Ice Partner and Peaceful Days: A Banished Summoner's Life with a Lone Knight
Glenn, a 30-year-old summoner, is expelled from his B-rank party 'Crimson Fang' for only being able to summon a single Living Armor. Their leader, Zex, dismisses him coldly: 'Your summon can't hold the front line.' Glenn simply says, 'I see,' and leaves without a fight.
However, the Living Armor he poured all his magic into for fifteen years has secretly evolved into a higher being with its own will—a 'Living Knight.' Glenn himself, through relentless training, possesses three times the magic c
Ice Partner and Peaceful Days: A Banished Summoner's Life with a Lone Knight - Notice of Release from Duty
Early summer sunlight streamed into the Mutual Aid Society hall, accompanied by the sound of light footsteps.
Glen walked into the stone building of the Tervaerk Adventurers' Mutual Aid Society at his usual unhurried pace. The morning air still held the dampness of last night's rain, and the stone walls felt cool and cold to the touch.
Behind the reception counter, a young receptionist was busily sorting through documents. The familiar woman looked up, noticed Glen, and gave him a small nod.
Glen raised a hand lightly in return.
The Mutual Aid Society — officially named the Tervaerk Adventurers' Mutual Aid Society — served as the base of operations for those working as adventurers in Heldine. He had heard it was established about ninety years ago, in the wake of a massive monster outbreak known as the Ash Flood. Since then, it had handled everything adventurers needed for their work, from mediating requests to conducting rank examinations.
Take a request, complete it, receive payment. That simple, natural cycle turned here, in this place.
Glen gazed absently at the bundles of request forms posted on the wall. From herb gathering to monster subjugation, the difficulty and rewards ranged from rock bottom to sky high. All of these were requests from someone who needed someone else's help.
(*Now then, what should I...*)
"Glen."
The voice came from behind him, cutting through his thoughts.
He didn't need to turn around. A familiar voice, but with a harder edge than usual today. It was the party leader, Zex.
Zex stood with his arms crossed, leaning back against the wall.
As if to demonstrate his prowess as a magic swordsman, he wore a longsword at his hip with a fire magic stone embedded in it. His narrow eyes always brimmed with confidence, and his expression seemed to constantly appraise those around him. His reddish hair blazed brilliantly in the light streaming through the window.
Behind him stood two other companions.
One was Mireille. Her rich amber hair was tied back in a single bundle today. Her eyes, the deep green of a forest, wavered as if she wanted to say something. As an earth mage, she was primarily responsible for long-range support and constructing defensive formations. A fiery reddish-brown robe enveloped her small frame.
The other was the heavy warrior Gald. A shaved head with small, sharp gray eyes. His massive 195-centimeter frame was wrapped in thick steel armor, and he carried a great axe taller than himself on his back. His usually sullen face was even stiffer today.
"What is it?"
Glen looked back at Zex with calm gray eyes.
The morning hall was already crowded with dozens of adventurers, each spending their morning in their own way. Some scrutinized request forms, some headed out together, and a young man on a bench in the corner yawned, still looking half-asleep. It was the same scene as always.
Zex stepped forward. Was it just Glen's imagination, or did that motion seem oddly theatrical?
"Glen. I have something to discuss with you."
The volume of the surrounding conversations dropped just slightly.
Zex's voice carried strangely well. As if he intended for everyone to hear from the very beginning.
"I'll get straight to the point. You're out of the party."
Glen said nothing.
"Just one living armor. Do you really think that's enough to handle B-rank requests?"
Zex's tone was calm, but his eyes were fixed intently on Glen.
"You lack firepower. Always, always sticking to defense, delaying enemies with cold air... The requests from now on won't be easy enough for a coward's methods like that."
Coward.
The word echoed through the hall.
He sensed someone catch their breath. Someone else watched with keen interest.
Glen stood there, listening to Zex's words. His short, near-black dark blue hair swayed slightly in the breeze. A black robe chosen for ease of movement. Lightweight black-dyed leather armor beneath it. A silver pendant for magic control at his neck. A silver ring for magic stabilization on his left ring finger. And in his right hand, his usual metal staff — a piece he had personally adjusted, with a blue-glowing magic stone embedded in its tip.
Countless small scars from years of fine-tuning staffs covered his fingertips and palms. They now stood out white in the light from the window.
"Zex, the way you're saying this..."
Mireille started to speak. But Zex silenced her with a hand.
"This is a necessary decision. Mireille, you understand that too."
Mireille lowered her face. She bit her lip, as if holding something back.
Gald remained silent the entire time. Arms crossed, he just glared at the floor. His large frame seemed strangely small today.
Glen looked at the two of them, then at Zex.
"...I see."
He answered briefly.
Had he ever settled everything with such short words before? There was no anger, no sadness. He simply accepted the fact. That was all his voice conveyed.
For a moment, Zex looked taken aback.
"You understand. Then let's proceed with the paperwork."
Glen walked up to the counter and spoke to the receptionist who had been sorting documents earlier.
"Could you process the cancellation of my party registration?"
The receptionist looked back and forth between Glen and Zex with a bewildered expression, but eventually accepted his adventurer's card in silence.
