I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

"Hehe... monkeys."

Standing at the top of the mountain, the Son of Nezha looked down at the remaining Maqaue clansmen floating uneasily in the air. His expression carried a strange mixture of amusement and contempt.

There were only a handful of them left. The Maqaue expedition had entered the dungeon with hundreds of warriors, yet after everything that had happened, barely fifty had survived to reach this mountain.

Now even those survivors were no longer certain they would leave alive.

The Son of Nezha slowly swept his gaze across them. He knew exactly who they were: descendants of the Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil, the very being whose body he had implanted himself inside thousands of years ago.

In fact, this wasn’t the first time these Demi-humans had attempted to awaken their ancestor. They had performed similar rituals several times over the past century, each time succeeding in bringing forth a fragment of the ancient existence.

Each time, however, the Son of Nezha had remained dormant. He simply hadn’t possessed enough power to completely take control.

The Twelve-Eared Maqaue Devil was an ancient Angel—even in its weakened state, its existence was extraordinary. Trying to seize control of such a being without sufficient strength would have been nothing short of suicide.

So the Son of Nezha had waited. He had endured, slowly accumulating his strength while remaining hidden inside the ancient body.

And now... everything had finally fallen into place. Thanks to Ethan, and thanks to Bark, the opportunity he had been waiting for had arrived.

His gaze moved toward Davos.

The Demi-god stood several meters away, his body tense and his weapon still firmly in his grasp. Unlike the others, Davos wasn’t trembling or begging; his eyes were filled with unyielding fury.

The Son of Nezha smiled. "Little Demi-god."

His voice was relaxed. "Accept my slave mark and swear fealty to me. And I’ll let you go."

The words were delivered almost casually, as though he were offering Davos a generous deal.

Aside from Ethan, there were only three other Tier 6 Demi-humans remaining, and then there was Davos—a Demi-god.

To an ordinary mortal, that distinction would have been enormous. To an Angel, mortals were barely worth mentioning, but a Demi-god possessed enough power to actually become useful. The Son of Nezha wasn’t going to waste such an asset.

Davos stared at him in heavy silence for several seconds before spitting onto the stone.

"Eat shit."

The surrounding Maqaue clansmen immediately stiffened, while Ethan’s eyebrows rose slightly.

Davos really hadn’t learned when to keep his mouth shut, but perhaps that was precisely who he was. He had climbed from the bottom to become a Demi-god through his own strength, fighting alongside his people, leading armies, and surviving countless battles.

He had even been sent into this dungeon knowing full well the mission was designed to kill him, yet he had still come. There was zero chance he would willingly bow as a slave.

The Son of Nezha tilted his head. "I should what?"

His smile slowly widened. "You have a sharp mouth, child."

The flames around his body suddenly intensified. "I’ll show you what shit tastes like."

*BOOM!*

Flames erupted as Davos’s entire body was engulfed in blazing fire.

"AHHHHH!"

His scream tore across the mountain. The flames didn’t simply burn his clothes—they penetrated, crawling across his skin and scorching his flesh with terrifying ease.

Davos immediately attempted to resist, his Demi-god power surging through his meridians. But it was completely useless against the flames of an Angel, and his body shook violently as he collapsed to one knee.

"AHHH!"

The three remaining Tier 6 Maqaue clansmen recoiled, their faces turning deathly pale.

They had known the Son of Nezha was powerful, but seeing it was completely different. This was a Demi-god—a being they had considered practically untouchable—and yet Davos couldn’t even mount a defense.

The three exchanged glances as raw fear spread through their eyes.

The Son of Nezha didn’t even look at them for long. "You three."

His voice returned to a deceptive calm while the flames around Davos continued to burn. "I have no need for you. Swear yourselves to the boy over there and accept his slave mark."

He pointed casually toward Ethan.

The three Maqaue froze, their gazes immediately turning toward Ethan—a human, technically a slave, yet an existence an Angel had personally acknowledged.

The situation was absurd. For generations, the Demi-human races had considered themselves inherently superior to humans in bloodline, body, and heritage.

But they weren’t stupid. Strength was absolute, and standing before an Angel, there was no room for pride.

The three slowly lowered their heads. "We submit."

Their voices were quiet, but clear.

Ethan watched them carefully as a faint smile appeared on his face.

*’Sly old man.’*

Ethan understood the calculation immediately. The spectacle with Davos hadn’t just been punishment—the Son of Nezha was making an example out of a Demi-god to terrify the three Tier 6 warriors into instant submission. The ancient entity was far sharper than his eccentric behavior let on.

The Son of Nezha turned away from the burning Demi-god, his expression instantly brightening. "Anyway, kid."

He looked toward Ethan. "Do you have the thing?"

Ethan nodded. "Sure."

Reaching into his storage space, Ethan pulled out a pair of metallic rings that looked completely ordinary and tossed them across the clearing.

The Son of Nezha caught them effortlessly, and the moment they touched his palm—

*BOOM!*

A surge of divine energy flooded the rings, and the metal expanded and warped before their eyes, weaving together into a massive, blazing carriage radiating an intense thermal aura.

The Son of Nezha’s eyes widened with manic delight. "My baby!"

He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around the carriage, rubbing against the metal like a parent reunited with a long-lost child after centuries apart.

Ethan stared in silence before slowly looking away. *’This person is completely unhinged.’*

One second he was roasting a Demi-god alive, and the next he was passionately hugging an ornate carriage.

After several moments, the Son of Nezha stepped back, gripped the carriage door handle, and turned toward Ethan with a twisted grin.

"Are you ready to cause mayhem?"

Ethan met his gaze, already guessing what was coming. He smiled faintly. "Sure."

The Son of Nezha pulled the door open, and the carriage immediately began to levitate. The four bound Demi-humans were dragged along with it, their bodies anchored as the burning vehicle ascended into the sky.

The surrounding air warped under extreme heat.

Then—

*BOOM!*

The carriage rocketed straight upward, tearing through the cloud cover with a thunderous sonic boom that shook the mountain peaks and rattled the dungeon’s foundations.

Ethan stood inside the open frame, gripping the railing as hurricane-force winds whipped past his face.

He glanced toward the blazing figure at the helm. "Where to?"

The Son of Nezha’s grin stretched wide, his burning eyes filled with bloodlust.

"To take back my shit..." He paused, his voice dropping into a growl. "...from those grubby thieves."

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