I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

"Thank you, great sir."

The four human slaves immediately dropped to their knees before Ethan, relief and awe written plainly across their faces as they stared at the young man standing before them.

Just moments ago, they had been certain they were going to die.

The ten Tudor clansmen surrounding their young master had been armed, experienced, and completely confident in their superiority. Yet Ethan had eliminated every single one of them without showing the slightest sign of struggle.

His movements had been so clean that, to the four slaves, it had almost looked like the wind itself had passed through the group.

One moment the Tudor clansmen had been alive, and the next, their bodies were scattered across the bamboo floor.

They had never witnessed such overwhelming strength before.

The only person they could compare Ethan to was the infamous Ravager of the Tudor, a figure whose name alone was enough to terrify slaves throughout the region.

"It’s fine," Ethan said calmly. "Stand up."

He wiped the blood from his blade before turning his attention toward the corpses.

Even if he had never met Victoria, he would still have killed these people.

The Tudor clansmen had chosen their path long ago—they were humans who had willingly allied themselves with the Demi-human clans, selling their own kind into slavery in exchange for protection and status.

They hunted human tribes, captured their people, and delivered them to their masters. To Ethan, there was nothing honorable about them.

[10/100 Human Clan]

Another notification appeared inside his mind.

Ethan glanced at it briefly before dismissing it. He valued human life, but that did not mean he was obligated to value every human.

These people had betrayed their own race for personal gain, and he felt no remorse for taking their lives.

"Let’s keep moving."

Ethan sheathed his sword and continued deeper into the bamboo forest.

Victoria stared at his back for several seconds before exchanging glances with the other three slaves.

None of them needed to say anything as they quickly followed—they wasn’t fools, and the Bamboo Mirage Dungeon was an extremely dangerous place.

They had already witnessed countless creatures capable of killing them without effort, meaning remaining alone would be suicide.

If following Ethan meant even a small chance of survival, they would take it. For the first time since entering the dungeon, they felt that they might actually make it out alive.

...

"I’m here! Come get me!"

Somewhere else within the endless bamboo forest, an older Maqaue man stood with his sword tightly gripped in his left hand, his body surrounded by several younger members of the sword training ground.

Across from him stood a group of Maqaue warriors carrying poleaxes who had formed themselves into a tight formation, their weapons raised as they slowly surrounded their opponents.

Even inside the Maqaue clan, there were conflicts—the five training grounds constantly competed against one another.

Normally, those rivalries remained within the boundaries of training and competition, but after the disappearance of the sword training ground’s chief for two years, things had changed.

The sword training ground had lost a significant amount of influence, their strongest members forced to compensate for the absence of their leader as several old grievances resurfaced.

Now, some members of the other training grounds saw an opportunity.

"You think you can kill us and walk away?" one of the young swordsmen shouted from the ground, his clothes torn and blood running down one side of his face. "You sword-training-ground punks really think that because Half-Grace Davos and Roa are on your side, you can do whatever you want?"

The poleax-wielding Maqaue standing before them sneered, resting his massive weapon against his shoulder.

"Tell you what." His eyes narrowed. "I’ll kill you first."

He paused before continuing. "Then I’ll have my way with her."

His gaze shifted toward one of the female members of the sword training ground as he added, "What do you think about that?"

The surrounding swordsmen clenched their weapons as the deliberate insult hit its mark.

The poleax warrior wanted them angry; he wanted them to lose their composure.

The sword training ground had always been notoriously dangerous within the Maqaue clan, its members being some of the most aggressive warriors in the clan.

But their chief’s absence had changed everything—for two years, they had been forced to operate without the man who had once held their training ground together.

Their talent had declined, their influence had weakened, and now everyone wanted to settle old scores.

"What?" The young poleax warrior laughed when he saw the fury in their eyes. "You’re still indignant? You think anyone will even know we killed you here?"

His grin widened as he raised his poleax, the weapon beginning its descent toward the wounded swordsman.

