The Golden Lord has a perverted SSS-rank summoning system!

Ethan immediately caught the contempt and mockery dripping from Zael’s words.

In the midst of such a bloody battle, for a Lord to remain in that state—clean and immaculate—was the kind of sight that naturally stirred disgust in a man like Zael.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Ethan’s mouth, his gaze gliding over his own armor, a true masterpiece forged in the days of the mythical age.

Not a single drop of blood stained the gleaming metal, as if the plates themselves repelled all the grime of the battlefield.

His eyes rose once more to Zael, while his hand rested, calm and steady, on the ornate hilt of the God Slayer sword.

"Lord Zael, I’ve heard you’re a man averse to the death of ordinary citizens," Ethan said, his gaze slowly sweeping over the army positioned behind his opponent.

Forty thousand soldiers, most still hidden within the forest’s shadowy depths, only the glint of metallic silhouettes betraying their presence among the twisted trees.

Those positioned in the vanguard were the elite of the elite, and yet, their sturdy armor and perfectly sharpened swords—of which each of those lords took such pride—looked like disposable scrap metal in the face of the Goldenveil army’s arsenal.

"I’ve heard the same about you, young man. And the longer I look at your face, the more disappointed I become."

Zael declared.

"You can surrender now and die alone, sparing the mothers of each of these men, or you can let them fight to the death while you hide behind your wives’ skirts."

Zael’s gaze shifted to Evelyn, who stood beside Ethan, her entire body splattered with dried blood.

The golden armor sheathed every inch of her figure, leaving only her face exposed, her sharp features contrasting against the gleaming metal.

She merely let out a scornful grunt, leaning casually on the handle of her axe, whose blade still dripped with dark, viscous blood.

She made no effort whatsoever to hide the murderous intent radiating from her.

Ethan let out a low laugh and cleared the trench littered with the contorted bodies of goblins and kobolds in a single leap, his metal boots landing on the other side with a muffled thud.

Beside Zael, a dwarf lord let out a furious growl, his braided beard trembling along with the rage churning inside his broad chest.

"Why the hell are we standing here listening to that pretty-faced son of a bitch babble? Let’s move out! My men won’t wait another second!" the Dwarven Lord roared, swiveling his stocky frame toward the armored troops behind him.

Even those dwarves—blacksmiths by nature—wore armor inferior to that of the Goldenveil troops.

Zael tilted his head slightly, fixing the dwarf with an icy glare, and the stocky warrior shuddered on the spot.

He was brave, and he had been drinking the entire journey up to that point, but he was no fool. Zael was a fourth-stage warrior, and there was absolutely no benefit in provoking the wrath of a man like that.

Ethan refrained from making any racist remarks about the dwarf; after all, Goldenveil was a nation composed of humans, elves, and dwarves, as well as any other intelligent and nonviolent races.

He kept his focus on Zael, his lips parting in a calm smile. "It is not my desire to see the death of any dwarf, human, or elf today."

Ethan’s hand slid down to the hilt of his sword.

"Then let’s simplify things."

The God Slayer sword slipped from its sheath with a sharp whistle, its black blade etched with golden runes glinting in the sunlight as if answering its master’s call.

Ethan filled his lungs with air and, in a single instant, unleashed the Lord’s aura at its full power.

"I, Ethan Goldenveil, rightful ruler of Goldenveil, the Eternal Forest, and all who dwell therein, challenge you to a duel. If I lose, my troops will retreat. If you lose, you will bend the knee before me."

Ethan’s voice thundered across the battlefield, his figure bathed in an almost divine, incomparable majesty.

An overwhelming pressure crashed down upon the allied army; the soldiers’ legs visibly buckled as fragments of golden light danced through the air like sparks torn from a shattered sun.

Many of them nearly dropped to their knees, but they knew full well that kneeling there would be tantamount to begging for a summary execution at the hands of their own officers.

An entire army—forty thousand men under arms—shuddered in unison, each one fighting with all his might not to collapse to the ground.

"Enough!" Zael roared, and his voice barely managed to dispel some of the pressure bearing down on the army like an invisible storm.

"You’ve got some nice tricks, young man, but none of that will save your life!" Zael drew his own sword in one fluid motion, the blade whistling through the air. "You want to fight? Very well! I’ll show you your place in this world!"

He still couldn’t understand what would drive a mere third-stage youth to challenge someone like him—a proud fourth-stage specialist—but he hid that confusion well behind the cold mask of a commander.

The power gap between them was abysmal, regardless of all the confidence the young man displayed.

Ethan smiled and took a step forward, a gesture immediately mirrored by Zael. The two advanced until they were less than a hundred meters apart, their gazes locked in a silent standoff.

Ethan didn’t feel even a shred of fear stir in his chest.

On average, a warrior who had recently advanced to the fourth stage possessed between four and five thousand of each attribute point.

In theory, that made them, at most, five times stronger than third-stage experts, but there was a massive qualitative shift in their aura reserves and the amount they could manipulate.

Because of this, even a hundred experts at the peak of the third stage could be easily wiped out by a single fourth-stage warrior.

Fortunately, Ethan was far from being an ordinary third-stage expert.

First, with the Burning Blood’s body-strengthening ability, he could boost his attributes, pushing them to an average well above three thousand points.

Second, he would receive buffs from Amelia, which would further amplify his attributes and raw strength.

Third, his skills were simply on another level. Each one was so superior to Zael’s most powerful techniques that any comparison between the two bordered on unfairness.

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