The empire was alive with movement. The air buzzed—not with the tension of war, but with awe, anticipation, and the quiet hum of power converging. Word had spread like wildfire: Rocky, the Summoner, the one who had defied balance and protected the empire, was alive. More than alive—he had triumphed.
From every corner of the world, from kingdoms, empires, and hidden realms, the Chosen Ones arrived. Each carried their own aura of strength, their own purpose, their own burdens. They came not as conquerors, but as witnesses.
Rocky stood at the grand hall of the imperial palace, still bearing the bandage over his shoulder, still a little weary from battle. Sylvia Sanchez III was at his side, her presence calm and radiant. Knights lined the hall, weapons lowered in respect.
The first to step forward was Kaelen of the Northern Peaks, Chosen One of frost and storm, his icy aura faintly chilling the hall. "I have traveled a thousand leagues to see the one who protected everything," he said, bowing deeply.
Next came Mira the Flamebound, her blazing hair and smoldering eyes making even the grand hall seem smaller. "Legends spoke of you," she said softly, her voice carrying both admiration and wonder. "But to see you in the flesh…" She shook her head, a smile forming despite herself.
One by one, they arrived:
Rohar of the Shifting Sands, wielder of desert storms and illusions.
Elira of the Moonlit Veil, who commanded spirits of the night.
Takumi of the Iron Forests, whose connection with nature was absolute.
Veska of the Starborn Citadel, bending light and gravity with a mere thought.
Each Chosen One bowed, knelt, or otherwise showed their respect. Some offered words, others gifts—crystals of unimaginable power, relics of ancient civilizations, even weapons thought lost to time. But none of it mattered more than their presence.
Rocky's gaze swept over them, his usual calm replaced with quiet humility. He had never imagined such attention—never sought it. But looking at the diverse champions before him, he felt the weight of responsibility he had earned. He was not just the protector of the empire. He had become the protector of everything.
Sylvia stepped forward, her hand brushing against his arm. "They're here for you," she whispered. "Not because they fear you… because they believe in you."
Rocky exhaled slowly. "Then we can prepare. Together."
The Chosen Ones moved closer, forming a circle around him. Each radiated strength, yet each looked to Rocky not with challenge, but with trust. The air was thick with potential—the promise of alliances, the promise of unity.
And somewhere, in the farthest corners of the empire, the whispers began:
"The protector of everything has returned."
The empire had a champion.
The world had a hero.
And Rocky… Rocky would not falter.
Because now, with the Chosen Ones at his side, he wasn't just a summoner.
He was the anchor of fate itself.
The hall shook slightly as the Guardians and remaining summons materialized for the greeting—a quiet display of loyalty, power, and respect. Quadrillions of slimes formed a shimmering floor of living light. The Guardian Wolf prowled the perimeter, every hair bristling in anticipation. Elementals hummed quietly, circling the chamber with silent discipline. Even Risha and Happy hovered closer, their auras tamed yet potent.
Rocky's eyes met Sylvia's. She smiled softly, giving him the smallest nod, almost like a reminder: he wasn't alone.
And for the first time since Carbrarra, since the wars, since the impossible battles…
Rocky felt at peace.
The protector of everything had been acknowledged—not by scrolls, crowns, or crowns of gold—but by the very heroes of the world.
And the next chapter of the universe was ready to begin.
The empire's grand hall, once echoing with awe, now thrummed with anticipation of a different kind. The Chosen Ones, each a master of their own unique powers, had come not only to honor Rocky—but to challenge him.
Rocky stood at the center, his shoulder still bandaged, yet his stance firm. His summons hovered, ready, yet restrained—this was not a battle to destroy, but a battle to test.
Kaelen of the Northern Peaks stepped forward first, frost glinting along his armor. "Protector of everything," he said, voice echoing like a mountain wind. "We have seen what you can do. But we must know… can you truly hold the weight of the world against forces equal to your own?"
