Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights

Chapter 102: A Cerberus

Both Mountain and Ballista walked out from their own portals and looked at Godfrey, who was gazing down at them from the rooftop.

”You were honoured with the title of Captain and Chief because of your feats in killing beasts. Show it to me.”

Godfrey’s declaration sounded like a challenge to their pride. All the knights were silent for a moment before Tempest brandished his sword, cutting through some rain droplets.

”As you wish, my Duke.” His armour became dark crimson, and tendril-wings sprouted from his back. It wasn’t golden and crackling with ferocious intensity but white and gentle.

The darkness fled from the brightness of the long tendrils which floated side by side and were so long they almost reached the other building opposite the one Godfrey stood on.

Godfrey had discovered there were different forms of Tempest’s wings after spending a night in his soul space and deciphering the runes and writings on the walls of his chambers.

Apparently, to become a Chief, a knight had to live up to two hundred years, and the survival rate of the Golden Order Knights was abysmal as they fought against all kinds of existences. This was why Captains were powerful and had a badge of a hundred years to their name.

Chiefs, on the other hand, were on another level. Not only could they speak fluently, despite speaking rarely, but the beast alchemically fused into them was more disastrous.

An example was the Lightning Phoenix, which was in its passive state when its lightning tendril-wings were white, in a battle state when they were golden, and in killer mode when its lightning wings were black with a mix of silver.

The most surprising thing was the white lightning, which couldn’t harm a thing. As surprising and unbelievable as it was, it only broadened Godfrey’s view of the capabilities of mana.

With white lightning though, it flew better and much faster. Godfrey saw a bit of that when Tempest soared above him and tore into the clouds.

He could see streaks of white lightning behind the black clouds going further and further away.

Ballista summoned ten Bow Knights in his Black-Out State. They all turned invisible and controlled their weight to the extent that not a sound was made from the seven-foot-tall, heavily armoured archers weighing well over five hundred pounds.

Godfrey had not seen them move so nimbly before, probably because he had always set them before a seen target. This time, they were on the hunt.

Mountain slammed his spear into the pavement, and ten Heavy Infantry Knights appeared from misty golden portals, with spears, longswords strapped to their waists, and heavy oval shields.

They were almost two times the size of the Bow Knights, golden armour gleaming with menace as their spear tips faced the clouds, and they stood in an elite row of two.

Not one fell out of line.

They were neither as swift as Tempest nor as silent as Ballista and his squad. This infantry squad exuded menace from every part of them, their massive spiked pauldrons, great helms that had just two holes for eyes that couldn’t be seen, and their towering sizes.

With heavy metallic sounds, they marched into another street until they vanished into the fog.

Godfrey sat on the rooftop. His eyes went blank as he appeared in his soul space, right in Tempest’s chambers, walking straight to the next door.

On it was the image of a massive horse clad in thick golden mail and armour. Beside it was a towering pole-like halberd. It looked magnificent and blood-boiling, but when he touched it, a cold feeling crept up his arm.

There was something odd about the next knight. His door was cold like a block of ice, yet it looked radiant like the noon sun.

”Well, I’ve never seen anyone as smart as you, Godfrey. Letting all your summons go hunt while you sit there dreaming about your future.”

”Keke, he’s probably dreaming about Isolde.”

Those voices, Godfrey recognized them. His blank eyes regained life as he turned to his left. At the end of the street stood the triplets. Not alone this time.

By each of them were hounds with the slender, streamlined physique of a cheetah, standing at six feet at the shoulder. Flames and black smoke billowed out of their shrivelled mouths, glowing ribcages, and claws.

”You better call your summons back, or we’re going to leave permanent scars on your face,” Leofric snickered.

With his hands buried in his pockets, Ulric glared at Godfrey. ”I have not forgotten your punch. You must have felt cool, huh? Well, time for a real battle. Retrieve your summons, or they might have to pick up your limbs.”

Godfrey leaped from the rooftop, landing lightly on the street. A longsword with a golden hilt manifested in his hand, and he rested his hands on the pommel while the blade was planted on the ground.

”I was actually afraid to kill you back then. Imagine what would have happened if I had a longsword,” he said softly.

”Your mouth has grown sharp. I guess strength truly intoxicates.” Wulfric’s eyes gleamed, and his Hellhound burst forth, racing toward Godfrey like a cheetah on steroids.

After training for almost a month on his swordsmanship, Godfrey could proudly say his foundations were solid.

Wulfric’s Hellhound breathed a large amount of flames at him. Godfrey leaped back, somersaulting and sliding upon landing, water splashing from his shoes to his pants.

Seeing the other two hounds beside Wulfric’s, Godfrey’s sclera became black, and golden tendril-wings sprouted from his back.

They spun like blades, cutting and electrocuting the Hellhounds, forcing them to retreat. In that moment, Godfrey saw an opportunity and dashed at them.

The Hellhound he targeted opened its mouth, biting down, but Godfrey moved out of the way at the last moment and stabbed the longsword into its foot.

He shoulder-bashed its head, hurling the beast into a building. Without looking, he spun, cutting off the right ear of Wulfric’s Hellhound.

Flying out of its flame breath, he cut off one of its hind legs, wrapped all tendrils around it, and tossed the badly electrocuted beast into another building.

The last Hellhound hesitated as it took a step backward. Chains burst out of its ribcage, latched onto the other two, and dragged them back to it.

The moment the three hounds collided, flames flared, and they merged, growing into a nine-foot-tall, three-headed beast.

A Cerberus!

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A/N: Wow! We’re still going strong this month! Already encroaching 400 golden tickets!!

Almost 500 power stones!!!