Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 341: Master Of Illusions (2)

Adonis positioned himself in front of the mana tree, gripping a fruit tightly. He clutched it briefly before a glowing diagram ignited at his side.

A massive butterfly emerged, and he offered the fruit to it. The butterfly gobbled it up rapidly as Adonis fixed his stare on the mana tree.

Among countless questions burning in his mind for the tree, a single one haunted his core.

Why?

He whirled around to find his butterfly transformed into human shape. It mirrored him perfectly, only far more striking, boasting white hair, irises, eyebrows, eyelashes, and captivating pale skin.

They locked eyes with each other.

Then the summon extended its hand. "I still hold the memories of your training sessions with me," it declared in a steady voice, as though it had awaited this forever.

His summon had forever been an extension of himself—a fragment of his soul forged into a loyal servant—but circumstances had shifted now...

"What happens if I grasp your hand?" Adonis questioned, his gaze drifting down to Snow, the outstretched palm of his summon.

"We unite as one, and I seize control," Snow responded.

Adonis raised his hand, extended it gradually, and laid it atop Snow’s. Brilliant light engulfed them both, blending their forms together.

A butterfly now occupied his right eye socket, while enormous wings erupted from his back.

Those wings shimmered nearly translucent, razor-sharp at the edges, etched with an intricate web-like design.

Snow breathed out deeply as dark sparkles exploded from his body, reshaping his outfit into a crisp white suit paired with a white shirt and shoes.

His left eye returned to normal, both eyes now radiating a silvery sheen. With one final look at the mana tree, Snow spun toward the white gate and departed.

Stepping out, he spotted Godfrey seated by the lake. Snow, the being now dominant, viewed the world differently. It pierced past the surface, unveiling an enigmatic aura enveloping Godfrey.

What appeared was a dim golden entity, shadowed at the borders of its golden silhouette, golden eyes blazing from within its helmet.

Being a monster itself, it sensed the crushing presence of a king who felled beasts.

"What are you?" Snow demanded, obviously shaken.

"You’re not Adonis, right?" Godfrey queried, staring at Snow. The vision Snow held was completely altered.

Godfrey climbed to his feet and pivoted away. "You may leave, but if—!" He barely started when Snow shifted into a giant butterfly and melted into the night sky.

Godfrey trusted that Adonis would revive once prepared. A vastly intensified aura had pulsed from Snow exiting the white gate, even before fully integrating the mana fruit. Why such evident caution in its stare?

It mirrored the fearful look beasts cast upon encountering a lion.

As Godfrey sank into reflection, Snow journeyed to Dragon City, cloaking himself as a man in hat and coat.

He surveyed the area, perceiving summons' auras draping over people like spectral veils. Some figures loomed black with red eyes—human, yet distinctly inhuman.

His illusion prowess had evolved so profoundly that reality itself blurred into mere phantasm for him. Still, his breaths came unevenly.

"What did I just witness?" Snow wondered aloud to himself, then glanced at a restaurant.

The King’s Restaurant.

"King..." Snow narrowed his eyes.

***

Godfrey returned to the mansion and entered the shower. Water poured over his head, trickling across his face, shoulders, and chest, as his eyes darted restlessly.

He squeezed them shut, killed the shower, stepped out of the bathroom, and slipped into fresh attire. Leaving the room, a faint sound snagged his notice.

Absorbed in thoughts, his feet carried him toward the noise. Weak once, pain had gripped him; now empowered and mighty to a degree, why lingered the torment?

The divide between strong and weak? What set them apart? Even an Origin Tier like Snow could break down weeping like the powerless.

Did the mighty still shed tears?

Drifting along a path countless others had followed, Godfrey froze midway upon reaching the door from whence the sound emanated.

It was a piano.

Who played it?

The door hung slightly open, so he eased it wider and beheld a white room curving at the far end. Glass panes lined that curve, cradling a platform bearing a grand acoustic piano.

A chandelier dangled right above. Isolde perched on the stool, bathed in the chandelier's gentle glow amid the shadowy chamber, her lithe fingers gliding over the keys to birth a calming melody that stirred his soul deeply.

An irresistible pull tugged at him.

"Frey..." Isolde halted at the sight of him, yet Godfrey motioned her onward. He drew near, dropped to the floor, and leaned gently against her back, eyes sealed shut.

"Don’t stop. I enjoy it," his voice, brimming with warmth—or perhaps a desperate hunger for it—flowed softly into her ears.

Godfrey sealed his eyes shut while Isolde continued playing. The world loomed both far-off and near at once. This sensation... utterly surreal.

In the end, were they all so feeble? The immortal bears the scars of trauma from every death he has endured, spiraling into madness. Yet even in that state, loss refuses to spare him.

Is this the true gamble? To love within a world where it could be ripped away at any moment? Does this define the heart of an apocalypse?

Forming bonds with friends was a dangerous choice, inviting inevitable suffering, but hadn't he barricaded his heart long enough? Any more closure, and he would cease to be himself.

Godfrey understood that ultimate strength awaited him eventually, yet what toll would it exact? Was he capable of shielding both himself and his companions until he attained such power?

Could he elevate the order back to its majestic heights, could he uphold the devotion of those knights prepared to clash in his name, aspiring to rebirth from the ruins?

’It appears nearly every created being faces limitations. Perhaps this outlook will evolve once I grow stronger... or perhaps it won’t.’

The instant his eyes snapped open, Isolde came to a halt.

"I hope I find Jon before you do. Anyone that makes you feel this way doesn’t deserve to breathe," Isolde muttered under her breath.