But before it could land—

BOOM!

A massive beast suddenly crashed into the formation, its body slamming into the young Maqaue warrior and tearing through his defenses.

Several others were thrown violently into the ground in an attack so fast that none of them even understood what had happened.

And this wasn’t an isolated incident.

Across the Bamboo Mirage Dungeon, similar conflicts were erupting as groups of Maqaue warriors encountered one another and immediately began fighting.

Some were old rivals, others were settling personal grudges, and some simply wanted to eliminate competitors before reaching the deeper parts of the dungeon.

The forest amplified every conflict—with the environment constantly separating groups and preventing them from easily finding one another, people became increasingly desperate.

And unlike ordinary disagreements outside the dungeon, these conflicts frequently ended in death.

Ethan watched some of these events from a distance, beside him standing Morgana, her expression strangely distant as though she were half lost in a trance.

While approaching the rendezvous point, Ethan had noticed something disturbing: there were conflicts everywhere.

It wasn’t simply the natural danger of the dungeon—the Maqaue themselves were becoming another danger.

Yet Ethan wasn’t particularly concerned about who was attacking whom, as he had a much simpler objective: the Tudor clansmen.

Every time he encountered them, his mission progressed, and every time one died beneath his blade, another notification appeared.

He continued moving through the forest, and soon, the number climbed—thirty, forty, then fifty.

[50/100 Human Clan]

Ethan looked at the notification before continuing forward, not particularly fearing being discovered.

The drakes he used were difficult to track directly to him, and the presence of monsters throughout the dungeon provided enough chaos to obscure his movements.

Only Servos had some idea of what was actually happening, but even Servos was bound by Ethan’s slave contract.

As far as everyone else was concerned, Ethan was simply another human servant traveling with the Maqaue expedition—and that was enough.

Several days passed until eventually, the massive beam of light marking the rendezvous point became visible through the bamboo.

One by one, groups emerged from different sections of the forest—some were wounded, some had lost members, and others arrived carrying corpses.

The expedition that had entered the dungeon with hundreds of people had already been reduced considerably.

Ethan finally stepped into the gathering area with four human slaves walking beside him.

They looked exhausted, but they were alive, and more importantly, they had made it.

"Ethan, my boy!"

A familiar voice immediately reached him as Servos hurried over, relief flashing across his face the moment he saw Ethan standing among the survivors.

"Good. You made it."

The old man immediately pulled Ethan into a tight embrace, but his expression changed almost instantly as his voice dropped.

"Why are you killing Maqaue members?"

Servos leaned closer, his face suddenly serious as the words were transmitted directly into Ethan’s mind through the slave mark.

"Davos is pissed!"

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

Servos continued, "Several Maqaue members have come forward with the same story: they were attacked by drakes."

"Drakes aren’t native to this dungeon." His eyes darted around cautiously. "And there is only one summoner in this entire expedition."

Servos didn’t need to explain further as everyone was beginning to suspect Ethan—the evidence was simply too convenient.

The strange creatures appearing throughout the dungeon, the dead Maqaue members, and the fact that Ethan was a summoner all pointed in one direction.

Ethan, however, remained completely calm.

"It’s fine. Those aren’t my summons." He shrugged casually.

Servos stared at him, unable to tell whether Ethan was being incredibly confident or simply insane.

Ethan ignored his expression and looked toward the notifications appearing within his mind.

[100/100 Serpent Clan members killed]

[50/100 Human Clan members killed]

A faint smile appeared across his face.

He had already made considerable progress, and for now... that was enough.

As Ethen stepped into the area, Davos quickly scanned him for any trace of panic. He wasn’t sure where servos got this slave from, but he was too strong to be true.

"Come"

From atop a rock in the distance he called Ethen forward his eyes pericing through him in a stable steady state.

It felt like he wanted to see inside of his soul.

But Ethen did not move, matching the gaze of this demi god without a trace of fear.

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