Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!-Chapter 123: Offers!

Creed walked over to the stack of letters with the calm, tired gait of a man who’d just spent several days being hunted, hustling people out of their life savings, and casually activating a badass spear domain.

The letters were stacked like a little tower right beside the door, so neatly placed it almost felt like someone had arranged them just to make a statement.

He crouched down and picked them all up, frowning slightly.

This was the first time he’d ever received physical mail from the infamous Invisible Nova Courier Services.

They were the elite delivery agency known for somehow delivering packages to any location in the world, no matter how hidden or locked it was.

At least, that was what they said on their website.

But even knowing that, seeing that these papers had made their way into his apartment without the door even being opened was... more than a little disturbing.

Creed turned to glance at the securely locked door behind him, then looked back at the now-empty spot where the letters had been stacked.

His brow furrowed as the implications settled in.

So... if they could just waltz into people’s houses and drop mail without permission... does privacy even exist anymore?

Why was something like this even allowed to occur in the first place? And shouldn’t his permission be gotten before just randomly teleporting any thing into his own home?

This was too scary!

He half expected to look up and see a pair of glowing eyes in the ceiling watching him read!

"Creepy bastards," he muttered, giving the door a suspicious glance just in case.

But then he shrugged it off with the tired indifference of someone who’d seen way too much weird stuff lately and accepted that questioning things only led to headaches.

He carried the stack into the living room and dropped them onto the table with a light thump.

Even before he opened the first one, he already had a good guess as to what these were.

And sure enough, the second he scanned the senders’ labels, his heart did a tiny, involuntary thump. He narrowed his eyes at the top envelope.

It was from the Lunarth Family. Creed’s brows rose slightly in surprise.

The Lunarths were a small-time Tier 3 family—not among the global elites, but still far above the Tier 5 garbage class where he initially resided.

They were based way across the world in another region entirely though, and the fact that they already knew about him meant that his news had traveled a lot faster than he’d expected!

The academy’s first trial had just ended. Just ended! How the hell were invitations already landing on his floor like pizza coupons?

With a skeptical sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

The handwriting was overly elegant, obviously written by someone who believed that curly font automatically made them sound rich and impressive.

He read the opening lines out loud, voice dripping with sarcastic amusement:

"To the Esteemed Lord Creed,

We of the noble Lunarth Family extend our utmost admiration and respectful greetings to a rising star whose talents have echoed across the continents.

After careful consideration and observation of your performance during the academy’s opening trials, we would be deeply honored to offer you the status of an Honored Guest within our house, with full sponsorship benefits, as well as access to our family resources and training grounds..."

Creed stopped reading and sat back in his chair, blinking slowly. freewёbnoνel.com

"...They even capitalized Honored Guest like it’s a job title." He stood up, walked to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of cold water.

As he drank, his mind buzzed, not just with thoughts, but with a mixture of memories and long-suppressed irritation.

He’d predicted this kind of thing would happen eventually.

He wasn’t stupid. The moment he went full flashy-mode in the rift and raked in over 56 million credits, activated a spear domain, and casually outplayed hundreds of desperate students, he knew someone would come knocking.

The Ambassadors Academy Entrance Exam was a global spectacle, after all. The top bastions were probably streaming the entire thing to their faction elders with popcorn in hand.

But what threw him off was the speed at which it happened.

They didn’t even give him a day to rest. Not even a few hours. He was just now coming back from the rift, still in the same clothes, and already there were families offering sponsorships?

It was ridiculous... and it was also a little funny. Two months ago, he’d been desperate for offers like this. Almost begging for them, in fact.

Back then, when he first reincarnated into this world and awakened his SSS-rank talent, he’d practically leapt in joy.

SSS talents were basically cheat codes. They were so rare and powerful that people who had them were usually snatched up immediately by the top families, trained in luxury, and given the red carpet treatment.

He thought the offers would pour in. He imagined being greeted with parties and VIP tickets to the elite training camps!

But then the twist came.

His SSS talent turned out to be a summoning-type.

And not just any summoning type—it was a mysterious, misunderstood, and difficult-to-predict version that no one in his bottom-tier, forgotten corner of the world even knew how to handle.

Tier 5 bastions were already scraping the bottom of the barrel when it came to resources. But when it came to summoners?

They were basically still in the stone age. None of the factions in his initial bastion had any interest in training a summoner, and even when he tried reaching out to neighboring bastions... nothing.

No offers. No calls. Not even a "we’ll think about it." It was like the second they heard "summoning," everyone collectively agreed to ghost him!

Looking back on it now, something about that felt... off.

Even if summoning wasn’t the most popular path, an SSS-rank was still an SSS-rank.

Why hadn’t anyone come forward? Why had everyone ignored him completely, like he was cursed or invisible?

Creed narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers slowly on the glass in his hand. Was it really because of the talent type? Or... was there something else going on?

He glanced back at the table, where at least two dozen other letters still sat unopened.

