Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 375 Mana Stress

The other bids were fierce; the second went for 74 million, and the third fetched 90.3 million. In the blink of an eye, 234.58 million had vanished!

Godfrey remained seated, contemplating the remaining balance in his account. It was astonishing! Having never truly worked for his earnings, he hadn't fully grasped the ephemeral nature of wealth.

All the struggle, all the lives lost within that perilous purple gate dungeon, all gone in a flash. Perhaps, he mused, he was viewing it from the wrong perspective; the money hadn't simply disappeared, but rather, it had been exchanged for something of… equivalent worth.

Yes, equivalent worth.

"Haa…" He let out a long breath, a lament for the departure of 234.58 million. Tucking a hoodie over himself and donning a face mask, Godfrey proceeded to record the living room and dispatched the video.

Not long after, the package materialized on the table, emitting a soft, orange glow.

Summons undeniably streamlined life in countless ways. Deliveries were remarkably swift; this very convenience was why individuals possessing summons with teleportation abilities were invariably sought after by organizations, authorities, or powerful guilds.

Godfrey unsealed his package, revealing three apples nestled within a clear plastic container. He lifted the lid, and the air immediately became thick with mana.

He narrowed his eyes, retrieved one apple, and took a bite. 'The taste is that of a common apple, yet the mana content is simply astounding.'

Godfrey's eyes lit up as his body eagerly absorbed the immense surge of mana. It was a ceaseless, powerful influx.

With a low chuckle, he selected a second apple, paused briefly, then consumed the third. By the time he finished the final apple, his hands were moving in a blur.

A frown creased his brow, and he looked around. Everything appeared to have duplicates. 'What is happening…?' He collapsed onto the sofa, utterly unconscious.

Tucked away at the bottom of the bag, from which he had retrieved the plastic box, lay a small, white slip of paper.

'Caution: Slice and consume over a three-day period to prevent mana stress.'

***

A line of maids and servants stood in formation outside the imposing Pendragon Mansion. The sky had deepened into night, illuminated by a canopy of stars.

All were assembled in anticipation. Just then, a sleek black automobile emerged into view, approached, and came to a halt.

Rick moved with practiced haste, opened the car door, and Isolde emerged, clad in a sharp black suit and commanding high-heeled boots.

The assembled maids and servants bowed in unison. One servant exchanged a glance with another, who visibly swallowed.

With a subtle smile gracing her features, Isolde proceeded past them. "Where is my husband? He isn't answering my calls?"

"How can you be so certain he survived the purple gate dungeon?" Rick inquired.

"Because if he were to perish, I would too. Allowing Godfrey to enter that dungeon was not merely a risk to his life; it was a gamble with my own. I understood that if the information was flawed, I would meet my end alongside him."

Isolde offered her explanation. She had known the moment the battle concluded, as she had been briefly drawn into a soul space. Upon sensing a slight return of mana, Isolde had immediately teleported back to Japan.

Her relationship with the Whites, it seemed, had irrevocably soured, but there was little she could do about it now.

One servant cast a concerned look at another, who gulped nervously.

"Why the apprehension? She's merely nineteen. You're behaving as if she's some malevolent entity."

The other servant glanced back. "You haven't heard the news? She traveled to Fukushima to confer with Nathan Pendragon, one of the Whites who oversees the gates in Japan."

"And so?"

"I heard she was poisoned, yet the attempt failed."

"They poisoned the Family Head?! I suspected the Whites were displeased with this turn of events; it was so sudden, but attempting to poison her is utterly audacious…" the first servant trailed off.

"But she emerged unscathed, so what transpired?"

"Well, someone had to face the consequences, so she incinerated the entire Pendragon Mansion in Fukushima. Every last bit of it, with Nathan Pendragon still inside."

"W-What?"

"It is the absolute truth. She is utterly merciless."

While the servants exchanged hushed tones, Isolde set her bag down in the sitting room and stretched her arms languidly.

"What exactly occurred in Fukushima? You obliterated the dragon's influence in that region. We possess limited territory in the east; why would you destroy such a valuable asset?" Rick inquired gently.

"Because it yielded no benefit to our household. All gains from that location primarily served Michael and the other Whites. They offered me no opportunity to prove my capabilities. I was drugged, and I overheard their conspiratorial whispers. They intended to employ suppressors on me and subject me to torture until I became their pliable puppet. I am uncertain if Michael was directly involved in this specific scheme, which is why I have yet to exact retribution upon him."

Isolde elaborated, her tone remarkably calm.

"Do not concern yourself, I permitted one to escape and ensured he would disseminate the account. The Family Head was subjected to poisoning, and she exacted swift retaliation. They may debate my veracity, but they cannot dispute a witness," she added.

Rick retrieved her bag. "That was a shrewd maneuver."

Isolde offered a gentle smile. "Now, I have a far more critical task at hand." With a swift teleportation, she navigated through the bedroom and other chambers, eventually materializing in the third living room. There, she found Godfrey reclining on the sofa.

Subtly removing her heels, she tiptoed towards him and settled down beside his head.

'Incredible! The sheer volume of mana pulsing within him is astonishing. Wasn't he depleted of mana merely days ago? How does he possess such abundance?'

Her gaze landed on the package. She retrieved it, unfolded the solitary piece of paper contained within, and began to read.

Isolde's brow furrowed slightly. "It couldn't possibly be..."

Grabbing her tablet, she scrolled through its contents, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Godfrey! Are you out of your mind?!"

Isolde leaped to her feet. He had entered a state of mana stress—a condition where a Summoner experiences an overwhelming influx of mana, causing their body to shut down as it struggles to adapt.

While the body is capable of containing limitless mana, expanding as it receives more, a colossal amount introduced all at once can dangerously overextend it.

This could prove fatal. Fortunately, instances of mana stress are exceedingly rare, as accumulating such vast quantities of mana is a privilege few attain.

Yet, to her dismay, Godfrey had succumbed to it!

How could someone transition from having no mana to having their very life endangered by an excess of it?

'I must contact Rick. We need to get him to a hospital. This is—!' Isolde made to dash for the door, but a hand grasped her wrist, yanking her back.

She landed squarely on Godfrey's chest. Her eyes snapped open as she met his now gleaming gaze.

"Who is a fool?" His voice resonated.

'Is this a jest? Is that all the mana stress did to him?!'

Godfrey made sure she was positioned atop him, then encircled her waist with his arms, their faces mere inches apart.

Their breaths mingled, caressing their lips.

"So... who's the fool?" he inquired once more.