Rakshas: Tales of the Summoned Lord

Next day.

The morning sun filtered through the academy's windows, casting long, soft shadows across the polished stone floors. Allen Styles stood at the front of the room, his eyes scanning the eager faces of his students.

Today's lesson was more than just techniques; it was about instilling a sense of discipline, hard work, and pride in their craft.

Allen was always an attentive teacher, having past experience in his previous life. Although he is very young, his teaching method and dedication is respected by peers and students alike. His talent and youth only further adds to his charm.

But today, his focus was particularly sharp on one student—Tobias, a young man in his teens. He was smaller than most of the others, but there was a fire in his eyes that never waned. His movements, while still unrefined, were steady and precise, each stroke of the sword reflecting his determination.

Allen had always favored Tobias. Not only because he was the most hardworking in the class and admires Allen a lot, but because of his unique position in the Divine Academy.

Tobias was the younger brother-in-law of none other than Instructor Claude, one of the top Gold Rank battle force masters in the city.

Tobias's sister, a well-known noblewoman, dotes on him like no other. Tobias is much younger than his sister and she has taken care of him liler her own son.

The family dynamic was one that worked in Tobias's favor—his sister's affection and Claude's occasional guidance gave him an undeniable edge.

Tobias might not yet fully understand the weight of this privilege, but Allen did. It was a perfect opportunity to form a closer bond with Claude and increase his own stature.

As the class came to an end, Allen dismissed the others with a small nod. Most of the students packed up their belongings and left in a hurried rush, but Tobias lingered by the door, as always, putting away his practice sword with a precision that matched his teacher's.

"Teacher.." Tobias called out with a respectful bow, his voice still youthful but tinged with respect.

Allen waited until the last of the other students were out of earshot before turning to face him. "You're improving," he said, his voice steady but warm. "There's still a long road ahead, but you're on the right track."

Tobias's face brightened with a small smile, his eyes glinting with the joy of recognition. "Thank you, Teacher Styles. I… I'll continue to work harder."

Allen stepped closer, giving Tobias a knowing glance. "You're always at the front of the class, Tobias. That's something not many can say." His gaze softened slightly as he continued, "I admire that in you. But it's not just your hard work that's going to make you great."

Tobias blinked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

"I mean your family, Tobias." Allen smiled, his expression briefly turning contemplative. "You have an edge most don't."

Tobias shifted uncomfortably, not fully understanding. Allen laughed softly, knowing the boy wasn't used to such compliments. "Your sister and Sir Claude—they're not just family, Tobias. They're key figures in Redbrook. Sir Claude is a Gold Rank instructor, one of the city's most renowned. His insight could help you soar to greater heights."

Tobias nodded, slightly embarrassed but appreciative of the praise. "I know, Master Styles. My sister… she wants only the best for me. She's always pushing me."

"I'm sure she does," Allen said, eyes glinting with calculated intent. "I've heard the stories about Instructor Claude's prowess. I'd love to meet him. It would be an honor to have him, your sister, and you attend the banquet I'm hosting tonight. A gathering of influential figures, a chance to make important connections."

Tobias blinked in surprise, his gaze flickering to the side as if uncertain how to respond. "Y-You want my brother-in-law to come to your banquet?"

"Of course," Allen replied smoothly, his smile widening. "Instructor Claude's reputation precedes him, and as I've said, you are family. A man of his stature deserves recognition, and as someone who appreciates hard work, I believe he and your sister will find the evening worthwhile. It will give us a chance to talk about your future, Tobias."

Tobias hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'll tell my sister. I'm sure they'll be pleased to attend."

"Good," Allen said, his tone light and reassuring. "I'll make sure the banquet is one you'll remember. This is not just an opportunity for you—it's a chance for you to advance with the right connections."

Tobias looked genuinely grateful, his nervousness slowly being replaced by excitement. "Thank you, Teacher. I won't let you down."

Allen smiled as Tobias left the training hall, his mind already turning to the possibilities the evening held. Claude was a Five- Star Gold Rank battlemaster, just a little away from breaking through to Blademaster realm. The Academy headmaster favours his very much, and he is also the most probably successor to headmaster position. Claude have stopped taking classes since two years ago, turning all his attention to attempt his breakthrough. He occasionally attends some important work in academy and some influential gathering otherwise it's very hard to catch a hold of him.

"Tonight would be a turning point, I must play my cards right.."

