Reincarnated With A Summoning System

Cyrene is left in awe by Long Fang City. With Sonar, she can see the whole outline of buildings and small trees; then there’s the scents of the herbs and fruits that are growing all over the city. 

She grew up in a Manor in the Capital, well away from nature, so every bit of this is a new experience for her. It was rare that she was brought out in public at all, and certainly never to the countryside. But the banquets for the King were to be the last of her likely chances at finding a suitor of any sort, so her sisters begrudgingly brought her along, then ditched her at the first opportunity. 

“Can we…” She begins. 

“Take the long way around and explore the city? Of course, we can. Let us know if you want to explore something or if your oracle senses detect something that needs our attention. This whole valley is my territory after all, so it’s my responsibility to make sure the people are doing well.” Cain agrees with a smile that the Oracle can’t see. 

Unless she concentrates, fine details like facial features are smoothed out by the skill, making everyone featureless mannequins of various sizes. The general shape is enough to tell a lot of people apart though, so even without facial features, Cyrene is learning to recognize people around her.

Cyrene reaches for a raspberry bush before anyone can stop her, pulling her hand back with a pained nose. “Something bit me.”

“Raspberry bushes have sharp thorns. I’ll pick you some; you have to be careful or wear gloves to pick them safely.” Misha explains, knowing that a sheltered, blind city girl couldn’t possibly be expected to know about raspberry bushes. She likely just smelled the berries. 

“Thanks, these were at breakfast, and they’re perfect. Tart and juicy. Do they always grow along the road?”

“It’s a unique feature of Long Fang City. There is food planted everywhere. Most people would have to go to a berry farm or market to buy them, but if they’re ripe, we can pick them from the plants in public areas to eat.” Misha explains, handing Cyrene the berries she just picked. 

They are about to pass the park when the Oracle suddenly stops and turns towards the trees. “Someone is hurt. Can we help? I carry bandages with me because I run into stuff all the time.”

“Misha is a Healer. Where is this hurt person? Lead the way, and we’ll fix them right up.”

A group of teenage Beastkin kids flee when they see the group coming, leaving behind a battered-looking puppy, or more correctly, a werewolf child lying in the grass. 

“You’ll be alright little one. I’ll heal you right up.” Misha says softly, and Cyrene moves to pet the werewolf, which climbs into her lap and cries in its half grown light brown wolf form. 

They give the pup a while to calm down after it has been healed before Cain signals Misha to ask the questions. She’s much less intimidating than he is, especially with the pretty blue wings showing. 

Cain could change that, of course, pick a friendly-looking or small and cuddly form, but it feels more right to have someone naturally approachable do it instead. 

“Are you alright now?” Misha asks the boy as the sniffles slow.

The pup nods and shifts back into a teen boy, who equips a pair of shorts but stays on Cyrene’s lap. 

“Do they always pick on you?” She tries again.

“Just today. I activated my class, and they said it’s stupid and useless.” The boy whispers. 

“There are no useless classes. Why did they think that?”

“My brother and his friends dared me to random roll, and I was stupid enough to accept. They said it was a girly class and that it meant the system knew I was too weak to be a warrior.”

[Name] Percival

[Race] Werewolf

[Level] 1

[Class] Mixologist

Cain internally curses the system yet again. Some things shouldn’t be in the random class options. But still, it’s far from a useless class.

“What does it say about special ways to gain experience?” Cain asks, forming a plan in his mind. 

“If people like the drinks I serve, I get an experience bonus based on the complexity and quality of the drink. I’m a waitress.” The boy sighs. 

“You’re a bartender. Your skills should be for making new and special drinks, right?”

“Yeah, some can even add buffs, but the warriors don’t care about that since I don’t get any fighting skills.”

“I know just the person to help you. Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Cain says, looking the boy over carefully. 

“Why not this one? I like the smell of this lady. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I can walk since the Lady Misha healed me.” The boy’s answer takes a hard turn when he realizes that not only did he just suggest the blind woman should carry him, but also that his comment might make her think he’s a weirdo. 

