Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons

"Alright, that concludes the tour," Sarah said as they headed back.

Arthur nodded. "Thanks for the tour. It was really helpful."

Sarah waved a hand dismissively. "You're welcome."

She hesitated for a moment before glancing at him. "By the way, I was meaning to ask you something. What's your talent?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the sudden question.

Sarah quickly continued, "I know it's a personal thing, so don't feel like you have to answer. I won't hold it against you."

Arthur thought for a second. He didn't mind telling people he was a summoner. It wasn't exactly rare in Caldera, and keeping it a complete secret might even make him more suspicious.

"I'm a summoner," he said casually.

Sarah stopped walking. "You're a what?"

Arthur turned to face her, mildly amused by her reaction. "A summoner."

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Sarah frowned, her brows furrowing in genuine confusion. "That makes no sense."

Arthur tilted his head. "Why?"

Sarah crossed her arms, eyeing him critically. "Because summoners don't fight like you do. You have S-Class physical power. You wield a sword with actual skill. Summoners don't even train in close combat. Their summons fight for them."

Arthur merely shrugged. "Who made that rule?"

Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it. She had no answer to that. It was just how things were. Summoners were supposed to be fragile backliners who commanded their creatures from a safe distance. But Arthur wasn't fragile. He didn't need to be standing behind his summons.

Arthur decided to ask her about hers.

"What is your talent?" he said.

"I'm an elementalist. I have control over the five basic elements."

Arthur nodded in understanding, he had already speculated that from her performance during the entrance exam.

"What about your class?"

Sarah looked at him weirdly.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm an elementalist, so obviously I am a mage."

Arthur nodded, but his mind latched onto something new.

'It seems like natives of this world can't choose their class—it's automatically assigned based on their talent. Maybe they are born with it?'

That was an important distinction. Unlike him, who had freely chosen his class from a secret realm, the natives were bound by the system's decision.

Arthur decided to investigate whether natives knew or had special classes. Like his own class, the Shadow Monarch.

"Have you heard about the special classes?"

Sarah frowned. "Special classes? I've never heard of such a thing, no. What is it?"

"Apparently, I've been hearing rumors that there are classes other than the ones known—mage, warrior, and so on."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "That's a lie. Or at least, I've never heard of such a thing before."

Arthur nodded slightly, his mind already putting the pieces together. So the natives really don't know about special classes… That means only players can obtain them.

That was a huge advantage.

Sarah glanced at him. "Where did you even hear that nonsense?"

Arthur shrugged. "Just something I overheard."

"Then don't believe them," she said firmly. "The academy has been around for centuries. If there were secret classes, don't you think someone would have figured it out by now?"

Arthur nodded, ending the discussion. He had already gotten what he wanted.

"You're right. Anyway, thanks for the tour. I'm going to check out my dormitory room, then head out—I have something to do."

Sarah nodded. "Alright, see you around." She gave a small wave before turning away.

Arthur returned the wave, watching her go for a second before heading in the opposite direction.

Arthur needed to head to the real world—it was time for him to talk to his sister.

Arriving at the dormitory, he stepped inside without a second thought. His mind was already elsewhere, focused entirely on what was to come. Without even glancing around the room, he logged out.

The transition was instant.

His body teleported back to reality, and he found himself lying on the bed in his dorm room. He sat up, exhaling softly before running a hand through his hair.

'Charlotte…'

Pushing himself off the bed, he headed straight for the bathroom.

The cool water splashed against his face as he washed away the exhaustion lingering in his features.

He couldn't let her see him like this—tired, worn, on edge.

After stepping out of the shower, Arthur wiped the fog from the mirror and stared at his reflection.

His face was sharp, but there was an exhaustion hidden behind his eyes. He forced a small smile, testing how it looked—natural enough.

He didn't want Charlotte to worry.

Drying his hair, he put on a fresh set of clothes, something casual but presentable. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

It had been too long.

Arthur closed the dorm room behind him, as he headed toward Raymond's office.

Meanwhile...

Inside the hospital room, Charlotte remained motionless, her frail frame barely sinking into the soft mattress.

The only movement came from the slow rise and fall of her chest, each breath seeming as though it were taken out of sheer obligation rather than will.

The large window beside her bathed the room in a gentle golden hue, but the light never quite reached her eyes.

They were empty—lifeless, staring into nothingness as if she were watching something no one else could see.

The untouched plate of food sat beside her, its warmth long gone, mirroring the cold atmosphere of the room.

"Charlotte," the nurse beside her said again, voice carefully composed. She extended a spoonful of food toward the girl. "You haven't eaten in nearly a week. Just a little, alright?"

Silence.

Charlotte didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Didn't acknowledge the presence of another human being beside her.

The nurse sighed through her nose. Ten more minutes passed in fruitless attempts before she finally gave up. Her expression shifted subtly, warmth fading into something colder—sterner.

Without another word, she stood, adjusting her uniform before heading for the door.

Click.

As soon as the door shut behind her, her soft, nurturing mask shattered. She turned to the other nurse waiting outside, her voice clipped and devoid of any concern.

"Bring her the IV. Increase her dosage of dopamine stimulants. Add serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin as well."

The other nurse hesitated. "That much? Won't it—"

"It doesn't matter," the first nurse cut in sharply. "She needs to look happy today. It's a must."