Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 361: Damascus The Regent

The rift in space tore open further, exposing a pair of small, luminous white eyes peering from an otherworldly dimension. "Approach... child of the ancient tree."

In that instant, the spatial tear completely fractured, unveiling a colossal doorframe crowned with two imposing horns. Beyond this gateway, Godfrey beheld a lycan, standing at nine feet tall, within a mist-shrouded domain. Weapons were impaled in the ground all around, and countless fallen bodies carpeted the desolate landscape.

This lycan stood poised on the other side of the portal, its pitch-black fur bearing traces of blood. The formidable beast, fresh from a brutal engagement, was now poised to plunge into another. Though clearly fatigued, it exuded an intimidating aura that caused Godfrey's brow to furrow.

It possessed long, slender limbs, a taut abdomen that seemed almost unnaturally hollowed, yet its chest was broad and powerful. Wide shoulders supported arms that were long and lean, culminating in terrifyingly elongated fingers tipped with razor-sharp claws.

The tips of this monstrous creature's claws dripped with gore. Its head, heavily cloaked in fur, featured eyes that were fixed in a gaze both cunning and horrific. If positioned in darkness with its eyes shut, it would be utterly undetectable.

Those eyes, capable of piercing the very soul, were locked directly onto Godfrey.

A premonition of dread washed over Godfrey, more intense than any he had previously experienced. It felt as though the entity before him could render Truthseeker an insignificant child by comparison. This was potentially his most formidable adversary yet.

This secret boss, having just concluded a gruelling battle and depleted a significant portion of its mana and stamina, had nevertheless elected to breach another dungeon after decimating all intruders who had dared to disturb its domain.

Despite the considerable mana expenditure it must have incurred, Godfrey felt a palpable pressure—not directly from its raw power, but from the sheer skill this creature possessed.

Mor had been relatively manageable, but what inherent abilities did this entity wield? It was possible its strengths lay in domains beyond the purely physical.

"I perceive a man already walking towards his demise. Your fate is sealed and grim, yet I shall courteously bestow upon you a swift end, thereby easing your burden," Damascus proclaimed.

"My destiny is my own to forge," Godfrey retorted, conjuring a longsword into his grip as he assumed a ready stance. His gaze remained fixed on Damascus, scrutinizing the boss with unwavering intensity. The instant it made any overt move, his initial action would be to utilize teleportation.

"And I was not soliciting your opinion." Damascus, the regent of the wolf demons, responsible for all demigods beneath its leader across every mature world, stepped through the doorway, extending its hands expansedly. "You are powerless, King Godfrey, sovereign of a vanquished lineage. Your era of glory belongs to the past; the future, however, holds no place for a ruler whose dominion is naught but a barely habitable wasteland."

Upon meeting Godfrey's direct gaze, Damascus let out a derisive chuckle.

Godfrey's expression contorted. That look... the boss had ensnared him, but how? Was there anything concealed around him? No, there was absolutely nothing apparent.

It couldn't possibly be...

It was its eyes!

At that precise moment, Godfrey's eyes turned stark white. He became immobile, as if his soul had been abruptly severed from its corporeal vessel. Godfrey's eyes fluttered open, only to find himself standing outside his parents' residence. He stood upon the street, his gaze fixed upon the front door.

'What just transpired? Where am I?'

Black smoke began to spiral upwards, coalescing into the spectral form of Damascus, which emitted another chuckle. "You stand within your future. This is your narrative, Godfrey Daniels."

"I created you for the express purpose of answering my questions. That is the sole reason for your uniqueness, the sole reason I designated you as a chosen one."

'That voice!' Godfrey, utterly aghast at the recognition, swiveled his head. He then witnessed himself alongside his mother, whose eyes were now a vacant white, her irises completely vanished. The version of himself he observed appeared utterly defeated, as if his entire world had imploded, leaving him only to witness the devastation in stunned disbelief.

His mother advanced a step, then gently caressed the cheek of the future Godfrey, who stood frozen. "If you succeed, I shall be content; should you falter, you will either become another failure destined for death, or Cain will unearth your latent potential as you serve him as his summoned entity. I have poured an immense amount of investment into this world to witness yet another failure. I refuse to let you squander Pathan's potential as well."

Godfrey blinked. The anguish radiating from his future self was almost unbearable, yet he found himself incapable of coherent thought. A single word, soft and low, filled with profound disbelief, escaped his lips. "What?" Godfrey managed to utter. There was no animosity in her voice as she uttered those harsh words, nor was there any trace of warmth.

Could this be an illusion?

As her hand withdrew from her future son's cheek, her irises returned to normal, and Valentina blinked. "It appears it might rain shortly. What are we still doing out here? Let's head inside; we're cooking together." She beamed, hastening towards the door.

She walked past Godfrey, then paused and turned, only to see her son standing in the exact same spot, his expression shattered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he gazed upon her. His mouth was slightly agape, yet no sound emerged.

Godfrey lowered his head, his gaze fixed upon his future self.

"Sweetheart, what's amiss—!"

Valentina could not finish her sentence as he abruptly turned, walking away. She hurried after him, but Godfrey fled from her approach like a child terrified of his parents. His powers, his entire being, seemed to shatter into pieces like fragile glass. He outran her, finding refuge in a desolate alley.

Godfrey followed the vision of his future self, witnessing him curled up in the darkness, utterly broken and lost.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to suppress the overwhelming pain.

"Allow me to spare you this agony," Damascus's voice echoed. "This isn't a fairytale; it's no mere illusion. This is your inevitable future, your shattered destiny."

The scene shifted abruptly. Godfrey had no sense of time passing, but it couldn't have been long before he saw himself on the streets of Manhattan, dissolving into nothingness, along with the Immortal Armour.

He watched as his future self turned to face a dragon wailing as it flew towards him. Their eyes met, the dragon's rider looking directly at him.

Isolde.

It felt as though he simply ceased to exist in that very moment, right before her eyes.

"You never survive the Ruination. The abominations that emerge from those gates are beyond anything you have ever confronted. Despite all your accomplishments, you ultimately fail. Why don't you simply embrace slumber, O King? You have endured far too much. You are merely nineteen, yet the world shows you no mercy. Let the final embrace of death welcome you. Find your solace within her arms," Damascus whispered insidiously.

"Let it all conclude. Perish now, and they will all suffer defeat. Die, and attain eternal peace. True rest is not found in boundless existence, but in the finality of death, in the journey beyond this life."

The vision changed once more. Countless scenes flashed before him: red gates erupting across the Earth, terrifying creatures of immense power appearing, and finally, he glimpsed the realm of the Afterlife.

So, he had died then.

The landscape was a desolate, black expanse, divided by heaps of fallen corpses.

Yet, amidst this oppressive darkness, one figure stood out with brilliant clarity: a white knight clad in armor, sporting a winged helmet, mounted on a steed, clutching a lance.

He appeared as an angelic being in that bleak world, his radiant light piercing the gloom.

'A truly noble knight...'

"Indeed... he will stand as the guardian of your soul. End it all, bring your story to its close, and let this torment finally cease."