Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 382 At Each Other's Throats

Saul had introduced a novel skill called Customization. This innovation reduced the necessity for Orion's crafts to match or exceed the summon's rank to be effective.

Customization enabled a summoner to equip their summon with any desired armor or weaponry. Any modification made would become permanent until the summoner chose to alter it.

This was the very skill Orion possessed, yet his version was agonizingly painful. As his tier couldn't yet contend with the era of Progenitors and gods, Customization rapidly supplanted his ability. However, the sensation of melding armor onto a summon felt akin to branding metal onto one's soul, a torment too great for most to endure.

Despite these considerable drawbacks, Arnold and Alora had clearly utilized Customization on their summons.

Alora's summon, Lora, materialized on the mezzanine with a flicker. "We received an order. I fail to comprehend why you haven't attacked him yet," Alora's Insect Knight's greatsword emanated a gleam of silver light as its summoner voiced her confusion.

"Are you with us or against us?" she inquired.

"Does it truly matter?" Godfrey's voice resonated, his breath grazing Alora's ear, causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin. She hadn't perceived his sudden appearance behind her.

Arnold and Nathan reacted simultaneously as she initiated an exchange. Their intention was to corner him, but Godfrey lightly brushed against her attire and switched places with her.

She found herself on the mezzanine, yet he remained behind her. Her eyes widened to their fullest extent.

Arnold unleashed a Blood Swordsman, which materialized mid-air directly behind Godfrey. However, something streaked past Godfrey, seized the Blood Swordsman's head, and brutally slammed it into the ground.

The concrete flooring fractured under the impact, and Percival plunged to the ground floor, bloodwaying the debris and forming a crimson pool.

Alora had already merged with her summon. Nathan's Zombie Panda charged towards Percival, while Alora, now one with her summon, positioned herself above Godfrey, aiming to plunge her sword through him.

He had been strangely passive, and the blue-haired individual mirrored that same expression. Were they not even taking this seriously?!

She was determined to show him the catastrophic mistake he had made.

Arnold's Omen conjured five blood spears. Both Godfrey and Percival disregarded the immediate threat, their gazes fixed on Arnold's Omen.

"Stop."

A deep voice echoed from a small, swirling anomaly in the air. The Zombie Panda halted its advance with immense effort, its claws hovering just above Percival's head.

Alora had to manifest wings, previously unknown to Godfrey, to prevent herself from reaching him. It was astonishing that they would expend such effort to halt their own attack mid-strike.

Their reverence for Saul was either profound, or they harbored a deep fear of him.

The swirling vortex expanded exponentially until it was large enough for a person to pass through. Godfrey descended and walked past Percival as he and the others glimpsed Saul's silhouette behind the portal.

He was standing. Suddenly, Saul erupted forth like a missile, launching a powerful punch directly at Godfrey.

Godfrey perceived the incoming blow the instant Saul emerged from the portal. His composed expression shifted, his eyebrows furrowed, and his hand clenched into a fist. He drew his own fist back and retaliated with a punch.

Godfrey felt no need to question why Saul would initiate an attack; they seemed destined to stand on opposing sides.

His very existence posed a threat to Saul's established authority.

A tremendous gale coalesced, forming a vortex, and in the subsequent moment, an explosion occurred, tearing a massive rift.

The concrete flooring cracked open, the fissure widening until it became a gaping chasm. The building itself split in two and began to tilt precariously, threatening imminent collapse.

Yet, Godfrey's fist and Saul's fist never made contact. An entity occupied the space between them, absorbing the full impact of their destructive blows. It was Ronald's bear, coiled into a shape resembling a tire.

Saul's eyes shifted towards Ronald, who stood poised at the edge of the now-ruined pit. Spectators were beginning to gather, drawn by the thunderous sound of the collapsing structure.

Meeting Ronald's icy gaze, Saul tilted his head. "I had no idea you harbored such hidden strength," Saul remarked, before turning his attention back to Godfrey as Ronald recalled his summon.

"If I ever see you here again, I will end you."

He had attempted to recruit Godfrey to his cause, yet publicly, Godfrey had spurned his outstretched hand, declaring himself unaffiliated.

As a consequence, he was no longer welcome in paradise.

"Must I be intimidated by such a threat? You do not possess paradise, and furthermore, everyone is permitted to join the cohort and participate in the tournament. Those are your own words, not mine," Godfrey retorted.

Saul forced a strained smile. "If you dare to rejoin this cohort, I will kill you. Should you remain in paradise, I will still kill you, and your mother will be compelled to continue working for the cohort while grieving your demise."

"What did you just say?" Godfrey and Ronald both tilted their heads, their eyes radiating a dangerous glint. Their auras surged to lethal intensities, and Saul rose to meet their might.

All three of them had reached the pinnacle of Titled God Tier; they could sense it.

"I would seriously reconsider if I were you." Percival's aura intensified. The very air around him warped and rippled, causing his hair to whip about as his gaze unleashed a sharp, piercing gleam.

Arnold, Nathan, and Alora braced themselves for what was to come.

Seven Titled gods were on the verge of a devastating confrontation.

Saul let out a low chuckle. "I've weathered worse storms than this. You've forfeited your opportunity." He balled his fists. "It would have been far better if you had faced Cain before me. His zealous followers are actively threatening the very place you hail from. You ran from a devil, only to encounter an angel who holds no allegiance to you."

Saul smirked. "Ah, you've stumbled into the most unfortunate place imaginable. One might negotiate with a devil, perhaps striking a deal of equivalent exchange, but an angel? There is no looking back, no second chances."

"That may hold some truth, but you are a considerable distance from being an angel." Godfrey scoffed with disdain. "And who exactly said I fled?"

At that precise moment, the fabric of space tore open, and Gabriel descended, his immense wings unfurled. The feathers adorning his wings shimmered with hues of white and pure gold.

His long, golden locks danced in the unseen currents as his golden eyes cast a commanding gaze upon them.

"It's the Watchman's angel!" A collective gasp escaped everyone as an overwhelming pressure descended upon them. What they were beholding was no mortal, but an existence far beyond humanity.