Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 392 I Have Someone In Mind

The enclave associated with dragons bestowed a title upon Abaddon. It was evident that he possessed the merit required to earn such a distinction from the proud dragons, creatures recognized for their superior potential and might compared to ordinary dragons, leading them to shed their usual pride and grant him an appellation born of respect, and perhaps even… apprehension.

Oliver cleared his throat, intending to capture Godfrey's attention. "You are scheduled to confront Arnold. That individual holds the position of second-in-command under Captain Saul. He is by no means weak. Which summon do you intend to deploy against him?" he inquired.

"I have already determined who will face him," Godfrey stated. Within the expanse of his soul space, a towering figure, ten feet in height, clad in lean armor, was seated upon an elevated throne, illuminated by three torches positioned above.

His armor was not cumbersome like that of other melee knights; instead, it was elegantly streamlined to complement his slender build. His short hair had turned a stark white, and he wore a white mask that covered his face, secured by two metal buckles at his neck. This was not due to any external requirement, but rather because the ensemble had become an unfamiliar sight without it.

In one hand, a tome hovered, its pages slowly turning until they settled on the seventh page, where his gaze fixated upon the image of a volcanic hammer – a testament to his past identity.

***

Team Black was assembled in a circular chamber, furnished with a bench that encompassed the room's perimeter. A young woman entered and handed Arnold a tablet.

Upon reviewing the match-ups, he passed the tablet to Alora. Nathan then ambled over to her, and together they examined the screen. The instant both of them comprehended the team pairings, the look of anticipation upon their faces underwent a significant shift.

Alora let out a scoff, bordering on amusement. "This is nothing short of an insult. After all our rigorous training, this is what the Captain deems suitable for us? Heroes from a bygone era? They are mere imitators in this new age," she declared.

Nathan pressed his palm against the bench and directed his gaze towards the ceiling, from which the muffled sounds of activity above could be discerned.

"I have long harbored a desire to teach Oliver and Arden a lesson," he voiced.

Alora cast a sideways glance at Nathan. "You are a rather peculiar child," she remarked.

Nathan offered a shrug. "Perhaps so."

Alora then looked towards Arnold, her expression conveying a clear message: 'You are nurturing an unnervingly disturbed child.'

"Nathan’s summon is quite rare. They are humanoid beasts possessing intelligence, but the panda is particularly afflicted with bloodlust due to its undead nature. Furthermore, owing to Nathan’s unique connection with it, he is inadvertently affected, mentally speaking," Arnold explained, his arms crossed.

"I am not insane! Captain Saul explicitly stated that we should not permit the weak to look down upon us. And they have been looking down on me this entire time!" Nathan retorted, his voice rising.

Abaddon cast a brief glance in his direction, prompting Nathan to fall silent.

Alora scoffed. "Hey!" She snapped her fingers in Abaddon's direction, successfully drawing his gaze. She then met his eyes with a smirk.

Arnold leaned forward. "I comprehend your desire to gauge your own strength, Alora, but should you engage with that particular entity, they will require days to meticulously cleanse your remains from these very walls," he stated.

His words caused Alora’s smirk to gradually dissipate as she averted her gaze from Abaddon. Arnold was aware of her displeasure but seemed indifferent to it.

"Simply handle Oliver and Arden effectively."

"Is this not excessive? I doubt the audience will be inclined to support us when they witness such a complete annihilation."

Arnold let out a chuckle in response to Alora's observation. "Indeed, this scarcely qualifies as a mere fight. However, observe, one of the methods to silence dissent is through appeasement. The majority are already indebted to the Captain for the distribution of cores that occurred two months ago. Their lives have seen improvement, as has their healthcare and security. Consequently… they will be compelled to offer their cheers or remain silent observers."

Arnold then laughed heartily. "This is precisely why he consistently advises, 'Be mindful of your actions.' Some poisons are not intended to lead to death, but rather to enforce silence, and at times, that silence can be profoundly agonizing. Therefore…"

He cast his gaze upon both of them.

