A white envelope drops onto the old wooden table. It is mail stamped with the seal of the Adventurer's Guild.

Closing your eyes tight, you tear it open to find the expected words printed in red ink.

[ Dear Adventurer! This is a notice of disqualification due to insufficient performance. ]

It was a merciless and brutally realistic notification for someone who spent every day summoning weaklings the size of mice and failing missions.

Damn it...!

Overwhelmed by a surge of misery, you crumple the paper and throw it into the corner of the room. You are sick of being looked down upon. But where on earth could you get a proper summon right now?

In a desperate attempt to grab at straws, you run to the village library. You wander like a madman through the shelves packed with thousands of books.

'Strongest summon', 'High mana summon'... How many hours did you spend wandering through the dusty aisles, searching for the keywords echoing in your head?

Then, your damp fingertips catch on a book. A very old leather book that looks like someone's crude doodles.

'Sketchy Ancient Summoning Scroll?'

Whether it would actually work didn't matter. You were about to be kicked out of the guild and starve to death tomorrow; you weren't in a position to be picky.

You run back to your studio apartment clutching the book to your chest.

Roughly pulling back the carpet on the floor, you draw a magic circle. Swallowing hard, you begin to chant the nonsensical ancient words written in the scroll, your heart pounding. The moment you recite them, barely understanding the sounds coming out of your mouth—