TRPM 34

chapter 34

A being summoned through what is commonly called the Familiar Contract Magic Circle.

That’s how it’s generally known, but in truth, even though it’s called a “summon,” it’s not about calling forth a real creature that exists somewhere, nor pulling a being from another world.

The true role of the Familiar Contract Magic Circle is not to summon a familiar, but to use the contractor’s mental imagery and magical power to create a being that suits them.

‘Still, just because it’s born from the contractor’s mental image and magic power doesn’t mean it will take the exact form the contractor wants.’

Because of this, it’s said that what kind of familiar one contracts with depends largely on luck.

But that’s only the case with the current, commonly known Familiar Contract Magic Circle.

In the future, before my regression, a certain mage thoroughly interpreted and refined this magic circle.

‘That mage… right, he reworked the circle because he wanted to make the mythical dragon his familiar, didn’t he?’

And in the end, he succeeded in contracting with a dragon, becoming famous as “the mage who tamed a dragon.”

Of course, his own mana wasn’t nearly enough to sustain the dragon. So he uploaded all the knowledge about his improved familiar contract circle into the Awakeners’ System database, received royalties from its use, and converted those royalties into mana to barely maintain the dragon.

That’s how I came to know about that magic circle as well.

Anyway—

‘The knowledge that mage uploaded wasn’t just about fixing the familiar as a dragon. It also explained how to adjust the summoned familiar’s appearance and abilities as you wished, and even how to sustain it using energies other than mana.’

In other words, everything I need right now.

[Yeon Mirae. Draw the circle exactly as I’m imagining it right now. You have magic stones prepared, right?]

When I sent her a voice transmission, Yeon Mirae gave a slight nod only I could see.

She looked a bit puzzled when she saw the image of the magic circle I sent her, but trusted me and began drawing it.

[Wait, sprinkle a few more stones there. Yeah, like that.]

Still, Mirae’s talents lay in martial arts and physical skills, not magic. So while drawing the circle, she made frequent mistakes.

But that was fine.

I could guide and correct her as needed.

While Mirae drew the circle, I distracted Lee Ha-eun, who was whining that she wanted to contract with a puppy as soon as possible.

I couldn’t let her disturb Mirae, so I played with her myself.

“Phew…”

[Good work.]

After some time, a massive magic circle big enough to cover half the clearing was complete.

Mirae carefully stepped out so she wouldn’t damage the formation and sighed, and I praised her efforts.

“Unni, is it done?”
“Yeah. It’s done. All that’s left is to summon the familiar.”

While Mirae reassured Ha-eun, I double-checked the circle.

At its center was a rune meaning deceit, trickery, mischief. Around it, in three directions, were the words swamp, wolf; sea, serpent; girl, old man.

Anyone familiar with Norse mythology would realize at once: the central rune for mischief represented Loki, while the three sets of words represented his children: Fenrir, Jörmungandr, and Hel.

‘Ha-eun wants a cute little puppy.’

But what I want is a powerful familiar to protect her, since she’s specialized in support magic with low combat ability.

I could force abilities into the small puppy she wanted, but it would be far more efficient to restrict the strength of a mythical wolf and give it the appearance of a puppy.

…That’s right.

You’ve probably guessed it already.

The familiar I’m having Ha-eun contract with is none other than Fenrir.

‘The powers given by the Awakener System—magic, aura, psychic abilities—ultimately come from stories people are familiar with, like fantasy tales.’

The key fact here: stories themselves hold power.

This circle overlays the story of Fenrir from mythology onto Ha-eun’s familiar, channeling that story’s strength into it.

Of course, it’s not the real Fenrir—just a familiar with similar traits.

“…So that’s how it works. Stories have that kind of power…”
[Huh? You didn’t know?]
“I didn’t.”

When I explained the principle through voice transmission, Mirae answered quietly.

Now that I thought about it, the fact that stories carry power wasn’t officially known.

But some people had figured it out.

[You know those people who claim to be the reincarnation of famous generals, heroes, or even gods? At the very least, they’ve sensed this ‘power of stories.’]
“…I always thought they were just crazy. Though I never ruled out the possibility that they might really be reincarnations…”

Mirae sounded genuinely astonished.

[Why don’t you try calling yourself the reincarnation of a legendary swordsman? Who knows? You might get stronger through the story’s power.]
“…Even if I understand this now, I’d rather not be treated like one of those lunatics.”

