Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights Chapter 503 Mother's Cradle

Ronald stepped into his room. "Your mother is waiting for you." He said, watching Godfrey dress up.

"I'll be there. Give me a minute."

"You're a Titled god Tier summoner and you don't know how to snap your fingers and your clothes would come on."

Godfrey glanced at his father. "Is that possible?"

Ronald cleared his throat, sitting on the bed. "It's not. I just implied that with all our strength there are some things we still do… normally."

He looked at Godfrey. "I hope you dealt with whatever did that to you."

"I did."

"Good. Did it feel pain?"

"It did."

Ronald smiled. Father and son stared into each other's eyes.

"The plan. I see you didn't tell mum." Godfrey said.

"You know how fragile she is. She doesn't have to know you'll become the Unknown King. She won't recover from the shock."

"I'm going now."

"Now!" Ronald's tone surprised Godfrey. "Stay. Spend the day with your mother first. I have to be at the camp but I kept that aside to escort her. She'll want to spend time with you, son."

"Will you stay then?"

"I know you don't want to see the mana tree but even if I stay it won't change anything. As we speak, she filters through our minds. Nothing can be hidden from the mana tree. You know this." Ronald said.

Godfrey sighed. He might as well be present while Isolde was crowned as his Consort. His absence would truly make her feel unhappy. He took a deep breath.

Ronald rose, patted his shoulder and strolled to the door. He hesitated at the door. 'I tracked our golden fate and… your mother. She doesn't—'

Ronald closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the words were gone. After one last glance at his son, he walked away.

***

Godfrey lay on a sofa, his head resting on Valentina's lap. She ran her fingers through his golden hair, studying him all the while. Earlier, she had insisted on examining him from head to toe, and even now she seemed reluctant to stop.

Unfortunately for Godfrey, he no longer had the will to argue. His mother's familiar scent was oddly comforting.

She kept trying to convince him to stay away from dungeons, insisting he was already strong enough.

He skirted around the subject before pretending to be asleep.

She held his nose and wriggled it, pouting at how stubborn he was at the subject. She would speak to Isolde. Both of them should be able to convince him.

Meanwhile, though his eyes remained closed, his consciousness sat on the throne, towering pillars standing in proud rows on both sides of the hall.

All the Alchemists were gathered with the Royal Apostles, their backs toward him.

Right on time. Godfrey thought.

The Apostles stood in a semi circle and someone knelt in their midst. He could spot glimpses of gold. It was her.

Maybe not exactly right on time since they were halfway through the coronation process. And he didn't have enough information about Pathan's tradition on this.

"Mother of dragons, Consort to the Known King…" The Alchemist continued to speak, ten voices overlapping and bouncing against the walls of the massive throne room.

It made Godfrey sit straight. Their combined voices sounded like a chant, pulsating with vigorous power, like intangible ripples expanding through the air to every part of not just the throne room but the entire castle.

"... You are the chosen of Earth, blessed with the mana tree's youngest leaf and the beginning of its questions."

Zaun placed one hand on her shoulder.

"It has granted you growth that will far exceed all in terms of speed but also burdened you with the rulership of dragons, a race never meant to have a ruler. Rise, not as a general but as the king's consort."

The sudden spread of energy ceased. Armour clanked as Isolde rose to her feet. Her gilded helmet curved elegantly around her head, the visor stopping midway down her face to leave her lips and chin exposed. Through an opening at the back, her crimson ponytail spilled like a plume, swaying gently against the dark-gold plates of her armour.

The plates were gold, yet it refused to gleam beneath the light, swallowing the sun instead of reflecting it.

There were ornate patterns and reliefs on the greaves and the vambrace. A radiant sunblast encircled the helmet like a crown, its lines glowing as though etched with sunlight itself.

Finally, a crimson cloak wrapped around her shoulders, its front drawn across her chest. It concealed much of the cuirass before cascading behind her in two heavy folds that would brushed together with every step. A thin line of golden trim bordered the crimson cloth.

Burdened with the path of ruling the dragons. How quaint. The mana tree knew dragons were their own lords, but even with all that, it decided to create a strict hierarchy system.

One that placed a great prize before the eyes of all dragons. Instead of raiding cities for gold or food, they could simply aim for the top.

This drove them into the quest for strength. Dragons and their pride, they would all covet that spot at the slightest advantage.

Whoever ruled was walking on hot coals. Yet, It was her grand purpose.

Isolde fell out of her thoughts the moment she saw Godfrey. He once sat but now he was standing.

He wasn't there when she came. That had pricked her heart. He stood on the dais, towering high above her who stood below the stairs.

Husband and wife, king and queen, knight and dragon. They were a lot of things, and had their own paths and burdens.

She once thought the mana tree wanted her to be beside Godfrey but maybe it never intended for that to last. They were rulers of two stark different races.

Could rulers truly succeed together without the ambition of one oppressing the other?

So, when she looked at him, she saw only Godfrey. Not the Known King. She liked to believe he saw only Isolde—not the Mother of Dragons.

She smiled. "You came."

Godfrey nodded. "Come. I want you to sit on my throne."

Isolde blinked. "W—" She looked at the Alchemists and Royal Apostles. Wasn't he concerned about what they would think?

Her eyes widened when Zaun tilted his head, gesturing subtly for her to go.

As she ascended the staircase, Isolde saw one of the most charming smiles she had ever seen on his face.

Godfrey proffered his hand when Isolde got to the last stair. She reached out and took it.

***

Valentina stopped caressing Godfrey's hair. Her eyes became white. Like a sclera without irises. She gently dropped Godfrey's head on the sofa, left and returned with a silver dagger. A weapon she commanded Cain to get for her.

She sat down once more, running the fingers of her left hand through his hair.

"My sweet boy. You fought well… Too well."

She held the dagger above his heart. Her eyes widened as something screamed and clawed within her. Begging, pleading.

What?

"I want this world to succeed. I've seen enough failures and you are not one of them. With this, you've fulfilled your purpose." She whispered then plunged the dagger through his heart.

***

Isolde held tight to Godfrey's fingers but all of a sudden, his smile fell. His expression twisted in pain.

He let go of her, staggered to the side and collapsed. Everything blacked out for both of them.

As she awoke in her mansion, gasping in shock and confusion, death embraced him in his mother's cradle.