____

Divine Academy, Allen's office

Allen Styles sipped his tea, his eyes scanning the bustling students leaving the academy from his private office.

'Strength isn't about winning every fight.

It's about knowing which fights are worth fighting.'

For five years, he had navigated the treacherous landscape of this city of titans, slowly but surely weaving a web of small influence. He had built his network in the shadows, gaining power without drawing too much attention. And in all this time, he had never suffered a true defeat.

Not because he was the strongest.

Not because he had overwhelming forces.

But because he knew when to step back.

A Game of Survival and Power

Redbrook was a battlefield, not of swords, but of connections, wealth, and influence. Every noble, merchant, warrior, and criminal walked the fine line between opportunity and annihilation. Wars were rarely fought with steel—most conflicts ended before they began, settled with carefully chosen alliances, debts, and favors.

Allen played this game better than most.

His summons were loyal beyond question, and while none were stronger than him, their value was never in brute force. They were spies, informants, traders, craftsmen, and silent observers, positioned in key places across the city.

He had ties to the merchant guilds, but never enough to threaten their control.

He had dealings with battle academies, but never enough to make them wary.

He had an underground presence, but never enough to make the syndicates see him as a rival.

And because of that, even his competitors hesitated to make a move against him.

In a city where death was as common as the changing seasons, Allen Styles was still standing—not by overwhelming his enemies, but by making sure they never truly saw him as one.

The Mark of a True Strategist

"Master," a voice called, pulling him from his thoughts.

It was Hilter, his most trusted summon. A man of strict discipline, sharp wit, and unyielding etiquette, the butler entered the room with a crisp bow.

"Tonight's banquet preparations are proceeding smoothly," Hilter reported, his voice even, yet there was something in his eyes—a quiet frustration.

Allen smirked. "What is it this time? Someone reject our invitation?"

"That… would be an understatement."

Hilter cleared his throat, straightening his cuffs as though physically restraining himself from showing displeasure. "Several guests who would have been valuable to our network have declined. Among them is Merchant Lord Valtor, citing 'prior engagements.'"

Allen chuckled, setting his tea down. "In other words, he wants me to know my place."

"Precisely."

Valtor was a powerful figure in Redbrook's middle class trade circles, and for a small player like Allen, securing his favor would have been a step forward. But the man had no reason to accept an invitation from someone who had yet to prove himself worthy of the city's higher circles.

It was a setback, but not an unexpected one.

Allen exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden desk. "That's fine. We adjust. I assume the rest are still attending?"

"Yes, including Instructor Claude."

Allen's eyes flickered with satisfaction. That was the real prize.

Allen had spent five years climbing the ladder, never rushing, never overextending, never picking a battle he couldn't win. That patience was why he had never suffered a true defeat.

Now was the time to take the next step forward, If he could convince Claude—a renowned Gold Rank Instructor—to guide him, it would push him closer to breaking into Gold Rank himself. A threshold he had felt nearing for months but had been unable to cross.

This was a fight worth taking.

Because the moment Allen Styles reached Gold Rank, the landscape of Redbrook would shift in his favor. He would ascend from lowest level to a middle tier figure in Redbrook.

...

Noble district, Ellen's banquet Hall.

The grand hall was a spectacle of opulence. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their lights reflecting off the polished marble floors, casting a warm glow throughout the room. The air buzzed with a low murmur of excited chatter as well-dressed guests, from noble merchants to guild leaders, gathered in small groups, exchanging pleasantries over the finest wines and delicacies.

The room was alive with the harmonious strains of a string quartet, providing an elegant backdrop to the evening's festivities.

Allen Styles, though not yet a figure of towering power in Redbrook, stood at the center of it all, his demeanor exuding the perfect blend of charm and confidence. His servants, always close by, moved gracefully around the room, ensuring that the guests' every need was met.

Hilter, his most trusted and strongest summon, stood at attention nearby, overseeing the logistics with military precision.

Allen had spared no expense. Every detail had been meticulously planned, and even a fraction of his wealth amassed through five years of hardwork had been invested in this single event.

The banquet hall had been rented for an astronomical sum, the finest musicians had been brought in to play, and dancers twirled elegantly to the rhythm of the music, adding an ethereal grace to the evening. The tables were laden with the finest delicacies, rare delicacies, from roasted meats to exotic fruits, all designed to leave a lasting impression on the influential guests.

