Others Summon Dragons, I Summon Legendary Knights

Chapter 498: What Has Happened To Me

Godfrey watched Percival’s keen expression and sighed. "Isolde has been doing some research, and she discovered something that was there all along but skipped my mind."

Percival squinted. He wanted to know what it is, to ask, but decided to restrain himself and remain quiet.

"It’s my father. He has the ability to weave memories into creation. Everything about me, from my perspective. From his perspective, from my mo—" He paused for a moment.

"From my mother, Isolde, and even from the rest of you. The Unknown King will want to know about himself. Isolde’s visions prove that," Godfrey said, completely assured.

The last time Ronald used that ability was when they first met and it breached the gap between them more than he realized.

He knew his father’s skill was it. The key to bringing him back. He had Isolde to thank for figuring this out.

However, Percival still had a skeptical look. His temples formed several folds, like the currents on the sea. He didn’t look convinced.

His constricted irises normalized and settled squarely on Godfrey. "Then we’ll do it the moment you clear the trial."

"I don’t want that. Give me at least a week before I’m restored."

"A week to do what?"

Percival’s question silenced Godfrey. Indeed, a week to do what? He thought he would want to be restored as fast as possible, but his heart spoke differently.

’I want to become him!’ That thought made him frown. Why? Godfrey thought hard. Had his battered and weary mind finally gotten to him? Doubt had sprouted in his heart.

"I..." He sighed deeply. It couldn’t be. Godfrey felt dismayed. The truth wasn’t hidden anymore. He was confused, he was in doubt. Who was to establish justice? Who was to stand on the right side when even he himself might be on the wrong?

His motives weren’t as concrete as before. For this reason, he resorted to the goal of killing Cain. It couldn’t be... it was. It truly was.

He wanted to kill Cain. That was now his objective, all that he focused on, because there seemed to be nothing else. His life once had a purpose, even if it wasn’t clear.

"I—"

Lucy appeared on her stone seat. Whatever she was about to say died. Her eyes froze at the sight of Percival.

"You’re here!"

Percival lifted an eyebrow. "Uh, I don’t understand. I told you that—"

"What happened to you?!" She rose to her feet. It terrified her that something could do such damage to Godfrey. He was her pillar. Lucy had anchored herself to him, knowing that as long as Godfrey was alive, the world couldn’t get worse.

He’d fix it or at least, save a few in a gallant way. Just like in Manhattan but the sight of him shook it. "How?" said a sad voice, soaked in disbelief.

"I’ll be good as new soon enough." Godfrey said.

She scoffed. "I want to know what happ—"

"I thought you were in the bathroom. How did you—?!" Percival navigated her attention back to him. He sensed Godfrey’s slight instability. Something might have changed but he hoped his perception was wrong. However, he was also cut short.

"That’s not me!" Lucy screamed, then forcefully calmed herself. Her voice was too loud. "That thing with you is a monster. There was one pretending to be you on my side, but I’ve gotten rid of it."

"What?" Percival’s brows came together. His frown transitioned into bewilderment, then to realization. He did sense that Lucy was acting differently.

"Snow found me. Someone tried to clear a trial in Charlestown and failed. Now the entire town is under an illusion by a being above the Titled God Tier. It’s flooded with monsters disguised as humans, and Jon is also after Snow with an army of Fanatics."

’Jon, Fanatics, monsters... I need to...!’ Godfrey felt a stir within him. Finally, Jon was within reach. He would make sure he paid for what he did. He could kill those Fanatics and clear those monsters.

But that urge died as quickly as it came. What did spending all those days in silence, darkness, and hunger while centipedes moved within his body do to him?

Unsteadiness and doubt. They plagued his every thought. It whispered like a woman in the dark, asking if he just sought an opportunity to kill, if that was what his life was all about.

Killing.

He froze, jaws snapped shut. Lucy’s and Percival’s conversation became like distant gossip, his mind lost, his right eye staring blankly at the table.

Conversing with Isolde restored him. He was supposed to be back on his feet with purpose. That purpose was nowhere to be found right now.

All this fight, all this killing, once made sense when he couldn’t see the entire picture. Now it was nothing more than a game. There was no true justification for these deaths or the past ones.

This wasn’t the survival of the fittest. This wasn’t—

’No. No. You can’t be this miserable, Godfrey.’ He folded his fingers into a fist. ’I can’t believe I’m thinking like this.’

His emotions were becoming a burden too heavy for him to carry. He might shut them off like he did in the Black Sea, but if that became a recurring occurrence, he might end up without emotions.

"Damn it." His voice was low, but Lucy and Percival had suddenly gone quiet. Did they throw a question at him?

"That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear," Lucy sounded shocked.

Percival examined him, then glanced at Lucy. He found her also staring at him. Apparently, she had the same thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked Godfrey. Lucy nodded.

"I..." Godfrey exhaled. "I’ll inform Isaac and Isolde. They’ll help. I’ll clear the trial. Once I do that, you will all be able to ascend."

Doing something for them. This felt better. Much better.

"But—"

Godfrey shook his head at Percival. "You’re in a town crowded with monsters. Deal with it, then we’ll talk."

’I’m breaking. I can almost feel the cracks in my soul,’ he thought, his one eye moist as they both left after a while.

It was moist because he was in pain. Deep pain that came from anger and frustrations that couldn’t be unleashed. The only means he thought of clearing his head was to kill.

To kill something, and for some reason, that thought froze him.

Why was this happening? Godfrey feared he might descend into a pathetic man. He feared his mental health had slipped beyond his control and he had fallen from grace.

From being told he would rule an entire race to becoming this in just three years?

Godfrey sat in the hall, embraced by its silence. His head dipped low. Then, with the effort of a king with burdens too heavy to carry, he groaned from his seat.

The door eased open, and three Alchemists, led by Zaun, walked in.

Godfrey sat back then. "You’re here."

"We can do what you requested. Make Isolde the Queen Consort of the Pathani. She will become like us, exempt from the oath, relying on herself. Your... your lack of mana won’t affect her presence anymore."

"Good."

"There are consequences, Your Majesty. You will lose her symbiotic bond."

"She gives me just ten percent. I can trade that. I will unseal Apollyon and Abaddon once I face that trial. Also, work on raising those dead generals back. Tell me whatever you want, I’ll fetch it."

Zaun nodded—a single nod. "Will you be present for the ceremony of your consort?"

’So Isolde will see me like this. No. I’ve been more than enough of a burden since her childhood.’

"No."

Zaun said nothing, but the other Alchemists looked at each other.

Godfrey slowly rose to his feet. ’I and my castle are one and the same. It is me, and I am it. So, in a way, I will still be there. Just unable to speak.’

For a split moment, Godfrey felt the castle rumble, resonating with him.

Dim fireflies scattered out, vanishing moments later. Godfrey was gone.