I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

"And he is?"

The question came from behind the wide wooden counter of one of the largest trading halls in the market.

The elderly merchant’s gaze lingered on Ethan for a moment before shifting toward the older Maqaue standing behind him, a trace of suspicion hidden beneath his otherwise welcoming smile.

The marketplace itself sprawled across the side of a steep hill carved directly into the mountain.

Hundreds of merchants had established permanent shops there, their stalls stretching along stone roads packed shoulder to shoulder with buyers.

Weapons forged from monster bones hung from iron racks. Strange herbs filled woven baskets, their fragrances mixing together in the warm mountain air.

Cages containing slaves from various races stood beneath cloth awnings while armored mercenaries wandered between the stalls searching for commissions.

It was a city built entirely around commerce.

Anything that possessed value could be bought here.

And anything that could be bought... could eventually be sold.

"He’s a slave boy," Servos answered flatly, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "Why all the questions?"

The merchant raised both hands apologetically.

"No offense intended."

His eyes, however, continued drifting back toward Ethan.

Something about the pair simply didn’t make sense.

Although he couldn’t accurately determine either of their exact strengths, years of experience had sharpened his instincts enough to recognize dangerous individuals whenever they entered his establishment.

Both of them radiated pressure far beyond ordinary warriors.

The older Maqaue... The hooded human...

Each felt like monsters wearing the skin of civilized people.

Yet according to Servos, the younger one was merely a slave.

Normally, binding a slave anywhere close to one’s own level required an unimaginable fortune.

It wasn’t impossible. But it certainly wasn’t common.

Especially not when both individuals appeared to stand at roughly the same realm.

"I see..."

The merchant slowly nodded.

"Must be quite an exceptional slave."

Neither Ethan nor Servos bothered correcting him.

The misunderstanding actually worked in their favor.

After all... very few people would ever imagine the truth.

That the old Maqaue standing confidently behind the young human was himself the slave.

The brand hidden beneath Servos’ clothing made that reality undeniable.

Months earlier, after Bark’s victory, the priest of the World Tree had personally engraved the slave mark into his neck.

Their positions had completely reversed.

Now Servos belonged to Ethan.

The merchant naturally had no way of knowing that.

His attention soon shifted toward the pile of monster cores spread across the counter.

One after another he picked them up, inspecting each with practiced movements.

Tier Eight. Tier Seven. Another Tier Seven.

Then several Tier Six cores.

The deeper he inspected, the slower his movements became.

By the time he reached the bottom of the pile, cold sweat had already formed across his forehead.

"This..."

He swallowed.

"This is quite the harvest."

Ethan simply smiled.

Traveling through the Great Wasteland hadn’t been entirely uneventful.

Although the route remained relatively safe compared to true war zones, the monsters displaced by recent battles had created excellent hunting opportunities.

Especially for someone at Ethan’s level.

To him... most of those creatures barely qualified as threats.

To ordinary adventurers... each represented a life-threatening encounter.

"I’ll need a moment to calculate everything."

The merchant called over several assistants, each carefully recounting the cores before comparing prices with thick ledgers stacked beneath the counter.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before he finally reached an answer.

Looking back at Ethan, he forced a professional smile.

"Would you prefer payment in gold coins..."

He paused.

"...or meteorite stones?"

"Meteorite stones."

Ethan answered without hesitation.

The merchant wasn’t surprised.

Gold possessed tremendous value inside human kingdoms.

Within Demi-human territory... its usefulness dropped considerably.

Meteorite stones, on the other hand, remained priceless everywhere.

Long before the current civilizations rose to power, ancient records claimed fragments from the Divine Realms had fallen upon the world like rain.

Each impact tore open tiny cracks in reality itself.

Countless civilizations had been destroyed. Entire mountain ranges reshaped overnight.

Yet those same heavenly stones also carried traces of primordial energy unlike anything naturally produced within the mortal world.

Over countless generations, Demi-humans and beasts gradually learned to harness that energy.

Unlike humans, whose strength revolved around summoning contracts, Demi-humans refined their bloodlines.

Warriors tempered unique techniques. Ancient clans evolved inherited classes passed down through their ancestors.

Meteorite stones became the foundation supporting all of it.

Without them... advancement slowed dramatically.

With them... bloodlines could awaken beyond their ordinary limits.

"An excellent choice."

The merchant disappeared into the back of the store before returning several minutes later carrying a polished storage ring.

"This contains the agreed amount."

Ethan briefly inspected its contents before nodding.

The number matched the valuation almost perfectly.

Satisfied, he slipped the ring onto one of his fingers.

The transaction was complete.

As the merchant prepared to bid them farewell, his gaze once again wandered toward Servos.

This time... a strange smile appeared on his face.

It was subtle. Knowing. Almost conspiratorial.

Servos immediately noticed it.

"...Can we leave now?"

He sighed heavily before grabbing Ethan by the sleeve.

"These strange looks are going to kill me."

The merchant chuckled to himself.

Among Demi-humans, unusual relationships between masters and slaves weren’t exactly unheard of.

Judging from the old Maqaue’s behavior... he naturally assumed Servos had grown rather attached to his young human servant.

The truth... couldn’t have been further from reality.

If anything... Servos was desperately hoping nobody discovered he was the one wearing the slave brand.

Otherwise, his reputation would disappear overnight.

Ethan merely smiled as the misunderstanding continued.

Correcting the merchant served no purpose.

The fewer people who understood their true relationship... the better.

...

After leaving the bustling marketplace, the pair retrieved their waiting drakes from a nearby stable built into the hillside.

With supplies replenished and their business concluded, they continued deeper into the mountain region.

The scenery gradually changed.

Narrow roads wound between towering cliffs covered in dense forests.

Waterfalls spilled from impossible heights into crystal-clear rivers below.

Villages carved directly into the mountainside appeared every few miles, each surrounded by terraced farms and watchtowers overlooking the valleys.

Compared to human settlements... the architecture felt far older.

Everything seemed built to endure centuries rather than decades.

Servos quietly led the way.

Without his guidance, Ethan doubted he would ever find the Maqaue Clan hidden among the countless mountain passes.

Several hours later... a massive fortress finally came into view.

Rather than a single city, the Maqaue Clan occupied an enormous region encompassing multiple valleys connected by bridges, tunnels and stone roads.

Fortified enclaves overlooked surrounding hills while towering walls protected the central settlement.

Smoke drifted peacefully from hundreds of chimneys.

Training grounds echoed with the sounds of sparring warriors.

For a clan considered relatively weak beneath the Dragon God Clan... its territory still dwarfed many human cities.

"Morning, Senior!"

A squad of young guards stationed outside the main gate immediately lowered their heads the moment Servos approached.

They didn’t recognize him personally. They didn’t need to.

The pressure radiating from his bloodline alone told them everything.

The old Maqaue standing before them belonged to the older generation.

And among Demi-humans... age often meant power.

Respect came naturally.

"You there."

Servos casually pointed toward one of the younger guards.

"Come here."

The guard hurried forward before lowering himself into a respectful bow.

"Yes, Senior."

Although they greeted him politely, none of the guards moved to open the gates.

Identity remained important within the Maqaue Clan.

Too many weak members had been exiled over the years. Too many enemies attempted infiltration.

Strength alone wasn’t enough.

Everyone entering still needed to prove who they were.

Servos didn’t seem offended.

Instead, a broad grin slowly spread across his face.

"Go and call Dorn Vion."

"The chief instructor of the sword training grounds."

The young guard blinked.

Servos folded both arms confidently across his chest.

"Tell him..."

"To come and pay respects..."

"To his father, Servos."

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