"Go forth and unleash your might. The primary target here is the golden ace. The greater the torment you inflict upon Arden and the bandaged boy, the more incensed our golden ace will become. It is his responsibility, after all. And when you eventually confront him, he will undoubtedly reveal his absolute best." Arnold then turned his attention back to Alora.

"Do you not wish to face his ultimate prowess?" His eyes gleamed as he observed Alora’s burgeoning excitement, only to extinguish it with his subsequent declaration. "That is, of course, if he even manages to defeat me."

Suddenly, the room they occupied lurched violently. Stones rumbled as the entire chamber began its ascent, much like an elevator.

The higher they ascended, the more pronounced the sounds emanating from above became.

"The time has arrived," Arnold announced.

"Esteemed ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the highly anticipated Demigod Essence Tournament! This spectacular event pits two formidable teams against each other, with all participants belonging to the Elite Class. These are vagabonds who have braved the perils of the outside world, plundered countless dungeons, evaded the agents of authority, and led countless Regulars. Today, they will clash for the unparalleled opportunity to attain something that even the cores of peak-level demigods cannot provide!"

With a resonant grinding sound, the chamber ceased its upward movement. They could now behold the immense colosseum, its bleachers packed with an eager crowd of spectators, some of their own cohort members already vociferously cheering.

At a specially designated vantage point, elevated above the bleachers, their Captain was seated, with Apollyon standing vigilantly behind him. The individual addressing the crowd stood beside them.

"The first match is a group battle. Let us welcome Nathan and Alora to represent Team Black," the announcer declared.

As the portcullis lifted, Alora emerged, Nathan by her side. They stepped not onto sand, but a paved arena floor, constructed from exotic world stones and fortified with advanced, unknown technology.

"Their opponents are Arden and Oliver from Team Yellow. Though of lower tier, both are renowned as two of the most skilled Vagabonds in this cohort!"

The announcer's voice boomed while Godfrey sat, his hands clasped and his expression grim as he watched Oliver and Arden exit the room and enter the arena.

Percival, manning the portcullis controls, turned to Godfrey. "What will you do if they are killed? Would you care that the one you plan to pursue is a mere child?"

Godfrey replied with a serene countenance, his Black-Out eyes revealing little beyond a chilling, profound coldness. "What child kills? What makes it an abomination to harm them is their innocence and fragility. That will cease to exist if either Oliver or Arden is slain by him."

"So, you will kill them," Percival stated, his eyes narrowing before he turned back to the ring.

"And what if I am also killed? Will you kill your knight?"

A tense silence followed, so deep that Percival had to turn to face Godfrey again.

"No answer?" Percival pressed.

"None," Godfrey responded.

"Why?"

"Because you will not die. There would be no tournament before that occurrence, not even before Oliver and Arden are put to death," Godfrey stated. At that precise moment, a palpable wave of suppression washed over the room, indicating the initiation of countermeasures.

Percival instructed, "I suppose they anticipated interference. Godfrey, concentrate on securing victory in this match, not on saving lives. If you win, you will shatter Saul's prestige before everyone. You will diminish his reverence, making it forever unstable, thus restoring paradise. If you act otherwise, you will become the public's enemy. You cannot afford to become that here, as well."

Percival locked gazes with him.

Godfrey's blue eyes, a stark contrast to his Black-Out ones which acted as a shield, were visible windows to his emotions.

Percival continued, "You cannot face public hatred a second time when you are attempting to do what is right. That is precisely why you need me: to prevent you from acting on your heart and instead guide you to act with your mind."

Godfrey lowered his head, his intense gaze fixed upon his tightly clenched fist.

Yes, the ultimate objective was Saul, but if he remained inactive, his teammates might suffer dire consequences. Could he stand by, witness such events unfold before his very eyes, and do nothing?