I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

Looking around, Ethan noticed that the area in front of them was largely empty, with only a few people scattered across the massive viewing grounds.

It was a strange sight.

For an event as monumental as the Bastion’s annual selection, he had expected thousands of spectators gathered in roaring stands, dissecting every candidate who managed to complete the Under Mountain challenge.

Instead, most of the carved stone tiers were completely vacant.

Ethan’s gaze swept across the pavilion for several seconds before he finally spotted two familiar figures waiting near the edge of the terrace.

Ulric.

And the Prince of Bark, Tywin Martel.

"First to make it. Very impressive," Ulric greeted them with his trademark lazy warmth as the party of four approached the Dawn Faction’s staging camp.

As an Angel serving directly under the Mad God Karth and the undisputed First Warrior of the Dawn Faction, Ulric held a unique, untouchable standing within the citadel. Even among the high elders and garrison commanders standing nearby, his presence commanded immediate deference.

"Thank you," Ethan replied with a brief nod, his eyes continuing to scan the surprisingly quiet plaza.

Then, his gaze caught a colossal projection suspended high above the central battlements.

A massive arcane screen floated against the cloudless sky, its runic perimeter projecting a live, crystal-clear feed large enough for the entire mountain range to witness.

Ethan studied the shimmering image for a few silent seconds before a faint, knowing sigh escaped him.

"Everyone’s watching him, huh?"

On the screen, a lone figure cloaked in raging crimson fire was carving through endless waves of subterranean abominations.

Ni’an.

The Son of Nezha.

That explained the complete absence of fanfare on the summit. The Bastion’s lords, elders, and garrison troops weren’t ignoring the new candidates out of spite; their attention had simply been hijacked by an authentic divine spectacle unfolding beneath the mountain.

It wasn’t every day that a rogue Angel voluntarily plunged into the abyssal depths of the Under Mountain to wage a solo war of attrition. For the vast majority of cultivators, watching a divine combatant dismantle ancient horrors was a once-in-a-lifetime masterclass.

Naturally, the mortal selection had been reduced to a secondary sideshow.

"Ni’an is a special character," Ulric chuckled softly, tilting his head back to watch the blazing display on the screen. "He has quite the storied history with our folks here in the Bastion."

Ethan kept his eyes glued to the celestial feed. Ni’an was completely encircled by grotesque demon spawn, yet not a single abomination could breach his perimeter. The instant a clawed limb lunged from the gloom, blinding flames detonated outward, turning the creature to ash before it could shriek.

"Ni’an?" Ethan murmured, catching the name. "That’s his true name?"

"Yes," Ulric nodded, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "His father was a core patriarch of the Bastion centuries ago, while his mother hailed from the sacred bloodlines of Divine Beast Mountain."

Ethan’s expression sharpened. The pieces of the puzzle were finally clicking together.

"There was a bitter, bloody custody dispute over the boy that dragged on for nearly a century," Ulric continued, the amusement fading from his tone. "A dispute that ultimately concluded with his assassination."

Ethan frowned. "His death?"

"Indeed," Tywin Martel interjected, stepping up beside them with cold, calculated stillness. "The Divine Beast Mountain spent centuries manufacturing elaborate lies to justify why he was hunted down like a feral beast."

The prince’s eyes narrowed with venomous clarity. "But we always knew the ground truth."

They all knew.

The sovereign beast clans hadn’t pursued Ni’an to bring an errant child home. They had deployed their apex executioners to extinguish his soul permanently because a hybrid entity possessing both human ingenuity and primordial beast divinity was an existential threat to their supremacy.

"They knew exactly what kind of monster he would mature into," Ulric added quietly. "And those greedy dragons would never tolerate a power like that existing beyond their leash."

Ethan returned his focus to the hovering screen.

The feed shifted to a deeper cavern stratum. Ni’an stood at the center of a scorched, molten plateau, his aura flaring like a miniature sun as the surrounding horrors grew exponentially denser and more grotesque.

"Flames of Origin..."

Ni’an’s voice resonated through the sky projection, cold and absolute.

"Wheel of Fire!"

Two colossal, interlocking chakrams of primordial white-gold flame materialized behind his back. Rotating with deafening acoustic shrieks, they compressed the surrounding air before launching forward like twin meteors.

*BOOM!*

The fiery wheels ripped through the horde in parallel lines of pure destruction. Demon spawn weren’t merely sliced; they ignited from within, their marrow and organs vaporizing as the fire rapidly propagated across the subterranean floor. The bedrock itself melted into bubbling rivers of slag.