Mira the Flamebound's hair flared with heat, sparks dancing across her hands. "We do not doubt your strength," she said, voice warm but serious. "We simply must see it. To trust completely, to coordinate, we need to know how far you can go."
Rocky tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable. "You don't need to test me to know my resolve," he said softly. "But if this is what it takes to strengthen the bonds we share, then I will not refuse."
Elira of the Moonlit Veil circled him gracefully, her eyes glimmering. "Then let it begin."
The first clash was instantaneous.
Kaelen unleashed a storm of ice and wind, slicing across the grand hall with frozen shards the size of trees. Rocky barely moved, but instinctively summoned a wave of gravitational slimes. Quadrillions of them surged forward, absorbing the attack in a living wall, compressing the energy harmlessly into the ground.
Mira leapt into the air, flames streaking from her hands like molten comets, but Rocky responded with a coordinated strike: Risha and Happy moved as one, creating counterforces that redirected the fire into harmless plumes of smoke. The Guardian Wolf bounded between them, summoning gravitation ripples that disrupted their movements just enough to show Rocky's control.
Every Chosen One took their turn—blades, magic, spirits, elemental storms.
And every time, Rocky adapted.
He didn't just block or absorb. He responded, redirected, and occasionally amplified. Every summon mirrored his movements, anticipating his intent as if reading his thoughts.
Sylvia watched from the side, gripping her sword but smiling faintly. "He's learning from each attack… faster than any of us could imagine," she whispered.
By the third wave, the grand hall was in chaos—broken stone floated in shards, gravity twisted, fire and frost collided midair—but Rocky's aura remained calm, focused.
Veska of the Starborn Citadel approached him directly, bending light into dense beams aimed at his chest. Rocky raised his hand—not to block, but to command.
"All units, counter and contain."
In an instant, gravitational slimes, elementals, ghosts, and even Risha and Happy moved as one, creating a network of energy that refracted, reflected, and absorbed Veska's beams. Light twisted into invisible corridors, striking multiple targets while leaving Rocky unharmed.
The Chosen Ones froze for a split second, astonished.
"You… coordinate with your summons as if they are part of your body," Rohar murmured.
Rocky exhaled slowly. "They are part of me."
One by one, the Chosen Ones realized the depth of his strength—not in raw power, but in control, strategy, and unity with everything he had summoned.
Finally, Mira and Kaelen charged together, combining firestorms and razor winds, aiming to overwhelm Rocky's defenses.
He smiled faintly.
"Everyone—full synchronization. Now."
Risha, Happy, the Guardian Wolf, Quadrillions of slimes, the Gravitational Wrath Dragon, Yūrei samurai, millions of elementals, goblins, and even the lingering presence of Lucifer and Nikkei—all surged forward, moving as one mind.
The collision was instant and total. The combined force of Rocky and his summons clashed with the combined strength of the Chosen Ones. Stone cracked. Air ignited. Light and shadow twisted. The grand hall seemed to vanish as energy spiraled outward in a perfect storm.
And then… silence.
The Chosen Ones staggered, one by one, shocked and awed. Not a single one had managed to land a decisive blow.
Kaelen fell to one knee, breathing heavily. "So… this is your strength," he said, voice quiet but tinged with respect.
Mira wiped ash from her arm. "It's… more than I imagined."
Elira's eyes softened. "You don't just fight," she said. "You orchestrate."
Rocky lowered his hand, summoning his aura back to a steady glow. He looked at each of them. "This wasn't about winning," he said calmly. "It was about understanding. So we can stand together when the real threat comes."
Sylvia stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm. "And I think you've passed every test."
The Chosen Ones exchanged glances, smiles spreading across faces previously hardened by battle. They had come to challenge the protector of everything—and instead, they had found a leader worthy of their trust.
The war might have ended, but the world had just taken its first step toward the next stage—united, prepared, and under the guidance of Rocky, the Summoner.