Starting With an SSS-Rank Goddess Summon!

Chapter 419: Time In The Barracks [Bonus Chapter]

The heat radiating from the massive crucibles of the Warlord Foundry pushed against Silas’s face in sweltering waves, but his focus remained anchored on the yellowed parchment held within Thora’s calloused leather-clad hands.

Silas leaned forward, his blue eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the intricate, illuminated artwork.

"Aurelia El Mimonte..." Silas murmured, testing the foreign syllables upon his tongue. "I’ve never heard of that name in any of the Valoria Academy archives or the modern codexes."

He glanced up from the ancient dragon-hide tome, meeting the dwarven blacksmith’s earnest gaze.

"How did the betrayal even happen in the first place, Thora? If she was the supreme high-priestess of an entire celestial sanctum, how did pantheons manage to bypass her wards and drag her into the ether or however?"

Thora let out a dry exasperated breath, shaking her braided head as she tapped the edge of the parchment with a stubby, soot-stained finger.

"The book doesn’t give many details on the exact collapse, Lord Graves," Thora explained in a serious voice. "The records from that era are fragmented but from what little text survived the burning of the Great Archives or whatever the book calls it, it says an inner sect elder poisoned the sacred flame with corruption, breaking the temple’s dimensional barrier from the inside. When the deities breached the sanctum, she chose to seal herself within the Argent Flame rather than let her divine spark be harvested for her core."

Silas nodded slowly, running a hand through his dark hair as he absorbed the historical weight behind the illustration.

"I can try," Silas replied with an easy self-deprecating shrug with a smirk playing on his lips. "Though it’s not like I have a personalized menu when I activate the Archway. Summoning isn’t an exact science, Thora..."

At least, that was what Silas genuinely believed based on his limited experience.

When he had stepped before the Archway to summon Eluned, he hadn’t known her true name or divine lineage... his core had simply burned with the desperate intent to summon an entity with absolute, overwhelming power to stabilize his barren territory.

When he had summoned Morwenna, his thoughts had been locked on finding a master-class frontline blade-wielder capable of carving through abyssal horrors, having zero clue that the spatial currents would drag a foul-mouthed alcohol-drinking Astral Dread Queen through the rift.

In truth, Silas had originally entertained thoughts of calling upon an elemental Ice Goddess to balance out the searing draconic heat and abyssal flames already dominating his ranks.

But looking down at the tragic, tear-stained face of the Saintess captured in the illuminated manuscript, a strange undeniable tug resonated deep within his Gold Core.

"I’ll keep her in mind when I want to summon," Silas assured her, offering Thora a warm, confident smile. "If her soul is adrift in the ether, maybe our domain’s frequency can pull her through."

"That’s all I ask, Lord Silas," Thora beamed, carefully closing the heavy dragon-hide tome and hugging it against her leather apron.

Silas turned his attention toward the rest of the foundry floor, where the dozen female dwarven smiths had paused their hammering, watching him with eager soot-smeared expressions.

"Listen up, everyone!" Silas projected his voice across the cavernous stone hall, his tone commanding yet deeply appreciative. "You’re doing incredible work here... The weapons, the plating, the infrastructure you’re building with this new Void-Titanium is going to be one of the backbones of our entire domain. Keep your rhythm steady, don’t rush the quenching cycles, and make sure every single blade that leaves these anvils is sharp enough to cut through a dragon’s hide. When we expand the perimeter, your craftsmanship will keep our sisters alive!"

The dwarven smiths erupted into a unified, thunderous cheer, pumping their heavy iron sledges into the air with triumphant roars.

"FOR THE LORD!"

"WE’LL FORGE WALLS THAT CAN’T BE BROKEN!"

Thora laughed loudly at the uproar, stepping forward and boldly blowing Silas an exaggerated kiss across the glowing coals.

"You heard the boss!" Thora barked at her crew, turning back to the anvils with renewed vigor. "Back to the bellows, ladies! We’ve got eight tons of meteor metal to shape before the stars shift!"

