I Only Summon Amazon Giantesses

Mark woke with a low groan, slowly realizing he was under the care of the school’s medical center. He lay on a narrow sickbed, a thin blanket pulled up from his feet to his chest. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed steadily behind his skull, most likely the aftermath of his head slamming against something unforgiving.

The school nurse, a petite woman with a pink, slanted bob hairstyle, dressed in a crisp white coat over pale blue scrubs, stood near the bed, worry etched clearly across her face. Even in her professional attire, she carried a young, well put together presence.

Her expression shifted the moment she noticed Mark stirring awake. Shock flickered across her face first, as though she genuinely hadn’t expected it so soon, quickly replaced by a flood of visible relief. She pressed both hands to her chest and let out a long, steadying sigh.

Mark frowned faintly at the reaction. He still hated being confined here, surrounded by that same sharp, stinging medical scent that always dragged his mind straight back to memories of his mother’s own case in the sickbed.

"You’re finally awake... I mean, of course, we fully expected you to. Are you feeling alright?" the nurse asked gently. She clearly knew exactly who lay before her.

The entire school was, by now, well aware of his infamous role in bringing down the school’s once untouchable Grand Hall. Some students had grown noticeably more cautious and wary around him because of it, while others harbored quiet resentment, loathing him with open disdain and disapproval.

Plenty of people had complained, demanding some form of justice over the destruction of what had once been Amstral’s most celebrated landmark, yet the school administration had handled the entire matter with surprising ease, insisting they held absolute logic behind their decision throughout.

Alongside that, the administration had issued repeated warnings against any leaked information that might draw further unwanted attention, though by now, that effort had largely failed, word having already spread through the public in various ways.

It was, in truth, an almost inevitable outcome in a world like this one, where very little ever stayed fully hidden from those in power for long.

Still, there remained a far deeper reason behind the school’s genuine concern over unwanted attention, one running well beyond simple embarrassment over property damage.

It centered entirely on the sudden emergence of a Monarch Tier summoner carrying entirely unclassified potential, the kind of rare, staggering discovery treasured across the entire region, something as precious as a gem falling straight from the heavens, or a wish granting shooting star caught mid-flight.

Among the wider population, roughly eighty five percent eventually awakened some measure of summoning potential.

Yet the overwhelming majority never came anywhere close to Monarch Tier, most instead settling somewhere around Champion Tier or lower. Major guilds and cities alike had spent years actively hunting for exactly this kind of rising talent, someone carrying genuinely staggering, once in a generation potential.

Individuals with that level of promise were typically funneled straight into the Readjustment Programme before formal enrollment under guild or governmental oversight, a system supposedly designed to prevent them from ever becoming the next Dark Summoner, or worse, one of his loyal followers.

Rumor had it that anyone subjected to the programme emerged with their memories effectively wiped clean, reduced to something closer to an obedient drone or puppet rather than a fully autonomous person.

That single possibility alone made the whole process feel considerably more sinister and terrifying, though it was supposedly carried out for the good of the wider public, preventing the very real risk of a single individual’s runaway power eventually devastating an entire region through uncontrolled progression.

For now, at least, it remained firmly in the school’s best interest to keep their rare, valuable discovery quiet from the outside world entirely, and possibly, if circumstances demanded it, even from Mark himself.

Mark didn’t respond right away, not out of any deliberate rudeness, but because his attention had already drifted toward the bedridden junior resting in the bed beside his own, edgy green hair streaked with dark roots spread messily across the pillow, some modest space separating the two beds.

There was something almost comically ironic about the idea of a once dominant bully now sharing the exact same room as the very person he had once tormented, though Mark never truly framed it that way in his own mind. Still, the irony wasn’t lost on him entirely.

"Can you tell me what time it is, and how long we’ve actually been here?" Mark asked, pushing himself upright, adjusting his position against the growing discomfort of lying flat for too long.

"Oh, it’s still fairly early in the morning. Honestly, it’s a relief you woke up this early, I was half expecting to end up extending my shift well past its usual hours. Thank you both for that small mercy, at least." The nurse glanced down at her clipboard, scribbling a quick note before continuing.

"Whenever you both feel ready to head out, your discharge has already been approved, given your current condition," she informed them, before turning and stepping away.

Mark’s gaze followed her retreating stride, the gentle sway of her hips carrying her toward the far end of the room, disappearing behind a long curtain sealing off the next compartment.

A soft cough from his left pulled his attention firmly back toward Derek, who stirred slightly, blinking his eyes open. Their gazes met for a brief, charged moment before both instinctively looked away.