Canceling a party registration at the Mutual Aid Society was such a simple procedure. One signature on a document. That was all it took to end everything. Fifteen years of fighting alongside his comrades, severed by a single sheet of paper.
(*How anticlimactic.*)
Glen thought absently.
Once the procedure was finished, he headed toward the small room in the back where the party's shared belongings were stored.
"I'll just go get my personal things."
He murmured, not directed at anyone in particular.
Behind him, Zex was saying something, but it didn't reach his ears.
The shared storage room was dim and dusty. Glen walked without hesitation to the shelf where his personal belongings were kept. A handmade staff adjustment kit — a small leather pouch packed tightly with a knife, engraving needles, files, and the like. And one small box of magic stones.
That was all.
That was all he had left behind in this party.
Glen picked up the kit and left the shared storage room.
Zex was still in the hall. He raised his voice toward Glen's back as he headed for the exit.
"Go ahead and get cozy with that scrap metal!"
It was mockery.
Glen didn't look back.
Mireille took half a step forward, as if wanting to say something. But in the end, no voice came out. Her green eyes wavered sadly.
Gald uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists tightly. But that was all. He couldn't stop Zex, nor could he call out to Glen.
Glen pushed open the heavy door of the Mutual Aid Society.
The early summer sunlight felt pleasant on his skin.
The bustle of the city reached his ears. The calls of merchants in the marketplace. The creaking of carriage wheels on the cobblestones. Children laughing in the distance.
Once outside the building, Glen took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
(*Ah, that's a relief.*)
Something like a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
It wasn't anger. Nor was it sadness.
It was a feeling of release.
It wasn't that he had spent a long time agonizing over his place within the party. Rather, he felt he had been fulfilling his role in his own way. Defense and obstruction. If someone didn't provide support from the rear, the vanguard was nothing but a target. His cold air slowed enemy movements, and his living armor served as a shield to protect his comrades.
But that had ended today.
Now that it was over, it didn't really matter.
Glen began walking southeast through the city of Heldine.
The commercial city of Heldine was the second largest city in the Falnica Federated Autonomous Territory. Its population was roughly 45,000. Located on the banks of the Nire River, a tributary of the Elda, it was surrounded by multiple dungeons and monster habitats. As a result, adventurers came and went frequently, and the city was always brimming with energy.
He passed through the central plaza and headed toward the city walls.
The main street, lined with stone buildings, gradually narrowed. The crowds thinned out, and eventually he passed through the city gate.
Outside the walls, the sky was wide open.
In the distance, he could see the mountain range marking the direction of the Nire River Valley. Magic trees grew wild in that valley. They were a precious wood used for making staffs. It was a place he had visited many times to gather materials.
After walking a little further, he arrived at his destination.
On the southeastern outskirts of the city, about a ten-minute walk from the walls. There, a small single-story house stood alone. It was originally an abandoned blacksmith's hut. A simple building with a stone foundation and more than half of it made of wood. Moss grew on the roof, and the wall boards were rotting in places.
But it wasn't bad.
Glen thought so.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The interior was dim and musty. An old furnace remained in the part that had once been the smithy, and the traces of workbenches and soot-stained walls bore the remnants of that time. In the back, there was a small living space, and further behind that, a small room that looked like it could serve as a material storage.
"Alright."
Glen placed his staff on the floor and held out his left hand.
His magic power stabilized through the silver ring, then concentrated.
"Come."
A short incantation. This was enough for his summoning magic. For fifteen years, he had poured his magic power into a single existence. He had needed nothing else.
A magic circle of pale blue light spread across the floor at his feet. Geometric patterns rotated in complex ways, and space itself trembled slightly.
And then.
The light converged, and it appeared.
A massive figure in dark blue heavy armor. 210 centimeters tall. Its entire body was covered in thick steel plate, a giant battle axe the size of a human head in its right arm. An impregnable great shield in its left. Deep within its visor, a pale blue light shone quietly, as if possessing a will of its own.
A summoned entity — a Living Knight.
Originally, it had been what was called a living armor: an armored soldier animated by fixing magic power into inorganic matter. Normally, a summoner would command three to five summoned entities.
They would use them as needed, employing them for attack or defense depending on the situation.
Concentrating magic power on just one was considered inefficient. But Glen had poured everything into this single entity for fifteen years.
And this was the result.
The Living Knight was no longer a mere armor puppet. It possessed something akin to a sense of self and could communicate with Glen without exchanging words. In terms of individual combat ability, it possessed power comparable to a high-ranking B-rank adventurer.
That was a fact no one else knew yet.
Glen touched the Living Knight's shield. The cold sensation of steel transmitted to his palm.
"Looks like this is going to be our new home. We've done nothing but fight up until now, after all."
The Living Knight was silent. It was an existence that never spoke in the first place.
But its shield tilted slightly.
As if to face Glen.
The magic light deep within its armor pulsed gently. It was a gesture of affirmation.
"Thank you."
Glen smiled and began to mentally plan the layout. The workshop and store space would be best where the furnace had been. He would put the workbench there too. The back room would be the living space, and the small room behind that would be the material storage.
(*I'll need to make a sign too.*)
While he was thinking about such things, the sun began to set.
Dusk approached, and the color of the light coming through the window changed.
Glen l
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