Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 410 Ruins Of The Order

Isaac's boots thudded heavily on the paved street as he ran, his gaze fixed on a dragon descending from the sky. Another attack by the Ghosts, he realized. The dragon managed to evade the initial assault, but Luthor's tail inflicted a grievous wound, tearing through its wing. Isaac unerringly shot a web towards the final building that would permit a sharp turn.

Gripping the strand tightly, he continued his sprint, appearing as though he intended to collide with the structure at the street's end. However, the taut web yanked him back forcefully. This sudden deceleration lifted his feet from the ground, and he rapidly fired more webs, each one propelling him higher and higher until he alighted atop a towering building. All the while, he was meticulously calculating the trajectory of the falling dragon. With immense power, he launched himself off the rooftop, ascending into the heavens, directly past the plummeting beast, his hair whipping wildly in the wind. Noticing him, the dragon unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, oblivious to the massive black spider with crimson eyes lurking below.

Neila meticulously prepared thousands of pale, sticky strands, stretching and weaving them between buildings to form a dense, silken labyrinth. This intricate trap was robust enough to ensnare her current target: a dragon.

'Little twerp, don't get yourself killed!' Neila's voice echoed urgently within Isaac's mind as he narrowly dodged the dragonfire, webbing the dragon's wings and rapidly spinning around its massive form.

He let out a dismissive scoff in response to Neila's warning and landed squarely on the dragon's chest. Activating an 'Echo of Neila Spider Spawn' skill, countless tiny spiders materialized from thin air and began to swarm.

While these spiders couldn't inflict significant damage on a dragon of this tier, they served as a perfect, irritating distraction, capable of keeping the colossal creature occupied.

Neila herself was a 38.0 Titled God-Tier summon. Though Isaac couldn't precisely determine the dragon's tier, it had to be a Titled God as well, albeit one with a considerably lower point value.

Nevertheless, its offensive capabilities were formidable.

'It's all yours!'

Isaac sprinted along the dragon's length and leaped clear just as it plunged directly into Neila's extensive web. Neila deftly secured her web, maneuvering below it as the dragon became hopelessly entangled.

She swiftly moved across the sticky strands while the dragon thrashed against its bonds. Her forelimbs plunged into the dragon's skull, executing a single, precise strike that ended its life.

Her gaze immediately locked onto another dragon descending towards her. Neila abandoned her web and retreated from the scene as the newly arrived dragon incinerated its fallen comrade, reducing her meticulously constructed trap to ashes.

As the dragon soared over the devastated landscape, searching for her, Neila—having reverted to her human form—transformed back into a colossal spider. She launched a web, ensnaring the dragon's tail, and then pulled backward with immense force, wrenching the creature to the ground.

It crashed with a deafening roar. The dragon bellowed in pain and fury, but Neila swiftly deployed several more webs, immobilizing its tail and limbs against the earth. She then covered its snout with webbing, preventing any fiery exhalation.

She transitioned back into her humanoid form, her eight spider legs retracting and merging into her body as she licked her lips with a predatory glint.

Neila opened her mouth, absorbing the dragon's dying memories. Then, one of her spider legs pierced through its skull.

'There, there. To think you would attack your own mother with such killing intent. Tsk! It seems not having offspring was indeed the right decision,' she murmured to herself, disregarding certain inconvenient truths, such as the dragon's current state. All she knew was that Isolde was their mother – whether by birth or by providing a home, sustenance, and strength, it mattered not. Isolde's ascension to demigod status had prompted her to re-hatch all her dragons, and any others that came under her domain, making her title a tangible reality. 'Where is that little…' Neila paused, her attention diverted as she observed Isaac guiding a group of people towards the northern sector, in the direction of the elf statue.

Given that the dragons were emerging from that particular area, it had seemed like the safest refuge. However, considering the recent events, that might no longer be the case.

For the moment, however, it offered a degree of safety. At least, until the final dragon was vanquished.

Neila gazed upward at the brutal aerial combat unfolding between the dragons. A quarter of the city lay in ruins, yet her eight eyes remained fixed on Isolde, who manipulated her spear with effortless grace. The weapon pierced a dragon's skull, transforming it into an ice sculpture that then shattered into a thousand glittering shards.

Isolde remained stationary, positioned at the very center of the conflict between these apex predators. Her crimson hair fluttered, catching the moonlight, which cast an ethereal glow upon her golden armor.

As much as she loathed to admit it, Neila found herself inexplicably drawn to the powerful aura emanating from the young woman. She had never admired anyone before, particularly not another female. Yet, Isolde was beginning to evoke such an emotion within her, a development Neila found deeply unsettling.

'Godfrey…' Neila's brow furrowed. 'Whatever you are doing, expedite it.' Neila shifted her gaze from the elf statue back to Isolde. 'Or you will lose her.'

Where the grand Golden Order Castle once stood, only a sunken ruin shrouded in a light mist now remained. This magnificent structure, once the beacon of hope for the Pathan world, had plunged several meters deep, with mere remnants of its former glory peeking through the ethereal fog.

The age-old streets, the curving spires, and the walls that had endured for centuries had all crumbled into dust.

"Land." Godfrey declared, and Solstice descended gracefully, alighting on a precipice directly overlooking the vast, submerged city.

Godfrey disembarked and approached the edge. Gazing upon the immense expanse of this ruin, he allowed himself to envision the glorious era of the Order. He had departed Paradise immediately after leaving the Watchtower, had commenced planning with Isolde, and subsequently met with the Alchemist for a discussion.

He had also dedicated time to studying the Golden Order's map before commencing the arduous journey atop Solstice's back, enduring hours of non-stop flight.

A low weariness was evident in Godfrey's voice, his eyelids drooping. He required rest to achieve his peak condition, uncertain of what challenges might lie ahead in this desolate place.

Even the Alchemist had no clear answers. However, Isolde's life, along with Isaac's and many others', hung precariously in the balance. He understood his priorities. He also acknowledged the presence of pitiable souls amidst the detestable populace. Nearly forty-eight hours had passed in continuous activity. Perhaps he should have rested while airborne on Solstice's back.

He could have, but instead, he had channeled that time into contemplating the utilization of the four demigod cores. These could elevate Solstice to his zenith, or be allocated to four Alchemists, bringing him tantalizingly close—requiring only six more—to unsealing Abaddon.

Alternatively… he could attempt to breach Mountain's existing restriction using these cores. Should this endeavor fail, all the cores might prove to be utterly wasted.

As his weary mind contemplated the desolate scene, a conclusion formed in Godfrey's throbbing head.

The moment had arrived to promote Mountain to the rank of general and unlock his true potential. He harbored the hope that the four cores would suffice to unleash his long-stunted capabilities.