Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 353: Goliath Incarnation

Sometime later, the elderly man emerged and spotted Godfrey perched atop the roof. "Found a way to earn some cash yet?"

Godfrey cast a quick look at the old fellow before turning his back, dismissing him entirely. No chance he'd let those words from the geezer drag him down further. He had his personal vow to uphold at the moment. Some hospitality that was.

He gazed down at the core clutched in his right palm. It had materialized soon after Miquella's demise, though slower than anticipated. Apparently, even total annihilation of an enemy failed to halt core creation.

His eyes tightened.

The core's glow danced within his golden pupils. This one came from a 33.0 Titled god; it'd grant a massive power-up to his knights, yet to unlock the next noble knight's gate, Godfrey needed cores for every single Alchemist under his command.

It was a hefty price, but an essential step to reconstruct the order anew. With cores for all of them, he'd meet every condition to open further doors; in doing so, he'd carved out room for the defiant Knights through his sheer determination.

Symbiosis didn't come from the Alchemists for him, yet they remained utterly crucial. Beyond their vast knowledge, these alchemists could enhance his knights and, if needed, produce additional ones.

They formed the core essence of the order, transcending even the oath as its originators—and in essence, shapers of his very being. Equal in value to the king himself. He served as the head, while they pulsed as the heart.

Without them, he couldn't operate, nor could the order exist.

As King, he acted as the unbreakable link preserving unity, the conviction binding the forged order as one.

'I can't...'

Wouldn't handing this core to Ballista, who'd gone without for so long, prove wiser?

Hunting down ten cores just to claim Abaddon felt like too much, demanding the slaying of ten Titled god Tier summons. And even then, success in persuading Abaddon or making it happen wasn't guaranteed.

Abaddon could boast Titled god status with Ancient god Tier promise and intriguing Black-Out State powers, but he fell short of perfection.

Assigning this core to Ballista could trigger his evolution, lifting him to commander level at minimum. Paired with Symbiosis, that surge would vastly empower Godfrey, likely thrusting him to the Titled god Tier summit.

Such advancement would arm him better against the looming Ruination or clashes with fellow Titled gods.

Armed with higher stats, he could resist odd powers like those from Invincibles. Such entities proved unbeatable in their rank, wielding devastating skills that obliterated opponents.

Back in high school, just two matched that description. The Headmaster was one, and a senior with a tiger horse capable of freezing movement outright was the other.

Without that elevated rank, utter defeat would have been his fate in that fight.

After evolving Ballista, his feeblest noble knight would rival Throne Tier might.

Godfrey shut his eyes, prompting his soul realm to unfold. Gradually, his eyes expanded as he surveyed the surroundings.

'Am I imagining it, or did the castle transform?' Godfrey scanned about. Quite some time had passed since he'd ventured into his soul space beyond the castle walls.

Evidently, ascending to kingship with true command wrought vast alterations. A colossal throne room now dominated the castle's heart, linked to nine towers—each symbolizing a noble knight.

Sunny rays bathed his soul space in light. To this day, the sun puzzled him; did it belong to the castle?

It must.

That sun rendered his soul space vivid and cozy, unlike the shadowy voids others experienced, akin to drifting through real cosmos.

Reaching the grand staircase's peak, he eyed the enormous door suited for colossal titans, which creaked open to unveil the throne room.

A fierce wind rushed forth.

'So... I'm the king at last.' Godfrey murmured while striding to his throne and claiming his seat.

The throne room sprawled enormously; his throne's backrest stretched excessively tall. He appeared diminutive amid this vast, awe-inspiring expanse.

This seat befitted a commanding sovereign, one whose aura would command absolute reverence.

The throne posed a trial for his sovereignty. A feeble presence upon it would turn the act into self-ridicule.

Godfrey's gaze sparkled as he crossed one leg over the next, slouched back leisurely, and rested his cheek on a fist.

Sitting regally posed no challenge; he embodied the king. What king feigns a pose? Any posture he took defined kingly grace.

Godfrey's eyes shone even fiercer. He sensed it—a shift within him upon claiming the throne.

Raw power stayed the same, yet his bearing transformed. "Ballista."

Godfrey's command resounded through the hall. A portal burst open at its center in answer to his summons, and Ballista stepped forth with graceful strides that caused his armor to clank softly.

He dropped to one knee, bowing his head low.

"You called, My King."

Ballista raised his gaze to meet Godfrey's. There he was—the king risen from obscurity to legend. A story once dismissed as myth had proven true; falling with the order amid its ruin had been the noblest fate.

’If only...’

"Here," Godfrey declared, hurling the core over with telekinesis. "It’s for you." He let it settle into Ballista’s palm.

A faint clink rang out as it struck the knight’s gauntlet.

In truth, he resisted using human fire due to his principles and dread of dire outcomes, yet Miquella was no longer human. Indeed, no Fanatics appeared human to him.

Ballista closed his fingers around the core, mana coursing from his arm across his entire form.

He stayed knelt on one knee. Once the mana fully permeated him, his golden armor erupted in dazzling radiance. His outline swelled, towering now at ten feet. Earlier, he had stood shorter than the women.

His helmet transformed. The razor-sharp blades crowning it reshaped. It felt as though the old helm was yanked away and replaced by a new one, complete with a white hoodie that veiled his face in shadow.

Ballista stood tall. His torso now rivaled the other knights, particularly his broad chest, massive shoulders, and powerful arms crafted for wielding his immense bow.

However, his legs stayed slimmer, yielding a less imposing frame than his comrades.

"Thank you, My King." He thumped his chest and knelt once again.

Godfrey’s stare shifted to the crystalline monument next to Ballista.

Name: Knight General Of the Golden Order.

Type: Hybrid

Tier: 20.6 (Origin Tier)

Potential: 25.0

Description: [Master of the Great Bow. Unmatched in Archery across all of Pathan. Late stages of alchemical alterations have been unlocked, granting this knight access to greater strength; a Time-Rune Falcon mount bound to this knight. Its power can only work on his weapons and itself. A Goliath Incarnation, a Pathan Goliath whose tier will always be 3.0 higher than him without restrictions of potential.]

’...’

Godfrey scanned the description over and over. Ballista had secured not just a flying mount—likely his steed from before Pathan’s downfall—but also a Goliath Incarnation?

What did that mean? Perhaps a colossal giant?

It would become his own Incarnation.

The notion baffled him somewhat; witnessing this Goliath was essential. Ballista had ascended merely to Origin Tier, yet his powers and boons stood unparalleled.

"Ballista. I want to see your Goliath Incarnation." At those words, Ballista went rigid before Godfrey.

Shock gripped the knight far deeper than it did Godfrey. His turmoil brimmed with raw feelings, marking the first instance he defied Godfrey’s command.

Godfrey sensed the raw nerve struck, dismissing Ballista to his quarters before descending to the meeting hall beneath the throne room.

There sat the Alchemists, huddled in quiet discussion of their schemes. By now, they likely communed through thoughts alone.

Who could fathom their schemes?

That mystery could linger; urgent queries demanded answers.

"You want to know about the Goliath?" the Chief Alchemist queried, preempting Godfrey’s words.

Godfrey no longer marveled at his Alchemists’ quirks. Their eerie secrecy aside, he zeroed in on his goal.

"You know what it is. Good. I want to know, what is a Goliath Incarnation?"

The alchemists glanced among themselves, then turned to Godfrey.

"Very well."