MD— CHAPTER 1 (Patreon)

Title: Prologue

"Coming, Mother," Sparow replied in dull enthusiasm. It was easy to achieve such a mythical state of mind. It just needed to be one's age of coming ceremony. The 21st birthday, to be precise. And of course, such a being should be just waking up under the cruel chill of dawn, his hands clutching against the blanket but the person's heart ready to leave. So, considering the most rational option, Sparow got out of the bed with his blanket draping over him, a cozy pair of slippers snuggling his toes in their warmth, fuzzy embrace. With his room only consisting of a single bed and butt load of 'used' posters of the famous humanoid familiars, nothing to feel excited for tight in the morning with his morning wood already deflated by the screeching call of the demon that would terrorize him no longer, Sparow walked out of his room, once again counting his blessings that their home was a smaller one.

Just contained within a single floor.

"Let's get this day started," Sparow looked at the woman remarkably similar to him. Bulky, to the muscular side. Dark-haired, chiseled face and a set of brown eyes. Sparow didn't earn a single trait from his father, who couldn't handle his wife one day and made a run for it. Too bad, he accidentally fell into the breeding pen and now he was registered to a 'cuckoo' house. As the doctor stated, his father being a low-tier summoner and not in control of his emotions had gone clinically insane.

"Good day to you, too, Behemoth," Sparow greeted. He wasn't making fun of her. Monsters, no! Behemoth was her name and Sparow realized after his first broken arm that there are limits to his mother's patience. It was surprising she even had a bar of patience.

As a lecturer in the Society of Familiars, Branch Quin, Behemoth had learned to be a cut-to-the-point mother. "Have you memorized the mnemonics of Familiars, Resources, and Places?" She inquired as Sparow felt an invisible force taking off his blanket, revealing his blue pajamas. "Yes, mother. Just like you asked, I have deleted the materials of the university from my communicator."

"Good, I took it for a double-check," behemoth threw a wristband which Sparow caught promptly. Taking a look into his communicator, Sparow's expression turned a notch duller. 'She hard-rebooted it... there goes my stash...'

Sighing to himself once he checked his credits, a full of 5000 points, Sparow looked up.

"I will be leaving then," he stated plainly as he made way towards the exit of the house without giving the place another look. For a moment, Behemoth's expression fluctuated as she coughed, "You are forgetting the age-of-coming embrace."

"Haven't forgotten it," Sparow uttered while opening the door, "Statistically speaking, 30% of the newbies cannot survive the ordeal. This ceremony is the only fair event in the entire continent. The state princes, the royal princes, and various other elitists alongside every 21-year-old individual are tasked with becoming a rank-1 summoner in a year. The starting line for everyone is the same. 5000 credits. To make things fair, those who cannot afford the beginning amount will have to take a loan from the country's trust."

"What's this got to do with the tradition?" Behemoth whispered her inquiry.

"My point is, I want to be in the successful 70%. You have taught me to reign my emotions... mother. Hugging you now out of fear for my future is a blemish to your teachings. I'll conclude the ceremony once I achieve my goal." Saying so, Sparow walked out while Behemoth grunted in frustration when she heard the extension of her son's inspiring speech, in whispers, of course, "And you deleted decade worth of porn. I'm angry. Too angry."

'And, just like that, I am on the streets in my pajamas,' Sparow thought to himself as he gazed at his neighboring houses. Some tall and luxurious while others just like Behemoths. A brick house with beige paint on the exterior and whatever they wished to personalized the interior with. But considering the nature of Behemoth's colleagues, Sparow was pretty sure that their interior was quite normal.

'Let's start with a pair of clothes for the day and a ticket to Brisk City. Quin is too expensive to operate in. Not to mention, the inland nature of the city with the best possible trade routes cut off the possibility of encountering a wild familiar. No one wants a domestic pet for their chakras,' Moving his toes within his comfy slippers, the only good thing left in his life, Sparow hugged his muscular frame and made his way towards the local market street to buy some cheap outfit. With weapons being a luxury in the city, it was far more sensible to but the items worth keeping for a long term in Brisk City due to their demand-supply of weapons and competitive prices.

"Brrr..." Sparow shivered silently as he came across another kindred spirit walking the streets alone. But he wore a better outfit than Sparow.

In fact, even if Sparow had decided to wear a favorable outfit, Behemoth would have stripped him off any advantages. The set of pajamas and his heartfelt speech was a distraction for Behemoth so that she wouldn't focus on his premium slippers and as far as plans go, his journey began with an absolute win.

Recalling his porn, Sparow sighed for the umpteenth time.

'I wan the battle but at a scarring cost...'

***

A/N: Please give me suggestions if I should pursue a monster-summon genre novel. Of course, smutty, but limited to 7 girls at most. This idea just struck me and now I will be sleeping

Name of the Novel— Monster Delights