Silas chuckled warmly, shaking his head as he stepped through the heavy reinforced iron doors of the foundry, leaving the blistering heat behind and emerging back into the crisp courtyard of the Blessed Land.

’It’s good to see Thora finally having competent hands to share the load,’ Silas thought, taking a deep, refreshing breath of the open air. ’Now that the metal is delivered, I’ve got some free time before going to summon..’

His thoughts naturally drifted toward the military sector.

’I should head over to the barracks and see how the integrated recruits are settling in. After everything they went through on the battlefield during the war, I need to make sure their morale isn’t slipping...’

Silas turned his boots toward the southern sector of the compound, strolling leisurely across the paved walkways that separated the industrial zone from the residential fortress.

The Barracks were soon in view and they looked as beautiful as ever, Silas was really proud of himself.

As Silas pushed open the heavy double oak doors of the barracks, the loud clash of ringing steel and high-pitched female cheers instantly washed over his senses.

"Drive her back! Don’t give her the center line!"

"Watch the footwork! She’s baiting your low sweep!"

Inside the central training ring, a furious high-speed sparring match was underway.

Lupina... the silver-haired wolf-kin demi-human was a whirlwind of gray motion.

Her silver wolf ears were pinned flat against her skull in razor-sharp focus, her bushy silver tail flicking aggressively behind her leather-clad hips for balance.

She held a runic training spear with an iron-tight, white-knuckled grip, shifting her weight fluidly between all fours and an upright stance as she aggressively pressed the attack against Hieck, one of the other recruits.

CLANG!

Lupina vaulted forward in a sudden burst of raw, beast-kin agility, crossing spears with Hieck with such ferocious force that a visible shockwave of displaced air rippled across the sand, kicking up a fine dust cloud.

The surrounding crowd of female recruits and seasoned warriors leaned over the wooden railing, screaming encouragement and banging their practice bucklers.

Suddenly, one of the recruits near the entrance caught sight of the tall, dark-robed figure standing in the doorway.

"Lord Graves is here!" the girl shouted in surprise.

The entire sparring ring instantly froze.

The cheering died down in a heartbeat as dozens of heads snapped toward the entrance.

Hieick’s guard faltered slightly with her stance widening as she reflexively prepared to snap to attention.

’If I can impress Lord Graves right now...’ Hieck thought, her heart racing as she adjusted her grip. ’If he sees that my defensive spear-arts can hold off an agile beast-kin Hero, he might assign me to the primary vanguard!’

Lupina, however, did not drop her guard.

The moment the silver-haired wolf-girl saw Silas standing by the doorway, waving casually with a relaxed friendly smile, a violent desperate spark flared within her golden-amber eyes.

Her whole life in the military had been an agonizing cycle of feeling weak, feeling inadequate, and being knocked into the dirt while others carried the glory.

The crushing humiliation of being flattened during the Lord war and even before that... it all burned inside her chest like liquid fire.

She didn’t want Silas’s polite pity. Lupina wanted to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t some terrified useless stray who needed protection.

"HAAAAAH!"

With a savage beast-like roar, Lupina’s speed multiplied tenfold.

A burst of feral wind mana exploded from beneath her leather boots. In the blink of an eye, she closed the distance, her spear blurring into a silver arc of terrifying momentum.

Hieck’s eyes went wide as the veteran desperately tried to bring her buckler up to parry, but the attack was moving at a different conceptual tier.

CRACK!

Lupina’s spear struck the center of Hieck’s defense, cleanly cleaving the reinforced wooden practice shield in half and shattering the outer clasp of her chest armor.

The sheer concussive force lifted Hieck off her feet, sending the warrior flying backward five yards through the air before she landed with a heavy sliding thud in the soft sand.

Lupina stood over the fallen warrior with her chest heaving as the tip of her practice spear pointed steadily at Hieck’s throat.

"You’re weak," Lupina growled out with sharp ferocity. "Your center of gravity dropped the moment your focus split. On a real battlefield, that mistake costs your life."

A tense breathless silence gripped the arena for two full seconds before the surrounding recruits exploded into wild, roaring applause.

