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96 - Summoner

Grizmar hesitated for a moment before answering my question. “It’s at 36,” he said, his voice steady but curious about why I was asking.

Based on my own stats—20 mental and 11 physical at level 5—it wasn’t a stretch to assume that these guys were in the double-digit levels.

With Grizmar’s physical stat being 25 points higher than mine, it painted a clear picture of their overall strength.

Then again, stats weren’t everything. The choices you made with your abilities, gear, and strategies mattered just as much—if not more.

With that number in mind, the best way to ensure this plan worked wasn’t some clever trick or complicated strategy. It was putting my trust in them.

That thought alone made me uncomfortable. Trust didn’t come easily for me. I’d learned the hard way back on Earth, and even here, I’d already seen how easily people could betray each other for a slight edge.

But this group? They’d proven themselves to be more reliable than most. If I was ever going to gamble on someone, it might as well be them.

I took a deep breath, reaching down to remove my boots. The weight of the Stepbound Red Boots was in my hands as I stood up, stretching my arms out toward Grizmar.

Confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the boots like they were some kind of trick.

“I’m lending these to you,” I said simply, holding them out further. “You’ll need them.”

He stared at me, the confusion turning into suspicion. “Why? What’s so special about them?”

“Just look at the information on them,” I said, nodding toward the boots. “Trust me, this will make all the difference.”

Grizmar hesitated but eventually took the boots from me. As he examined them, his eyes widened in shock. “What the hell? These let you propel yourself forward like that? No wonder you inquired about my physical stat.”

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging. “They’re a lifesaver in tight spots, and right now, you’re going to need them more than I do.”

Grizmar looked at me, clearly torn. “You’re seriously just letting me borrow these? No catch? No demands?”

"Listen, not all humans are out to take advantage of others. Right now, you need help, and I’m willing to offer it. If someone genuinely deserves a hand and I’m able to lend it, I will—no strings attached. You deserve this, and I’m not the type to accept someone saving me without returning the favor in some way."

He didn’t reply immediately as he considered my words. Then, slowly, he nodded and started putting the boots on. “You’ve got guts, Leon. I’ll give you that,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Fennel, who had been watching the whole exchange, grinned. “See, Grizmar? Humans aren’t all bad. Some of them are actually pretty cool.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Grizmar grumbled, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But fine. I’ll take them. Just don’t blame me if they come back a little scuffed.”

“Hey, they’re boots,” I said. “They’re meant to get dirty.”

Grizmar stood tall, now wearing my boots, and gave a firm stomp to test their fit. The subtle adjustment in size kicked in, a faint shift signaling they were ready and perfectly molded to his feet.

“All right,” he said, his voice firm. “Let’s do this.”

“Hold on a sec,” Fennel said, turning to me with a casual but unmistakably sharp look.

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“We’ve all shared what we can do—Grizmar, Kael, me—but you’ve been kinda quiet about your class, Leon. I mean, you’ve got these little slime buddies hanging around you like loyal pets, but what’s the deal with that? What’s your story?”

Grizmar and Kael didn’t say anything, but their silence spoke volumes.

Grizmar crossed his arms, giving me a skeptical look, still trying to figure me out. Kael, meanwhile, seemed more curious than suspicious, his eyes darting between me and my slimes.

It wasn’t like their question came out of nowhere. They’d provided information about their abilities and classes, and it only made sense for them to want the same from me.

But for me, this wasn’t just a simple reveal. It was tricky.

I hesitated, feeling their expectant gazes on me. My brain was scrambling to come up with a solid response that wouldn’t unravel everything. I couldn’t just tell them the truth—that I was a Necromancer.

The problem was, this wasn’t the first time I’d had to dodge this question. I’d lied about my class twice before, and now I was about to do it a third time.

The first time was with Lila. Back then, I’d told her I was a Tamer. It made sense at the time; we were in the Grotto, surrounded by viscous slimes, and my own slime fit that environment perfectly at that time. The lie worked, but now? Lila knew better. She’d stuck around long enough to see through me, and she hadn’t pressed me on it since.

The second time was with Natalia, the government official. She already knew about my initial skill, [Ooze], so calling myself a Tamer wouldn’t have worked.

I had to think on my feet and went with Alchemist instead. It fit better than most classes because Alchemists are known for manipulating and enhancing materials, which could explain how I’d turned a formless ooze into the sharp spike from my slime shapeshifting ability. Thankfully, Natalia seemed to buy it.

Now, though, Fennel and his party didn’t know about [Ooze], but they’d seen my slimes in action. I couldn’t claim to be a Tamer again—not with no slime-like creatures appearing in the first three floors of this dungeon.

Alchemist didn’t quite fit either.

That left me with one viable option: Summoner.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. “I’m a Summoner,” I said, letting the words hang for a moment. “and my skill is to summon these slime like creatures.”

“Summoner, huh? That tracks, I guess. But I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen summons like yours before.” Fennel said.

Kael, seemed more intrigued than skeptical. He crouched slightly to inspect one of the slimes, which wobbled around.

“They’re multipurpose. Offense, defense, utility—you name it.” i said.

Fennel’s lips quirked into a grin. “Not bad, not bad. Summoner’s a solid pick for you're acquired skill.”

I deflected his teasing with a small, self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, well, not many choices to pick from, right?”

But internally, I knew this lie was a calculated decision. Why go with Summoner now? Why not the first two times I had to make up my class?

The Summoner class trait didn’t give you summoning skills outright, nor did it alter existing ones into something new like the Necromancer class did.

All it did was enhance existing summoning skills by boosting the summoned creature’s action speed, damage output, and reducing their mana cost by 25%. Useful, but not enough to explain the transformation of [Ooze] into sentient slimes.

https://i.imgur.com/ldSeT3z.png [https://i.imgur.com/ldSeT3z.png]

[Summoner Trait: Summoner's Pact]

This trait enhances the efficiency and effectiveness of summoned creatures under the summoner's control, boosting their action speed, increasing their damage output, and reducing their summoning mana cost.]

Increase your summoned creatures action speed by 40%

Increase your summoned creature damage by 40%

Decrease your summoning cost by 25%

[Usage: While it does not grant summoning skills directly, it amplifies the performance of existing summon abilities, allowing the summoner to optimize their arsenal.]

That’s why, back then, I hadn’t gone with Summoner. When I told Lila I was a Tamer, it made sense in the Grotto because slimes existed there naturally. When I told Natalia I was an Alchemist, it fit the narrative better because of her knowledge of [Ooze]. Summoner? That would’ve raised to many questions, putting me to much at risk.

But now? Now was different. They didn’t know about my initial skill, and slimes—while odd—could reasonably be explained as a unique type of summons.

I could make Summoner work here, and it felt like the safest option given the circumstances.

Fennel clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “All right, Summoner Leon. Let’s not waste any more time. You’ve got your slimes, we’ve got our claws, and Tasha needs us. Let’s move.”

Grizmar didn’t say anything, but his skeptical expression softened slightly. Maybe he was starting to trust me—or maybe he was just focused on the task at hand.

Either way, I took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Let’s go save your friend.”