Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 344: Legends Of The Golden Order Knights (3)

The cops showed no surprise when the gate sealed shut. Recent headlines revealed that Earth was on the verge of becoming a fully mature world, implying they'd all been trapped in a prolonged tutorial phase up until now.

These days, a gate would close after a dungeon break once the boss fell outside it. Previously, blue gates stayed open following breaks to allow resource farming and endless battles against a single monster for rapid growth, but with Earth ascending to mature status soon, that advantage had vanished.

Regrettably, this shift carried downsides. Any dungeon break spelled massive danger, leading to either lives lost or property destroyed—a heavy toll regardless. Guilds, independent hunters, major corporations, and even officials might resist closing gates, as they generated substantial profits.

Penalties could arise for sealing blue gates, particularly after the Pagoda Guild shelled out a fortune to secure this dungeon, only for it to disappear.

The police leader shrugged despite mulling over these points. “We’re alive. That’s all that counts. Let them enforce those rules fully when I lay eyes on the sun once more. It’s odd we’ve survived under the sun this whole time—what the—ugh!”

Liam jabbed his ribs. “The Knight’s leaving,” he murmured.

The leader glanced at him. “So what? You planning to cuff him?”

Another officer chimed in. “Wasn’t that one of his knights?”

“Who?” Liam arched a brow.

Both cops eyed Liam with lifted eyebrows.

***

In a grassy meadow, no more than two dozen children gathered, none older than ten. They hung on the words of the elderly caretaker from their secluded orphanage.

Government aid had dwindled sharply, forcing them to scrape by on scraps, yet one thing the kids always cherished was their caretaker’s monthly tale.

Darkness had gripped the world for ages, but despite scant protection, this old man kept the children feeling secure.

Observing them perched on the grass, absorbed in his faint, fatigued voice, warmed his heart with a smile.

“And so...” As he began again, a thunderous boom shattered the air. Every head jerked toward the wall. Though towering high, the wall fell short of the massive intruder beyond it.

His gleaming golden helmet and enormous pauldrons peeked over. The earth-shaking footsteps of Mountain closing in sent the children’s hearts pounding wildly.

Up close, they’d never beheld anything so gigantic. Sheltered in their vast compound perfect for play, their sheltered existence couldn’t comprehend a creature dwarfing the wall.

“I... Is that a dungeon... M-Mon-Monster?!” A wide-eyed nine-year-old lad quivered, his shaky fingers poking the girl in front of him.

The instant his finger grazed her, she launched skyward with a shriek. The rest scattered in terror. Tiny tots dashed desperately, little legs pumping furiously amid heavy gasps.

Chaos reigned supreme.

Mountain halted, peered into the orphanage, then pivoted, sank to the ground, and propped against the wall. He set down his shield and hammer-axe.

He cocked his head skyward at the pitch-black heavens.

Memories flooded back of his life before knighthood.

Back then, he embodied the madman—a savage brute shackled amid icy peaks in the frozen wastes. Endless chill and swirling snow frosted his flesh pale. Those binding chains chilled deeper than death’s grasp.

During that era, he eked out survival on scraps flung by the few kind souls offering their refuse.

As their loaves sated his hunger, he hammered the mountainsides.

Why?

Mountain initially couldn’t recall when it began.

Yet a root cause existed.

His feral rage.

Rather than pummeling folks in his deranged fury, he battered his fists against unyielding rock.

Years blurred into decades.

His roars and the mountains’ echoing retorts boomed across the land, audible in nearby settlements. Folks claimed his madness defied death, clad only in tattered cloth and chained for ages.

“The man-beast rages on,” they murmured.

He grasped his torment.

Still, no affliction rivaled the horror of a shattered mind. It hissed temptations, mocked relentlessly, crammed his skull with vile visions—so abhorrent he’d sob through days, bashing his brow begging for oblivion.

At times he fasted rigidly, only to yield and devour snow-buried loaves after enduring.

Initially, mountain strikes brought agony, splintering bones, but healed or not, he persisted endlessly until it defined him.

Mountain Man, Madman, Man-Beast—such names they bestowed.

That fateful day finally arrived—the moment his ultimate punch blasted a full passageway straight through the mountain!

Sunlight's beams graced his thickly bearded face for the very first time.

From a savage Man Beast, he rose to fame as the mightiest Pathan, and ultimately transformed into a revered knight.

Mountain gazed up at the pitch-black sky, envisioning the brilliant golden sun of his home world.

'I stood as the pioneer hybrid, the Great All-rounder, General of the Snowmen, Defender of the young.'

How did the once-despised outcast become their very lifeline, the idol they exalted with statues built in his name?

How could a raving lunatic ascend to noble knighthood, embodying unyielding loyalty and honor?

He emerged as the White Bear of the North, whose mere presence soothed the souls of Pathan men and women, while his Snow Bearmen force—the deadliest hammeraxe-wielding heavy infantry, known too as the Golden Berserkers—struck fear into monsters, ripping free their hearts only to pulverize them.

But...

'Since... When did knighthood revolve around melancholy? What truly sparks these emotions stirring within me now?' Mountain wondered deep inside, when abruptly, a frail elderly voice echoed forth.

"Lost?"