"Godfrey, are you alright?" Victoria asked in a concerned tone as she approached, just after he told Mountain to calm down.
One of the reasons humanoid summons were so looked down on was because the majority of them were golems, clunky and rigid, or worse, the stinking undead skeletons, nothing but brainless puppets for their summoners to control. It made them far weaker than beast summons. Most humanoids lacked good skills and abilities, most had nothing but heavy defense, but compared to the instincts and raw power of beasts, they were pathetically weak.
Yet the knight standing beside Godfrey was nothing like that.
Mountain wasn't lifeless. He breathed, and each breath carried a low rumble that rolled across the room, pressing into Victoria's chest as if she were standing before a massive beast. His aura alone dwarfed what his tier should produce. Even Godfrey could sense it.
Other summons simply grew stronger. But Mountain felt different. He wasn't just growing, he was retracing his steps back to his true peak, and that return would only make his growth even faster.
It was like the difference between a beginner paying for the gym to build up strength, and a seasoned gym rat returning after months away, strength coming back with frightening speed.
Godfrey tugged at his top and peeled it off, revealing the body he had forged through years of martial arts and training. His frame was lean but packed with tone and definition, every muscle a product of sweat and discipline. He had built himself up not for vanity, but so he could at least stand against low-tier summoners. In this society, almost everyone knew how to fight, if he didn't train harder than the rest, he had no chance.
Victoria's brows arched, then she scoffed. "You're fine." She picked up his discarded top and tossed it back at him. "Pull up your pants and go take a bath. I'll inform your mother about the green dungeon gate."
"I know you don't want to tell her," Godfrey said with a shrug, "so don't." He turned toward Mountain, half serious, half teasing. "Do you need a bath?"
Victoria froze, then shot him a look.
"I've seen summons on TV take a bath," he said defensively.
"They're not towering seven-foot knights," she replied almost angrily. "It's not necessary. Summons don't smell, not as long as they return to the soul space."
Godfrey smirked and raised a hand. "You may go back."
The portal opened, and Mountain bowed his head respectfully before stepping into the circle. The room filled with the echo of clinking metal until the portal closed with a final hum.
Victoria's eyes widened. "It's intelligent…"
"Mountain is—" Godfrey's words trailed off. His gaze shifted to the tall window at the far end of his bedroom. From the third floor, he always loved looking outside, whether at sunrise when he woke or at night before he slept.
His chest tightened.
Roland Daniels' statue, the great statue raised in honor of his father's sacrifice, stood in the distance. Or rather, what was left of it.
The statue was headless. Metal constructs clung to its body with ropes, and workers swarmed across it like ants, dismantling piece by piece. From his angle, the buildings hid the figure from the shoulders down, but the desecration was clear enough.
"Why are they bringing it down?" he asked, his voice low.
Victoria sighed heavily. "It's been there sixteen years. The mayor decided to replace it. The Pagoda Guild has been protecting this city and many others around the globe. They've risen to the number one guild in the world. Honoring them with a statue will win our city their favor."
"I see…" Godfrey's eyes stayed fixed on the broken monument. His jaw clenched.
The guild took everything from dungeons, the cores, the beast parts, the spoils, feeding their guild's growth. But his father? His father had fought for the authorities, risking his life to close dungeons before they broke, shutting gates before chaos spilled out, saving lives without thought of profit. And now they tore down his statue for the sake of a guild.
It was like showing the same gratitude to a man who gave you a free ride in his car and to a taxi driver you paid in full. The absurdity made his stomach twist.
***
After a long bath, most of which he spent trying to scrub the anger out of his veins, Godfrey managed to get some rest before dinner.
The moment he sat at the dining table, Valentina swept into the sitting room, dropping her bag and approaching him with her usual radiant smile.
Victoria brought the dishes to the table just in time to see her boss, still in her white coat from work, wrap her arms around her son's head and smother him into her bosom.
Godfrey tilted his chair back and gave her a fake frown.
"My baby, why are you frowning at mummy?" Valentina teased in a playful tone, her voice deliberately cutesy. She kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, ignoring his muffled protests until he groaned.
"I'm not angry at you!" Godfrey cried out.
Telling her he was sixteen was pointless. He'd been saying it since he was fourteen, and it had never once stopped her, not even on his recent birthday.
Valentina finally leaned back with a chuckle, brushing his hair back with one hand before settling beside him. "How was school? Did you make any friends?"
Godfrey glanced at her, then at Victoria as she set plates before them. He knew his mother was avoiding the topic of his summon, probably believing it would only make him feel worse.
His chest grew tight as he remembered how she used to climb to the rooftop just to gaze at his father's statue.
'How could they do this to her?' he thought bitterly.
She had carried Amazon on her shoulders alone, and yet the authorities still tore down her husband's memory. She must have petitioned against it. She must have fought. And lost.
Maybe it was his fault. Maybe if he weren't so weak, his mother wouldn't have to live with that pain.
"Sweetie, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Valentina's voice softened as she caught the flicker of sadness in his eyes.
Godfrey quickly forced a smile. "I'm fine."
***
Later that night, Godfrey sat at his desk, laptop open, searching for green dungeons. The results poured in by the hundreds, but as he scrolled, he realized most of them were false alarms, paranoid citizens mistaking shadows for danger.
Then a notification blinked. A new message.
The profile picture was of a young girl with the beauty of a supermodel. Golden-white hair spilled across a pillow as soft as a cloud, her golden-orange eyes gleaming with an almost divine allure.
Godfrey's eyes widened. 'Isolde.'
He opened the message.
'Hey pretty face, we have a competition at the end of the month. Don't miss it.'
His brows furrowed. How in the world did she get my contact?
'How did you get my contact?' he typed back.
Her reply came instantly. 'I asked the headmaster.'
Godfrey blinked, stunned.
Meanwhile, lying chest-first on her bed, Isolde chuckled at the sight of Godfrey's profile picture, a half-face shot taken right after a bath. It could have been a good photo if half his head wasn't cut off.
'You're not photogenic,' she teased.
Godfrey groaned, quickly checking the picture. The rest of the chat was her bombarding him with selfies, claiming she was "teaching" him how to take a proper picture.
In truth, all it did was make his cheeks heat up.
Her golden eyes glowed warmly, her hair unbound, spilling freely around her face. She looked enchanting this way, far more than the cold, untouchable girl she appeared to be in class.
And Godfrey found himself liking this side of her far too much.
...
A/N: I hope you enjoy this novel. Support by adding to your library and giving a power stone or two. Thank you.