I Only Summon Villainesses

The night stretched on, longer than it had any right to. My vision blurred at the edges, eyes heavy as stone. I could barely force myself to look at anything — each blink felt like lifting weights.

Being draped over the shoulder of Levi's clone for... however long it had been... let the fatigue really sink its teeth in. Undoubtedly, Pyre Saint must've burned through a vast amount of essence to activate her ability.

And then there was Kassie. She'd used Tyrant's Advance too.

I was pretty much spent now that I wasn't moving anymore. Thinking about it, it was a damn good thing I'd managed to double my essence pool.

'Even with that, I can barely handle two villainesses going all out.'

I couldn't have imagined taking multiple skill activations from both of them otherwise.

Summoning them cost less thanks to their time in The Nave, sure. But their ability usage still carved out chunks of my spirit essence like a dull knife. And I'd burned through my own attributes on top of that.

The more we moved, the more my vision darkened. My consciousness kept trying to slip away, but I was stubborn about it. Nothing was safe yet. Nothing was certain — not even this Levi person. And I didn't have enough essence left to keep Kassie manifested.

Not that I could anyway, considering Levi's clear instructions.

The clones moved swiftly through the empty streets, oblivious to the state of my head. Everything was dark and abandoned. I had no idea how far we'd gone or where we'd ended up.

With a hazy mind — half unconscious, half conscious — I finally felt the galloping stop.

But I was too weak to stand. Too depleted to do anything but slump.

I felt myself lowered onto a cold wooden surface. Somewhere nearby, the smell of something salted... or smoked... or maybe both, reached my nose.

Then nothing.

***

When my eyes cracked open, I saw only thick darkness. Grain dust hung in the air like a living thing, coating my throat with every breath I dragged in. It tasted stale. Old.

Burlap sacks surrounded me, faintly visible in the gloom. I swept my hand across the darkness, trying to get a sense of where I was. Even though I couldn't see much of anything, I could hear breathing. Two people, maybe?

My palm brushed against something sticky and slightly greasy.

I jerked my hand back and wiped it on the sacks.

Bringing it to my nose, I caught the unmistakable smell of cheese on my skin.

'Grain dust... cheese... burlap sacks...'

And then I noticed the constant swaying. The bumping. The creak of wood and the groan of ropes under tension.

'Am I... in a wagon? A food transport?'

My heart kicked up a notch.

'Have I been captured?'

It couldn't be. I needed to escape somehow. Maybe Levi and Tristan had been caught. Maybe someone had tracked us down and—

'Lira...'

The name hit me like a fist to the chest.

My mind dragged me back to it all — every horrifying second I'd been trying not to think about. The flames. The way her body had—

The killings I wrought.

Suddenly my throat turned sour, and I felt like I was going to vomit. Like someone was choking me from the inside out.

I leaned forward, coughing and trembling. The weight of it all crashed down — the slaughter, the burns, the screams. Everything echoed inside my skull in sharp, relentless waves. And it wasn't just mental anymore. The pain felt physical now, like it was carving into my chest.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay?!"

A croaky but sharp feminine voice cut through the darkness. Someone shifted toward me, patting my back and gripping my shoulder gently.

"Here, drink some water. The air in here can be harsh — you'll have to deal with it for a while if you want to live."

She pressed a gourd into my hands.

I took it and tilted it to my lips. Instead of water, harsh liquid burned down my throat. I instantly spat it out, coughing violently.

"What?" She sounded genuinely confused.

"What the hell?!" I rasped between coughs. "Are you trying to kill me? That's alcohol!"

I could taste it. Definitely alcohol.

"Oh... ah..." Her tone shifted, apologetic and a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, I gave you the wrong one. Here—"

She offered me another gourd, nudging me with it.

I took it, shoving her damn alcohol back at her. Then I sniffed the new one cautiously.

"Don't worry," she added, hearing me sniff. "It's water for real this time."

After confirming the smell, I poured it into my mouth. This time it was cool and refreshing, washing away the harshness left by the alcohol.

But neither the alcohol nor the water did anything for the deeper pain — the one that felt like it was piercing me from somewhere behind my throat. Like a burn, but different. Very different.

I leaned my head back against something and rested, trying to manage my breathing.

"Who are you?" I asked after a moment. "Where are we going? Where's Emma? What about Tristan and that guy... Levi?"

"Hey, hey," her voice came back, still casual. "So many questions! Calm down, okay? I'll answer step by step."

I couldn't picture her face in the darkness, but her voice sounded like it belonged to a shameless gambler — the kind who'd lost everything but still believed one more bet would turn it all around. There was energy to it too. A strange levity.

"We — that's me, you, and your little friend — are currently in transit toward Mishard Thicket. We'll lay low there for a while before heading to Faeren Heights to escape the church's reach. Well, not totally. Since you made such a big burnt pile of ashes back there, they'll be willing to cross continents to hunt you down. I doubt heading to another nation will help much."

Her voice suddenly brightened, taking on an excited edge.

"But hey, at least you'll be on our home turf! Proper protection and all that. A friend of Tristan is a friend of ours!"

Then her tone dropped, becoming darker and more somber.

"Besides... Lira and Clara... we weren't that close, but she was a good person. I'm sorry for your loss."

Pain twisted in my gut like a knife. I dropped my gaze — not that it mattered in the darkness.

"Who..." I started, but my voice caught.

"Oh, I mean, your—"

"Who are you people?" I interrupted. "You said 'our home.' Who are you people? What's your relationship with Levi and Tristan?"

Silence for a moment. Then her voice came back, sounding like she was grinning.

"Well, that depends on who's asking. If you're a law enforcer, then we're merchants. If you're a merchant, then we're the Outlaws — a notorious criminal organization operating in the Underworld. If you're a criminal, we're just mercenaries like everyone else. But most people across nations love to call us Outlaws. Back home, though? We're the Black Snow Company. A massive organization of the worst people you can think of, making the greatest profit from whatever you can imagine! Name it — assassination, adventuring, damn it, we even have a better gate raid ratio than some official guilds. We do mundane jobs too. Manufacture and supply goods to whoever needs them. You name it, we've got it. We are the Black Snow Company!"