is the only way to survive. Do anything else, and you get your ass handed to you."
Lancet slowly looked up, rubbing his neck as he forced himself to swallow. "So... Clevus sent you," he rasped.
The three seniors paused, exchanging a quick, surprised look.
"Indeed," Caelem grinned, crossing his arms. "Did you really think insulting an esteed mber of our secret group would go unpunished?"
Lancet was still for a mont, thoughtful, then he spoke. "You’re not talking about the Terrible Three. You’re talking about the Serpent Society."
The trio stiffened. For a mont, their arrogant playfulness disappeared, then it returned right after.
"Indeed," Caelem repeated, his voice dropping to a cautious murmur. "Hmm. You’re quite inford for a Year One from the Eastern Slums."
"The thing is," Lancet said, pushing himself up so he was sitting against the wall, "neither of you are actually in the Serpent Society."
He looked right at Caelem’s bewildered face. "So if you’re out here doing this, it’s because Clevus sent you to do his dirty work with the promise that you’ll finally be allowed to join."
All three of them physically recoiled. Muskard’s red arm flared with angry, dark energy. Linzley stopped giggling, her grip on her doll turning white-knuckled. Caelem looked absolutely furious for a split second, his jaw tightening.
But then, surprisingly, he let out a dark, booming laugh.
"Correct again," Caelem smiled, looking genuinely impressed. "You might be a slum rat, Lancet, but at least that big head of yours carries a big enough brain to excuse its size."
Lancet looked directly into the handso senior’s eyes.
"Your breath kinda stinks," he deadpanned.
Silence instantly dropped.
Linzley slapped a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to hold in a giggle. Caelem’s eyes widened then squeezed in anger.
"You runt!"
He backhanded Lancet across the face with brutal force. The impact sent Lancet spinning, his shoulder slamming hard into the stone wall before he collapsed onto his ass, his ears ringing violently.
"Kid’s got a mouth," Muskard said, looking down at Lancet with disdain.
"Clevus asked us to beat you up. To teach you a permanent lesson about hierarchy," Caelem spoke, his voice dripping with venom as he stood over Lancet. "And you are completely vulnerable right now, because everyone knows you spent all of your little Grace anchoring Astensia in that Higher Dungeon."
The three seniors extended their hands at the sa ti, evil smiles on their faces. Then, swirling energy began to pool in their palms, a telltale sign that they were about to call their summons.
Lancet’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He had a greater Grace Retention, but hadn’t begun absorbing yet. He had the ring but there was no change yet. And he had no Grace to summon Astensia.
He was completely defenseless against three Year Two elites!
But just as the summoned horrors threatened to materialize, the swirling magic suddenly dissolved. Their dark energies faded into nothing and they lowered their hands.
Lancet grimaced, thoroughly confused.
Caelem smirked at his fear. "However... We were intercepted by another Serpent. One who sits even higher in power than Clevus."
The white-haired Beast Tar slowly squatted down, bringing himself face-to-face with Lancet. Up close, despite the cruel smirk, Lancet could clearly see just how infuriatingly handso the senior really was.
Caelem rested his forearms on his knees, his silver eyes locking onto Lancet’s defiant face.
"They say we should recruit you instead," Caelem whispered.
He tilted his head, the smirk widening into a full, devilish grin.
"So, what do you think, Lancet Leogardt? Wanna join the Serpent Society?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers