I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

"Hmp!! Okay, okay, whatever."

The red-haired Maqaue elder waved a hand dismissively, clearly frustrated that his carefully chosen bet had collapsed so quickly. The outcome had been almost laughably one-sided. He had expected the Wind Devil training ground to struggle against the sand worm for at least half an hour, but instead, a human had appeared out of nowhere and killed the beast almost instantly.

"You have a strong human," the elder muttered, crossing his arms. "Fine. I admit it."

Davos merely smiled, his posture unbothered. Fortunately, the wager had not been particularly costly to the projection. The information being exchanged was not something the elders intended to keep secret forever anyway—they had planned to tell Davos eventually, if only to give him some slim chance of returning alive from the depths of the Bamboo Mirage Dungeon.

The red-haired elder leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming considerably more serious. "The reason our people die when attempting to revive the Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil is actually quite straightforward."

Davos’s expression changed as he leaned forward slightly, the playful atmosphere around the table vanishing in an instant.

"It has to do with how much energy an angel consumes when entering hibernation," the elder explained, while the other projections remained silent beside him.

Davos already knew the Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil was an angel, and that fact alone made the mission inherently dangerous. But the problem wasn’t simply waking an ancient angel—it was waking one that had deliberately placed itself into deep hibernation.

"For beings at the divine level, living for a thousand years isn’t impossible," the elder continued, his weathered voice gravelly. "But there is still a limit. Only gods possess true immortality. Angels may live for extraordinarily long periods, but eventually even their bodies and souls begin to reach their limits. Hibernation is one of the few ways they overcome that."

Davos listened carefully, taking in every word.

The elder picked up a cup from the table and slowly rotated it between his thick fingers. "Imagine an angel’s next evolution requirement demands something that no longer exists in the world. Or perhaps that specific treasure won’t appear for another several hundred years. An angel has two choices: die before completing the requirement, or enter hibernation and wait."

Davos’s eyes narrowed into slits. "That’s what happened to him?"

"Partially," the elder nodded. "Hibernation isn’t simple sleep. An angel has to shut down almost every function of its divine body and soul, sealing away an enormous amount of its power to reduce its consumption to almost nothing. That process itself requires tremendous energy. And when the time comes to wake them..." He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "You need a spark of divinity."

The words hung heavily in the air.

"A genuine spark of divinity can only be obtained from another divine existence," the elder added quietly.

Davos’s expression darkened. "If our clan possessed another angel..."

"It would be much easier," the red-haired elder gave a bitter laugh. "But we don’t. We only have Demi-Gods."

That was the real problem. The Maqaue clan had numbers, they had powerful bloodlines, and they had numerous talented warriors. But they lacked another true divine existence capable of supplying the necessary spark to ignite the ancient beast’s slumbering engine.

"So every time someone attempts the ritual..." Davos began, his voice flat.

"They fail. Or rather, they die," the elder confirmed smoothly. "The ritual forcibly extracts the life force and soul essence of the invoker to substitute for what is missing."

Davos leaned back against his seat. He had already expected the dungeon to be treacherous, but he hadn’t expected the actual ritual to carry an absolute zero-percent survival rate for the person performing it. That changed everything.

The red-haired elder let out a low sigh. "Honestly, Davos, we didn’t send you there simply to die."

The corner of Davos’s mouth twitched upward in cold amusement. "Didn’t you?"

"Of everyone in this clan, you have the highest chance of capturing a Demi-God beast," the elder insisted, while the other projections nodded in unison. "That is why you’re going. Your class makes you uniquely suited for this."

Davos’s eyes narrowed slightly. His class was Beast Tamer—among Demi-humans, especially those whose bloodlines shared a natural affinity with beasts, it was one of the more common paths. But reaching the Demi-God level through that class was another matter entirely. Most Beast Tamers hit an absolute wall long before reaching such heights, yet Davos had broken through, which was precisely why so many people considered him a generation-defining genius.

His ability to tame, control, and command powerful beasts had allowed him to accomplish feats that other Maqaue warriors could only dream of. It was also why several members of the older generation secretly resented him.

"So I’m your sacrificial lamb?" Davos’s voice was ice-cold.

