I Can Summon Legendary Figuress

A week after taking the Thousand Beast Citadel, the Dawn faction had already begun making sweeping structural changes.

More men had been sent over from the Bastion, arriving alongside specialized administrative officers, high-tech operations personnel, and an elite engineering cohort. Most crucially, a seasoned Demi-god had been permanently stationed on the ramparts, an anchor whose passive presence alone was enough to make the garrison feel considerably safer.

Despite all of this, Ethen was still formally named warden of the citadel.

It was an appointment that surprised quite a few people within the regional command chain.

After all, there were older, deeply connected members of the Dawn faction now quartered within the stronghold’s stone halls. Some had served the Bastion for decades, while others had spent their entire lives managing border territories, logistics networks, and complex military organizations.

Yet the primary authority remained firmly in Ethen’s hands.

He was the vanguard who had broken the Ascendant defense and taken the citadel.

And for now, he was the sole figure responsible for its standing.

"Good morning, sir."

"The scouts report the left slope is relatively safe today, Warden."

"Good morning to you, sir, and to the madams."

Ethen received greeting after greeting as he strolled along the citadel’s outer balconies alongside Hela and Ella.

It had already become an unbroken morning routine for the three of them to walk the high circuits.

Part of it was to bolster operational morale among the mixed regiments.

The soldiers and contractors stationed at the Thousand Beast Citadel needed to see their warden in the flesh. It was one thing to receive strategic directives through an official administrative dispatch, but it was another to watch the young monster responsible for the territory casually walking among them.

The other reason was purely for his own quiet leisure.

Ethen genuinely enjoyed walking the ramparts before the midday operations began.

After everything he had experienced since arriving in this world, having a fortified perimeter where he could wander without immediately preparing for a mortal ambush was a rare luxury.

The trio continued past the weapon emplacements until they reached a heavy magic array elevator.

The platform was built directly into the jagged basalt of the mountain, framed by steel tracks that stretched steeply downward toward the valley floor.

Once all three stepped onto the etched copper platform, the primary array activated with a soft chime.

A pale, humming light spread beneath their boots.

Then the platform smoothly dropped, beginning its rapid descent along the cliff.

The further down they traveled, the more the surrounding scenery peeled away into raw wilderness.

The towering spires, runic parapets, and heavy siege batteries of the citadel gradually receded into the mist above, replaced by vast stretches of open, undulating flatlands.

Eventually, the elevator reached the base anchors and locked into place.

Ethen stepped off the metal grate and cast his gaze across the horizon.

The untamed flatland seemed to stretch on into eternity beneath the dim sky.

The Thousand Beast Citadel had earned its grand title for a very clear reason.

It was situated within one of the most biodiverse, primeval wilderness pockets under human oversight in the Nether Realm.

Wild beasts of countless variations constantly roamed the rolling steppe and the thorn-ridden crags.

Some predators traveled entirely alone, carving out massive solitary hunting grounds.

Others moved in dense, coordinated packs that kicked up dust storms across the plains.

Some could be tracked moving in massive herds across the earth, while aerial terrors drifted on the upper thermals like dark kites.

There were creatures whose lineages Ethen recognized from old field bestiaries, alongside bizarre, mutated abominations he had never encountered in the mortal kingdoms.

This abundance was exceptionally valuable for cultivators seeking rare catalytic components or fulfilling evolution requirements.

For ambitious warriors, the Thousand Beast Citadel was far more than an administrative fortress.

It was an open, lucrative hunting ground.

A Tier 5 warrior might journey here specifically hunting the crystallized core of a thunder-horned gazelle.

A high-tier summoner might require three jars of fresh basilisk blood to complete a summoning circle.

Another specialist might need the intact hide of an ancient burrower for a vital breakthrough ritual.

With such a bizarre density of fauna surviving here, the developmental possibilities were practically limitless.

To capitalize on that reality, the Dawn faction had established a steep entry tariff, charging outsiders and Bastion members alike.

They had monetized the local ecology within forty-eight hours of driving the Ascendants out.

"Good morning, Warden."

A mounted patrol unit trotted along the perimeter path, the squad leader raising a fist in salute.

The riders eased their mounts to a halt, approaching with visible caution and tightly checked reins.

They had watched Ethen systematically dismantle Grag Axe Cleaver in the open courtyard without breaking a sweat.

They had also heard the whispers of what transpired immediately after, when Ethen casually sent a lethal verbal summons to Eren, the Blazing Star.

The common consensus among the rank-and-file was that their new warden was utterly unhinged.

Yet nobody could deny his lethal competence.

That volatile combination was more than enough to keep the garrison on their absolute best behavior.

"Do you know where Adam wandered off to?"

Ethen asked, looking up at the patrol leader sitting atop a heavily armored steed.

"Oh, him?"

The patrol leader paused, an odd, strained look crossing his weathered face.

"I saw him a few hours ago toward the eastern hollows. He shouldn’t have moved too far from the salt lick. Allow me to escort you, Warden."

The rider managed a stiff, professional smile, though he couldn’t entirely mask the deep confusion and burning curiosity in his eyes.

Adam was officially registered as one of Ethen’s personal summons.

Yet he was an unearthly man who strolled through lethal monster dens without weapons, armor, or clothing.

He possessed the baffling authority to soothe feral abominations with a word, sitting in complete harmony among bloodthirsty predators.

That alone was enough to disturb the seasoned border guards.

But the oddities didn’t stop with simple beast-taming.

Adam frequently vanished for days at a time, wandering dozens of leagues from Ethen’s location without suffering the slightest strain on his summon tether.

The scouting patrols had grown increasingly wary of his solitary movements.