"Legends say that at the dawn of the primordial era, when the ancient calamity first broke through the world’s crust..." Ulric’s voice carried a rare reverence as he watched the white-gold inferno. "...it was this exact flame that held the line."

Ethan listened intently, absorbing every word.

"Ni’an is the living incarnation of that primordial flame," Ulric explained. "Wherever he steps, the dark burns away. Wherever the demon corruption festers, his fire pursues it to the root."

On the screen, Ni’an descended into the lowest trenches. The hordes surging toward him were no longer base aberrations—their scales gleamed with divine ichor, their frames dwarfed siege engines, and their ambient pressure warped the broadcast.

The weakest among the new vanguard were authentic Demi-gods.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "Demi-god demon spawn."

"Precisely," Ulric confirmed.

Ni’an was now standing alone against a legion of horrors, yet his manic grin remained firmly in place. He advanced with steady, rhythmic strides, raising a single open palm as a tidal wave of superheated plasma erupted from his fingertips, completely submerging the cavern in blinding white light.

"He’s about to trigger the awakening of the newly formed Angel," Tywin remarked calmly, his arms folded across his chest. "Watch closely."

Ethan turned his head sharply. "An Angel? Beneath the mountain?"

He had assumed the legendary demon had been permanently neutralized during the founding era, leaving only residual vermin behind. If an authentic Angel-tier abomination was gestating in the core, the history taught across the human kingdoms was a sanitized lie.

"Yes," Tywin nodded, utterly unbothered. "There are currently five dormant Angel-tier horrors anchored in the abyss."

Ethan stared at him. "Five?"

"The Bastion organizes high-tier purge squads to execute several of them every year," Tywin explained as casually as if discussing routine harvest rotations. "Yet like clockwork, another usually re-manifests from the corruption every few seasons."

"You make slaughtering Angels sound like standard maintenance," Ethan remarked, his brow twitching.

"It *is* standard maintenance," Tywin replied with a dry shrug.

Over centuries of warfare, the Under Mountain had evolved from an existential terror into an industrialized hazard the Bastion managed through sheer force. Whenever a divine abomination condensed, supreme elders were dispatched to erase it before it breached the surface.

Ni’an, however, represented an entirely different paradigm.

"His primordial fire carries a unique conceptual property," Ulric said, tapping the ash from his cigarette. "It burns past the physical vessel, permanently annihilating the soul matrix and spiritual blueprint of the corruption."

Ethan understood immediately.

The spawn could multiply endlessly, and the abyssal Angels could reconstitute their forms from the subterranean miasma. But if Ni’an’s fire erased their foundational blueprints, he was no mere exterminator.

He was a permanent cure.

On the screen, the cataclysmic battle reached its boiling point. Explosions shuddered through the broadcast as Ni’an clashed directly with the towering silhouette of an awakening subterranean Angel, turning the subterranean horizon into an ocean of fire.

"He’ll wrap that up eventually," Ulric smiled, turning his back on the projection. "No need to stand around watching that hoodlum show off. Let’s head to the House of Dawn, kids."

Ulric gestured for Ethan, Ella, Hela, and Meng to follow.

The surrounding proctors and spectators didn’t even notice their departure, entirely entranced by the divine war raging on the sky screen. Tywin remained behind on the observation deck, having already completed his formal induction months prior.

Ethan fell into step behind Ulric, offering one final glance over his shoulder at the screen before facing forward.

He had ascended the mountain seeking the apex of human martial prowess, but the reality was far more profound: the Bastion was not just a training ground—it was a cage built atop ancient, unresolved primordial secrets.

Leaving the central military complex behind, Ulric guided them through an imposing archway into the sovereign district of the Dawn Faction.

The architecture here shifted dramatically. Unlike the utilitarian, fortified monoliths of the Vanguard and Pureblood sectors, the Dawn compounds were built with striking, razor-sharp symmetry. Massive triangular spires carved from pale, iridescent stone climbed toward the sky, humming with refined spatial arrays.

"So this is the Dawn Faction’s private domain?" Ethan asked, surveying the pristine boulevards.

"More or less," Ulric replied casually, leading them toward a grand, triangular manor at the center of the plaza.

Coming to a halt before the massive bronze doors, Ulric pushed them open with a single hand.

"Try not to judge them too harshly," Ulric chuckled, stepping across the threshold. "Most of our senior members are hopelessly drunk by this hour."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Drunk?"

Ulric glanced back over his shoulder, a mysterious, calculating smile spreading across his face.

"Come inside. There’s someone very important waiting to meet you."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!