Each one was probably from a different family, faction, or organization now desperate to scoop up the mysterious, blue-eyed spear lord who’d just bullied his way through the first trial like a boss-level NPC.

Creed exhaled through his nose and chuckled. "Two months of nothing. Now they’re all tripping over themselves." His eyes sharpened. Fine then... let’s see just how high I can make them climb.

Although summoning-type talents were often seen as more of a gamble than an investment in the world of dimensions, that didn’t mean they were weak.

The truth was, summoning talents were rare and extremely versatile—if nurtured correctly, they could become monstrous powerhouses that could take on entire armies by themselves!

The problem wasn’t in their strength but in their cost. They required far more resources to develop than other paths.

Training a summoner to the peak meant not just helping the summoner grow, but also helping their summoned beasts grow—feeding them, training them, outfitting them with gear, and unlocking their own abilities.

It was like sponsoring a full team of awakened instead of just one person.

Most factions simply couldn’t afford that kind of investment unless they were really confident in the summoner’s potential.

And even then, most still avoided it unless the talent was already proven to be worth the trouble.

But Creed’s summoning talent wasn’t just any summoning talent—it was an SSS-rank!

That was the highest possible rating, the kind of thing that only showed up once in a million awakenings.

Even if no one understood how to train a summoner, someone should’ve at least tried to scout him.

And yet, it had been complete radio silence, like he didn’t even exist. That had struck him as weird even back then.

Had someone truly blocked him? Had someone been suppressing his name? Or maybe someone didn’t want people to notice him until the right moment?

He made a few vague predictions, pondering the hidden possibilities, but then sighed and shook his head.

There was no use trying to solve mysteries he didn’t have the clues for yet. For now, he’d focus on the things in front of him.

He picked up the second letter and opened it with a flick of his thumb.

This one came from a Tier 4 mercenary guild called The Ivory Prowlers, based somewhere near the edge of the central region.

The letter praised his combat sense, his business smarts, and his ruthless efficiency.

It offered him a full scholarship into their organization, complete with housing, training, missions, and access to their summoner archives.

Creed read it calmly, then set it aside without much of a change in expression. He could already tell that this would be the tone for the rest of the letters.

And he was right.

He spent the next full hour on the couch, reading through letter after letter, sipping water occasionally, and letting his eyes flick from one carefully-worded offer to the next.

Some were brief and business-like. Others were unnecessarily dramatic, using words like "glorious destiny" and "fate-guided brilliance."

A few even included brochures with glossy pictures of their training facilities and "happy students" who were clearly forced to smile for the camera!

One particularly bold organization even sent a small glowing crystal as a token of goodwill, which hovered out of the envelope and chirped a pre-recorded message in an overly excited voice.

Creed threw it into the kitchen sink to shut it up when it kept chirping the same message repeatedly without stop!

By the time he was done, the sun had dipped a little lower outside his window and the pile of opened letters had grown into a chaotic mess beside him.

He leaned back on the couch, stretched, and closed his eyes with a long, heavy sigh.

The whole thing had been exhausting, not because the letters were hard to read, but because they all basically said the same thing.

We saw you. We want you. Please join us before someone else does!

In total, there were letters from 27 different organizations.

He took a mental note and broke them down: 1 from a Tier 4 organization, 22 from Tier 3 organizations, and—this was the real shocker—4 from Tier 2 organizations!

That number alone was enough to make any ordinary unaffiliated youth lose their mind.

It was important to understand what this meant. In this world, organizations were ranked based on the strength and influence of the bastion they controlled.

A Tier 5 organization controlled a Tier 5 bastion which was a small, low-resource, barely scraping by.

A Tier 4 had more power and resources, a Tier 3 even more, and so on.

To become a Tier 2 organization, a faction had to control an entire Tier 2 bastion, and those things weren’t easy to manage.

They were like massive countries, usually filled with elite-level citizens, strong awakened, and strong dimensional infrastructures.

There were only 32 Tier 2 bastions on Earth, which meant only 32 Tier 2 organizations could exist at a time.

And Tier 1? Those were the true monsters. Only seven Tier 1 organizations existed in the entire world, and they were the kinds of groups that could shift the course of the world!

So for Creed—someone who had spent the last two months being ignored like a no-name NPC—to suddenly receive not one, not two, but four invitations from Tier 2 organizations meant something very big:

His name had officially reached the higher circles.

He wasn’t just a promising youth anymore—he was a confirmed Tier 1 genius.

His performance in the rift must’ve shocked far more people than he’d thought. And now, it was only a matter of time before even more organizations came knocking.

He wouldn’t be surprised if one of the Tier 1 powerhouses decided to pay him a visit soon.

Still... he couldn’t help but feel conflicted.

On one hand, this was everything he’d wanted when he first arrived in this world. Recognition. Power. Opportunity.

But now that he had it, the question was... what would he do with it? Which path should he take? Which faction—if any—should he trust with his future?

Should he play them against each other and hold out for an even bigger deal? Or should he go solo and use their desperation to build his own foundation from scratch?

So many doors were opening at once, it was almost dizzying!