Fair enough.

Before my regression, I’d thought about calling myself the Heavenly Demon to borrow story power, but decided against it—I’d just be labeled insane.

Not to mention, there really was someone already calling themselves the Heavenly Demon back then.

In a way, they were admirable.

…But I’m getting sidetracked.

[Send Ha-eun to the center of the circle. Have her face the direction with Fenrir’s rune.]
“Ha-eun, time to make your contract with a puppy. Go stand in the middle and look that way, okay?”
“Okay!”

Ha-eun did as Mirae said, standing in the circle’s center and facing Fenrir’s direction.

That fulfilled the minimum conditions.

“Summon.”

I activated the circle with word magic.

“Resonate.”

I guided the circle to operate as I intended.

“Restrict.”

I suppressed the familiar’s power as much as possible—otherwise Ha-eun wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Change.”

I switched the energy the familiar would draw from mana to aura instead.

Finally—

“Form.”

I changed its outward appearance from the mythic wolf to that of an ordinary puppy.

“Wow!”
“Woof!”

The massive magic circle vanished, and a small puppy appeared before Ha-eun.

She couldn’t contain herself and ran to hug it tightly.

The puppy, now her familiar, didn’t resist her touch.

“Hehe! My puppy!”
“Pant, pant…”

Does Ha-eun realize?

Among all the familiars in the world, hers might be one of the strongest.

For now, with its abilities suppressed, it looked no different from an ordinary puppy—or even less.

But as Ha-eun grew, the restrictions would gradually loosen.

“…Haa.”

Watching her, I let out a sigh.

After all, not only had I just used word magic repeatedly—a type I rarely employed—but I had also paid all the energy required to summon Fenrir and to suppress its power.

Not mana, but my inner qi.

Now my dantian was completely drained.

“Thank you for your hard work.”
“…Yeah, thanks.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I had emptied my dantian like this.

It would fill again after some meditation back at the inn.

“But… Gunwoo-nim…”
“…Hm?”
“Could I… also contract with a familiar?”

Mirae looked at the puppy licking Ha-eun’s cheek, eyes full of envy.

“It’s possible. Like Ha-eun, we could modify the circle so you’d pay with inner qi instead of aura.”
“Then…”
“But it wouldn’t be efficient.”

Ha-eun is a multiple-ability user. Since she’ll only study magic from now on, her aura is surplus—so a familiar contract works for her.

But for anyone else, especially Mirae, familiars aren’t very efficient.

“You already have limited inner qi, so you need to conserve it in battle. Are you really going to give that precious qi away to a familiar?”

And unless it’s a special case, you can’t expect a familiar to return as much value as the qi you pour in.

“…You’re right. That won’t work. As much as I’d like one, I’ll have to give up on a familiar.”

Mirae sighed, then asked another question.

“Then why do mages contract with familiars? It’s not like they have unlimited mana.”
“Ah, that? Usually, there are two big reasons.”

First—

“They need a familiar to take the vanguard. Mages are defenseless while casting.”

Normal magic requires chanting or casting time.

My word magic was designed to minimize that delay, but most can’t.

Of course, in proper raiding parties, a vanguard usually protects the mage. But since that vanguard can’t always be trusted, some prefer familiars instead.

“…If Ha-eun heard that, she’d be horrified. It basically means her puppy could end up as a shield.”
“Well, that puppy isn’t exactly ordinary. And the second reason—”

Appearance.

“…What?”
“Image. To look like an outstanding mage.”

Familiars were often just for show.

If a mage could afford to maintain one, it implied they had surplus mana.

Of course, sometimes it backfired—mages contracted a familiar just to show off and ended up too weak to handle even basic spells.

“There are also those who distrust people and only interact with their familiars, or mages like Ha-eun who just want a pet. But usually, it’s those two reasons.”
“…I think my illusions about mages just shattered.”

Well, mages are human too.

I glanced at Ha-eun again.

“Sarang-ah! Fetch!”
“Woof!”

At some point, she’d even named her familiar “Sarang.” She tossed a stick for it to fetch.

Granted, with her strength, the stick didn’t fly very far, but the two of them looked happy enough.

“Ha-eun should never become a baseball player.”

I agreed with Mirae’s remark and simply waited until Ha-eun tired herself out playing with her new familiar.