Several scouts swore they had witnessed the naked man sitting in high meadows, speaking fluent, melodic human speech to creatures that lacked vocal cords.

Nobody in the garrison understood what the entity was truly doing out there.

And Ethen had never felt the slightest obligation to enlighten them.

"Lead the way," Ethen said, nodding as he followed the riders into the tall brush.

The patrol maintained an even, rhythmic pace, the captain occasionally glancing over his shoulder toward Ethen.

The soldier clearly wanted to pry into the bizarre summon’s origins.

Yet every time their eyes met, the man’s throat tightened and he immediately snapped his gaze forward.

Eventually, after traversing several miles through the dense, iron-leafed shrubbery, the scout reined in his horse.

"Right over there, sir."

The captain pointed his spear toward a wide depression between two barren hills.

Ethen tracked the line of the weapon.

Lazing in the center of the clearing stood a colossal, shaggy beast resembling a four-horned mountain yak.

Lounging comfortably across its broad spine was Adam.

"Hm?"

Adam was casually biting into what appeared to be a crisp, crimson orchard fruit.

The moment his teeth broke the skin, a visible ripple of concentrated vitality surged into his throat, making his golden hair shimmer faintly.

He looked as though he were lounging in an imperial garden on a spring afternoon.

When his peripheral vision caught the approaching horses, Adam merely tilted his head once before returning to his snack.

"You’re becoming entirely too relaxed out here, don’t you think?"

Ethen remarked, waving a hand to dismiss the mounted escort.

"Perhaps," Adam replied, sitting upright with an easy, unhurried grace.

The patrol captain wheeled his horse around and departed without another word, eager to be away from the strange pair.

Once the sound of hooves faded completely, Ethen’s dark eyes swept across the immediate perimeter.

His spatial perception caught a subtle, localized distortion in the mana flow.

Like a brittle sheet of glass shattering, the optical illusion unraveling around the clearing collapsed in an instant.

The tranquil, pastoral scenery around the grazing yak abruptly vanished.

The pristine, emerald grass was gone.

Littered across the bloodstained earth were the mangled carcasses of nearly a dozen massive apex predators.

The corpses had been torn open with surgical violence, their flesh still smoking from fresh elemental trauma.

And the pleasant red apple in Adam’s right hand was no fruit at all—it was a jagged, pulsating Tier 5 beast core.

Adam possessed the absolute authority to command beasts by declaring their primordial names.

It was an innate absolute authority that made him practically a god in a wilderness such as this.

Yet nature always cultivated mutated anomalies and alien horrors.

Not every abyssal entity roaming the Nether Realm could be effortlessly bent to his knee on sight.

And whenever a beast proved deaf to his sovereignty, Adam simply crushed its skull and consumed its crystallized heart to temper his Perfect Body.

Ethen stared at the carnage for a long moment before turning back to Adam.

"You need to accelerate your progress."

Adam swallowed the final fragment of the glowing core, offering no verbal defense.

"He will be arriving any day now," Ethen said, a heavy sigh escaping his chest.

The fundamental reason Adam had been unleashed into these hunting grounds was simple: his evolution trial.

To fulfill the trial and withstand the unmitigated, full-force strike of an authentic deity, Adam required an unfathomable ocean of kinetic and physical durability.

The passive authority of *Perfect Body* was terrifying, but its defensive scaling was directly tied to the total reservoir of energy he stored within his flesh.

The more cataclysmic the strike he needed to absorb, the denser his physical foundation had to become beforehand.

And frankly?

Standard Tier 5 cores were no longer providing the necessary nutritional yield.

Ethen’s eyes drifted toward a massive, reptilian hound lying in the dirt near the yak’s hooves.

The tamed beast was alive, but its reinforced scales had been melted away, revealing charred bone and weeping burns.

Ethen walked over to the wounded creature, crouching low to inspect the distinct chemical residue on the wound.

"This was done by a Demi-god beast, wasn’t it?"

He asked, glancing over his shoulder toward Adam.

Adam offered a single, firm nod.

Ethen’s jaw set, his expression growing considerably colder.

So that was where the higher-density energy traces clinging to Adam’s meridians had originated.

Adam was no longer satisfied with culling ordinary Tier 5 alpha monsters.

He had begun deliberately tracking down the sovereign anomalies lurking in the deepest, uncharted crevices of the flatlands.

The glaring issue was that Demi-god entities possessed conceptual domains of their own.

If Adam pushed too deep and triggered an ambush without Ethen’s support, an irreversible catastrophe could unfold in an instant.

"You have to exercise far more caution," Ethen warned, rising to his full height.

"Do not engage a Demi-god tier target alone while I am detained at the citadel."

Adam remained seated upon the yak, his golden eyes deep and unreadable.

Ethen looked past the hills toward the sprawling, untamed horizon of the Nether Realm.

The Thousand Beast Citadel was vast and brimming with treasures.

There was abundant prey here, ancient vaults to crack, and limitless fuel to push their foundations higher.

Yet none of that masked the brutal reality of their current standing.

He was inside the Bastion now.

And the Bastion was not a playground where past glories carried any weight.

Tier 5 was merely the entry ticket here—the absolute bottom of the food chain.

There were sovereign Demi-gods overseeing every routine patrol.

There were living Angels directing factional warfare.

There were generational prodigies like Eren capable of sundering battlefields.

And hovering above them all were the inscrutable ancient founders deciding the ultimate fate of mankind.

Ethen had only just carved out his very first foothold in this higher world.

He had zero intention of remaining at the mercy of stronger factions.

He needed absolute power.

And he needed it immediately.

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