The red-haired elder didn’t immediately answer, but Davos already knew the truth. These elders had been subtly working against his rise for years; they admired his martial talent while simultaneously fearing what he might become if he consolidated complete authority over the clan. They wanted the Maqaue clan to prosper, but they didn’t necessarily want Davos standing alone at its peak.

Now, they were sending him into a dungeon where historical precedent guaranteed his death.

Still... Davos’s eyes narrowed as a single thought echoed in his mind: *The Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil.*

That was the real game. If Davos died during the expedition, the elders could claim before the public that they had sacrificed their finest young Demi-God to revive their ancient ancestor. If the ritual somehow succeeded, the clan would gain a living angel. Either way, the political leadership benefited.

Davos chuckled quietly to himself. The information they gave him wasn’t an olive branch—it was insurance. If the Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil awakened and discovered that the clan had deliberately sent Davos into an unexplainable death trap, the elders needed to be able to claim they had given him every scrap of knowledge to prepare him. They were simply covering their own tracks.

"It’s fine," Davos said as he stood up from the table. "You can all leave now."

The elders looked at him for several seconds in silence. Davos offered no further words, simply waving his hand to terminate the link. Their projected bodies began disappearing one after another until only the red-haired elder remained.

"Good luck, Half-Grace," the elder murmured before fading entirely.

Davos didn’t answer. Once the projections were gone, he turned his gaze down toward the valley below.

The massive sand worm had already been reduced to a carcass. Ethan stood nearby with his dark sword lowered, while the surrounding Maqaue warriors stared at him with deeply complicated expressions.

Davos watched the human for several long seconds, then looked toward the dark, jagged depths of the dungeon. "We have to try," he whispered to the wind.

Beyond the mountain, deeper within the dungeon, the landscape changed dramatically.

Several enormous skulls protruded from the scorched earth—skulls so massive that entire residential buildings could have been constructed inside their empty eye sockets. Over countless centuries, their bone structures had fused with the surrounding stone, forming bizarre geological arches that stretched toward the inner mountain range.

The deeper the expedition pushed, the older and more ancient everything felt. And somewhere beyond those ancient formations rested their ultimate objective: the Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil.

...

"To be granted an audience here is surely an honor."

Ethan sat comfortably atop the massive floating turtle, both hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea as he gently blew across its surface.

The journey deeper into the dungeon had transformed his position within the expedition considerably. At first, the Maqaue warriors had viewed him as nothing more than an unusually quiet human slave. Now, their glances were guarded and respectful. He had slain a Tier 6 beast effortlessly, fought alongside their frontline, and repeatedly demonstrated a level of combat efficiency that defied their understanding of human limits.

Even Davos had begun treating him differently.

Which had been Ethan’s intention from the start. Servos was useful for navigation and basic background details, but the old warrior lacked the raw power and political clearance Ethan needed to complete his true objectives inside Demi-human territory.

Davos was different—he was a newly ascended Demi-God, possessed a rare class, and was currently heading straight toward a event Ethan needed to exploit.

Sitting opposite Ethan on the turtle’s back, Davos offered a surprisingly humble smile. "That is normal, but I must remain humble." His eyes settled on Ethan. "Because you’re actually the person who will be helping me."

Several of the nearby Maqaue unit leaders shifted uncomfortably. To them, Ethan was still technically a human retainer, and while his martial strength was undeniable, watching their Demi-God treat him as a peer made their pride sting.

Ethan noticed their stiff postures, but he paid them no mind as he took another slow sip of tea. "Oh? How exactly will I be helping you?"

Davos’s expression turned completely serious. "I have approximately four Tier 6 warriors left under my direct command." He gestured toward the senior squad leaders stationed around the mount. "With you... and your summons... that number effectively doubles."

Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly.

Davos continued, a faint, resolute smile touching his lips. "I need every ounce of combat power I can gather."

"Why?" Ethan asked. "What are we about to face?"

Davos set his own cup down, his expression hardening into absolute gravity. "We’re going to try to capture a Demi-God beast."

The declaration instantly silenced the surrounding wind. Even the Maqaue chiefs stopped their murmuring, their gazes locking onto Davos in solemn realization.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he absorbed the weight of those words.

A Demi-God beast.

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