He ends up walking hand in hand with both Misha and Cyrene as Cain leads them to the nearby local tavern, run by a female werewolf in her early 30s. Cain had to check her status to know her name, but the face is familiar and he’s sure he saw her at the farm defense the first day he was here. 

“Mary, do you have a moment?” He calls from the door as they walk into the empty tavern, his boots thumping on the rough wooden floor. 

“Be right there, hun. Oh, Duke Cain! It’s a pleasure to see you here; what can I do for you? We brew the finest herbal mead in Skyview if you’re holding a banquet.”

“I will take a cask of the mead, but I’ve found you a potential Helper. He activated the mixologist class today, and you’ve got the biggest tavern in town.”

“A mixologist, is it? That will be very helpful once he grows up. You’ve got a talent for drinks; make us each something from behind the bar. If they’re good, you’re hired.”

Percival is in a much better mood as he looks for ingredients and mixes drinks for everyone. He’s going all out; they’ve all been created to give a mana regeneration buff when imbibed and come in various fruit and liquor flavors.

Sweeter for Misha and Cyrene, tart for Mary, and a slightly sour mix of apple and Rum with a hint of cinnamon for Cain.

They each take a sip and pass them around, trying every flavor before finishing the one they started with. 

“Very good. If you want the job, come back here after school. You can make the evening punch for the buffet and mix drinks until dark. I’ll work out the schedule with your mom, so you don’t fall behind at school.”

“Thank you so much. She’s going to be so happy that I got a real job. My brother says he will be a Royal Guard, but he’s seventeen and still level nine.”

“Don’t they have training dummies at the local school for kids to practice and get their level up?” Cain asks, confused. If they don’t, he can donate a bunch. 

“They do, but Hon and his friends are all lazy. It takes a lot of work on the dummies, six hours a day or more, if you’re going to cap out at level 40 before you finish school at fifteen. Especially if you activated your class late.”

That makes sense. Given the option, most people will do the bare minimum to get by, and some even less than that. Plus, six hours a day of hard physical training isn’t exactly an easy process even for the motivated. 

“What’s their plan then? Just stay low level forever?” Misha asks, curious. 

“They met a patrol guard the other day who said he could get them into the capital training raids. They only need to pretend they’re new transfers to get the pass and enter the raid to get leveled up enough for the city guard. After that, they think they’ll be recognized as geniuses and inducted into the Royal Guard.” Percival shrugs, recognizing that the idea is idiotic. Even if they get through the training dungeon, the Royal Guard are elites. 

“Oh, I know the leader of the training raids. Kandi. She’s a Holy Avenger now, but she transferred in as a Crusader. She used to work for my dad.” Cyrene says brightly, and Cain laughs, confusing Percival. 

“You can’t lie to Crusaders. They detect falsehood as a passive skill. They will never even get into the group.” He explains, and Percival smirks. 

“Now I feel better. I’m not telling them that. Let them try to weasel out of their lies.” The boy chuckles.

“We’re on our way to the dungeon. Is there anywhere else we should see along the way?” Misha asks as they stand to leave. 

“If you’re willing to carry some hard workers, there’s a pair at the flour mill along your way. They shouldn’t be hard to find.” Mary suggests.

“Yeah, a Red Goblin and a Turtle-type Beastkin. They’re always together. You can’t miss them.” Percival agrees.

They make their way across town, frequently stopping to investigate various plants and talk to locals, making sure all is well in the valley. Many people avoid them, not wanting to annoy the Duke, but almost all of them at least give a smile and a wave as their group passes. 

It’s silent, so Cyrene had never noticed it before, and the friendly greetings make her almost giddy with joy at being welcomed by so many people. 

“I almost feel like a princess, with everyone being so nice everywhere we go.” She laughs, skipping down the street. Cain and Misha share an amused look, but follow the Oracle as she wanders, not wanting to let her get lost. 

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