Something strange settled uneasily in Mark’s chest, a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

Maybe it really was just as odd as it felt, ending up in the exact same situation as the very person who had once made his life as a mundane so miserably difficult. Not that his anger had simply vanished. But somehow, this time, something inside him felt noticeably lighter, subtly different from before.

Carrying old grudges and lingering resentment around indefinitely had never really been worth the weight it added to daily life. He had already spent more than enough time dragging those feelings behind him, and maybe there was simply no good reason left to keep letting them weigh him down further.

It felt better, he decided, to finally set some of that burden aside, breathing a little easier without so much accumulated bitterness pressing against his chest.

"Hey, um, mind if I ask why you actually went through all that trouble for me? Even after everything between us, after everything I did to you..." Derek’s voice carried none of its usual bold, defiant edge. Something quieter, more uncertain, had crept into it instead.

Mark lingered quietly for a moment before turning slightly toward him, the thin blanket rustling softly against the silence stretching between them. "Because using a summon for a full, unrestrained attack outside of proper combat class, without even relying on Echo or Symbiosis, is against school law, especially against someone clearly weaker. Some people really need to sit with their own thoughts before making decisions like that."

Derek let out a small chuckle, shifting his head slightly against the pillow. "You just had to go with that answer, huh? Come on, I know that’s not the real reason behind it. There’s something more there. I already know it. Just be straight with me, bro."

Mark’s eyes met his again, calm and steady as ever, betraying nothing. "What do you think?" He let out a small sigh, tilting his gaze upward toward the ceiling.

"Fine. Honestly, I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing while my own roommate was in real danger. It didn’t sit right with me."

Derek smirked faintly before letting out a long, tired sigh of his own. "So you’re telling me you actually cared, even for someone who’s spent this whole time flaunting himself, treating other people like they’re beneath him?"

Mark shook his head slowly. "You’ve been a jerk, no argument there. But I can still give credit where it’s due."

Derek raised an eyebrow, genuinely struggling to understand why this particular sophomore seemed to be taking everything in stride so easily. Somehow, that quiet composure felt far more unsettling than any typical reaction someone in his position might have shown instead.

"Ever since I first arrived here and became the main target of bullying and constant harassment, it completely reshaped how I understood summoners, and how much real weight they actually carry within this whole world.

I had to force myself to readjust, especially once most of that harassment started coming directly from my own roommate. It’s what pushed me to finally treat discipline and consistent training as an actual priority."

The reality of bullying and victimization had never truly revolved solely around him either, not like some magnetic center of gravity. Plenty of other summoners out there remained just as weak, vulnerable, and exposed to that same kind of mistreatment. Still, all Mark really had to draw from was his own lived experience, and that alone had shaped him deeply.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "It made me tougher than most Basic Tier summoners, at least back when I was still an ordinary mundane. Honestly, you became my driving force in a strange way, the wind pushing my sails forward whenever I felt like giving up.

It was pretty obvious you were trying to break me down, trying to knock me off whatever path I was supposed to walk. But instead, it gave me something to push against, something that reassured me I still had a fight left in me. If it hadn’t been for that, I might have just quietly fallen apart on my own, stuck somewhere between sulking and giving up entirely."

Mark paused for a moment, his gaze drifting somewhere distant, unfocused. There was no real hatred left in his expression anymore, only a quiet, hard won understanding that certain experiences reshaped a person in ways they never could have predicted going in.

"I’m not going to sit here and say what happened was good, because it wasn’t. None of it was fair, and I’m not pretending otherwise. But I learned something from it, even if I never asked to. I learned that being weak once doesn’t mean I’m obligated to stay that way forever, and being treated badly doesn’t automatically turn a person bitter, not unless they let it. Maybe that’s really the only thing worth holding onto from everything that happened between us."

"I’d say thanks for putting it that way, but honestly, I already paid you back by kicking your ass that one time, and dragging you out of that mess just now probably covers the rest." Mark’s eyes flicked toward him, a knowing look settling behind them.

Derek’s expression remained frozen for a long moment, still processing everything he’d just heard. Something about it landed strangely, both comforting and uncomfortable at once, though deep down, he had to admit there was real, undeniable truth buried in it.

"So does that make me some kind of twisted inspiration, then? Like all that harshness and mistreatment actually earns its own kind of merit somehow, considering how it turned out for you? Does that put me in the right, too?"

"No."

Mark’s blunt reply pulled a short laugh out of both of them, though they quickly caught themselves, wincing as the sudden movement threatened to stir fresh aches from whatever had landed them here in the first place.

"Still, though, you’re covering the cost of my coffee. That was a limited synthetic blend, and I’d been dying to try it for weeks."

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A/N: Headache is the worst. Anyway, hoped that you had a nice happy read. Please help support the book by adding to your library, golden tickets and giving PS.

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