"Incredible speed!"

"Did you see that low-angle burst?!"

Lupina lowered her spear, exhaling a hot, panting breath but as the adrenaline faded and the reality of the room set in, her sharp ears suddenly drooped.

She turned her head, looking over at Silas.

Her bushy silver tail, which had been standing tall and aggressive moments ago, completely fell, tucking itself nervously against the back of her thighs.

Her wolf ears folded backward in sudden agonizing anxiety.

’Did I overdo it...?’ Lupina panicked internally, her fingers trembling against the spear shaft. ’Did I look like a bloodthirsty monster in front of the Lord? Is he going to scold me for breaking armor during a friendly drill?!’

Silas didn’t scold her.

He walked across the sand, clapping his hands together with a genuine approving smile.

"That was fantastic, Lupina," Silas commended warmly, his blue eyes meeting hers with sincerity. "Your acceleration from a dead stop is unbelievable, and your target acquisition didn’t waver for a millisecond. That was high-level combat instincts..."

Lupina’s breath hitched.

The moment the words registered in her ears, her folded wolf ears violently popped back upright.

Her tucked silver tail shot straight up, wagging left and right with frantic, joyful, blur-like speed that betrayed every ounce of her tough-warrior persona.

"T-Thank you, my Lord!" Lupina stammered, her pale face flushing a violent shade of red.

Overwhelmed by the praise and utterly terrified of letting her tail-wagging betray how desperately happy she was, she shoved her practice spear into a nearby weapon rack, spun on her heel, and bolted toward the back of the barracks at full sprint.

Silas chuckled softly, watching her run off before turning toward the observation deck near the ring.

Standing together by the weapon racks were Gunnhild and Brida.

The two senior commanders were overseeing the training rotation, but Silas’s attention was immediately drawn to Gunnhild.

The woman was completely soaking wet, droplets of water glistening along her exposed collarbones and damp blonde hair, her skin radiating a fragrant cloud of lavender-infused alchemical soap.

Silas blinked with an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

’Did she really spend the last two hours scrubbing herself raw in the bathhouse just because I made a joke about monster blood...?’ Silas thought, he appreciated the effort though.

Silas stepped up to the railing, addressing the gathered crowd of recruits and veteran soldiers.

"At ease, everyone," Silas called out. "You’ve all been working hard today. How are the new quarters treating you? How are you settling into the Blessed Land?"

A chorus of enthusiastic eager voices echoed back from the ranks.

"It’s incredible, Lord Graves!"

"The food from Lady Kaelia is unbelievable... we actually have mana-rich meat for every single meal!"

"The barracks beds are so soft, and the defensive arrays make us feel completely safe!"

"We love it here, my Lord!"

Silas nodded, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction warm his chest.

"I’m glad to hear that. You’re all part of this territory now. Train hard, eat well, and know that you will always have my full support."

As the crowd dispersed to resume their physical conditioning drills, Silas’s gaze naturally drifted toward the far corner of the sparring hall.

Sitting alone on a wooden bench, away from the loud chatter of the main group, was Morrighan.

The Demonic Caster Hero was a striking imposing presence as usual.

Her tall, slender frame was clad in the mythril-reinforced uniform of the Blessed Land recruits, her long flowing crimson hair contrasting starkly against her pale, ashen skin.

Two polished, obsidian-black horns curved gracefully from her temples, and her long spade-tipped demon tail was wrapped quietly around the legs of the wooden bench as her molten-gold eyes were fixed quietly on her own hands.

Silas’s brow furrowed with a twinge of guilt.

’Damn...’ Silas thought. ’I remember Sky mentioning how much discrimination she faced in their old army because of her demonic aura. I should have made sure she was fully integrated with the others. I shouldn’t have let her isolate herself—’

Before Silas could finish his thought, one of the younger human recruits walked past the bench and playfully bumped Morrighan with her hip.

"Hey, look, Mori!" the girl giggled, pointing toward Silas. "Lord Graves is staring right at you! Go say hi!"

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