Despite the lavishness of the event, Allen was not a man to rest on his laurels. His eyes were sharp, calculating, observing his guests. Each interaction, each handshake, was a step in the network he was so carefully cultivating.

As the evening stretched on, the first significant arrivals began to make their way into the hall. Merchants from many fields, some guild leaders looking for new opportunities, and small politicians eager to form new alliances—all were present, each playing their part in the web of Redbrook's intricate power structure.

Allen greeted them all warmly, his words carefully measured, ensuring that he came across as approachable yet influential, a man on the rise.

Hours passed, and Allen's mind began to turn with anticipation. Instructor Claude, the man he'd been waiting for, had yet to arrive. He had been the key figure Allen wanted to impress tonight.

Finally, after much time had passed, the moment came. The room fell into a subtle hush as the door opened, and Instructor Claude stepped in. Tall, imposing, with a face that carried the weight of years of experience, he commanded attention the moment he crossed the threshold.

Beside him walked Tobias, Allen's hardworking student and the younger brother-in-law of Claude, who carried an air of nervous excitement, and his wife, a noblewoman in her prime, with an elegance that spoke of old money and influence.

Claude's entrance was almost calculated—he exuded authority, and yet there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in his expression. His polite nods to the guests were coupled with a faint, almost imperceptible sigh.

He was a man used to being at the top, and from the way he scanned the room, it was clear that he wasn't particularly impressed with the extravagance around him. The banquet was nothing more than a distraction for him—a fleeting amusement.

Allen, however, had long anticipated this reaction. Claude was a man who didn't give his attention easily, and tonight was not the night to try to impress him with flattery or pleasantries alone. Allen needed something more.

As Claude and his party made their way to the center of the hall, Allen moved swiftly, his expression warm yet purposeful. He offered polite greetings to the others as he passed them by, but his focus was entirely on Claude. Reaching the group, he bowed his head slightly in respect.

"Instructor Claude," Allen began, his voice smooth but respectful, "I'm honored to have you here tonight. Your presence truly elevates this humble gathering. I've heard much about your legendary skills and your accomplishments, but it is a privilege to finally meet you in person."

Claude gave a stiff nod, his gaze briefly meeting Allen's before returning to scan the room. "A pleasure," he replied curtly, his voice steady but with an edge of detachment. "But I must admit, I'm more interested in the purpose of such a gathering, Allen Styles. I am not one to indulge in idle celebrations."

Allen smiled inwardly, sensing that Claude's aloofness was not a sign of disrespect but rather a test. He had seen this kind of behavior before—those who had already achieved so much didn't need the show. But tonight, Allen needed to make Claude see the potential in him.

"I understand," Allen replied smoothly, "but sometimes, these events provide an opportunity to discuss matters that cannot be addressed elsewhere. Perhaps… a more private conversation would be more fitting?"

Claude's eyes flickered momentarily, and Allen could tell that he was intrigued, though he still wore his usual air of indifference.

"Very well. Lead the way," he said, a slight shift in his posture signaling that he was open to hearing more.

Tobias, ever the obedient younger brother, offered a polite smile as Allen guided them toward a more secluded part of the hall. "We'll leave you to it, Teacher Styles," Tobias said with a soft chuckle, glancing at his brother-in-law.

"Thank you, Tobias," Allen said, giving him a small nod. "Enjoy the evening."

Once the three men were out of earshot, Allen motioned to a small, private room tucked away at the back of the hall. The room was modest, in stark contrast to the opulence of the banquet. A few chairs were arranged around a low table, and Allen gestured for Claude to sit.

"I've been following your work, Instructor," Allen began once the door was shut behind them. "Your battle force techniques are legendary. But beyond that, it's your philosophy of combat that interests me most." He took a seat, crossing his legs with a relaxed, yet attentive posture. "I think there's much I could learn from you, Claude. Not just about battle, but about life itself."

Claude sat down across from him, folding his arms with a skeptical look. "You think you can learn from me? You are… young, and you've barely made your mark on this city. What makes you think I would spend my time on you?"

Allen's smile never faltered. "I am well aware of your status Sir. With your insight and guidance, you have helped so many people including various senior instructor of our academy. I wouldn't be under the misconception that I can gain your guidance for free." He leaned forward slightly, his tone quiet but firm. "I equally have something to offer to you Sir."

Claude's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly considering Allen's words. The air between them was thick with unspoken calculations. Claude knows full well that Allen is a smart and talented young man, there is no way he would call him here and just to offer something useless.