SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

Three days passed. The calm stretched thin, almost unnaturally so.

For the survivors, it was healing time — the first stretch of peace they’d known since Delwig burned. But for Damien, each sunrise only made the silence feel heavier. It was like all of this would soon come to an end and he was only waiting for the end to come each day.

The days began the same way. Soldiers drilled in the yard under Apnoch’s orders, their shouts echoing off the walls. The city’s guards brought supplies at dawn. They would provide bread, salted meat, mashed potatoes, and clean water.

Children of Delwig ran among the tents again, laughing faintly, their joy fragile but real. They had come to like the citizens of Delwig that had found refuge in the walls of this new city.

And always, Damien was awake before them, walking the perimeter of the camp with his usual measured steps. His eyes were distant, his thoughts elsewhere, toward ruins that still whispered to him.

Arielle found him there on the third morning, leaning against the wall, watching the fog lift over the rooftops.

“You’re not even pretending to rest anymore,” she said softly.

Damien’s mouth curved faintly. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Let me guess — you were thinking.”

“I try not to.”

She folded her arms, studying him. “You don’t know how to stop, do you?”

“I stopped once,” he said after a pause. “Didn’t like what it cost.”

That silenced her for a moment. The memories of Delwig still hung too close to the surface.

Arielle exhaled slowly. “You’re leaving soon.”

“Yes.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as I find the direction worth taking.”

She gave a wry smile. “You always say things like that. Like you’re walking through mist and pretending there’s a road ahead.”

“Maybe there is,” he said. “Maybe there isn’t. Either way, I have to walk.”

The same day, Lord Merith summoned them again.

This time, it wasn’t to question . It was to thank them.

The manor courtyard shimmered under the midday light. Merith stood beside a fountain surrounded by guards and attendants, his silver-trimmed robes catching the sun. His smile was polite, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Captain Apnoch, Lady Arielle, Master Damien,” he greeted as they approached. “I owe you all a debt. Not only for surviving the fall of Delwig but for keeping its people alive long enough to reach my city.”

Apnoch bowed slightly. “You’ve already repaid us, my lord. Food and shelter were more than enough.”

Merith waved a hand. “Nonsense. Refugees are one thing, soldiers another. Discipline brings stability, and this city needs that now more than ever.”

He motioned toward one of the stewards, who stepped forward with a small chest. When opened, it revealed neatly stacked silver tokens — currency bearing the city’s crest.

“Your men will each receive their due,” Merith continued. “A gesture of gratitude, and perhaps encouragement to stay. Delwig’s strength doesn’t need to vanish with its walls.”

Apnoch blinked, clearly surprised. “That’s… generous, my lord.”

Merith smiled faintly. “Generosity keeps people loyal. And loyalty keeps cities standing.” His gaze flicked to Damien. “Though it has already been understood that not all intend to stay.”

Damien met the lord’s eyes. “No.”

A quiet moment passed between them a contest of calm against calm.

Merith’s tone shifted, curious rather than confrontational. “May I ask what drives you, Master Damien? You’ve seen what lies beyond the Verge. What compels a man to go back toward it?”

“The same thing that destroyed Delwig,” Damien replied evenly. “It’s not finished. If I wait here, it will come again. And stronger.”

The lord studied him for a long while, then nodded slowly. “A man haunted by unfinished battles.”

“Haunted enough to end them,” Damien said.

Merith chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You sound like the heroes of old tales, the kind who die before the song is finished.”

Damien’s lips twitched. “Then I’ll make sure no one writes one.”

Apnoch cleared his throat before the silence could deepen. “We appreciate your hospitality, my lord. And your aid. But if he’s going back into the Verge, he won’t go alone.”

Merith’s brows lifted. “You’re going with him?”

Apnoch glanced at Damien, then shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve got people here who need rebuilding before they can start dreaming of fighting again. But…” His tone softened. “When the time comes, if he needs soldiers, he’ll know where to find us.”

The lord nodded approvingly. “Then perhaps this city will serve as both refuge and rallying ground.”

Damien inclined his head. “That’s all I’d ask.”

Merith gestured toward the fountain. “Then come. Walk with me.”

They followed as he moved along the cobbled path, the sound of water rippling in the background. Birds sang faintly in the garden trees, the peace almost surreal after weeks of battle and ruin.

“I’ve spoken to the council,” Merith said. “They’ll recognize your survivors as citizens. Your soldiers will be integrated with our own for the time being. It’s not Delwig, but it’s something.”

Apnoch bowed his head. “Thank you, my lord.”

The lord’s gaze shifted again to Damien. “And you — I’ll have a travel writ prepared by morning. It’ll open the gates of any city under my banner and mark you as an ally, not a vagrant.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Damien said.

“It’s not a favor,” Merith replied evenly. “It’s insurance. If what you say about this corruption is true, I’d rather not have my guards mistakenly bar the man who might save us from it.”

Damien gave a faint nod. “Then I’ll accept.”

They parted soon after.

Apnoch lingered behind to speak with the quartermasters, while Arielle and Damien walked back toward the camp.

The city was alive around them, market stalls opening, children running past with baskets, smiths hammering in rhythm. The scent of roasted grain filled the streets. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt normal.

Almost.

“You’re restless,” Arielle said quietly.

Damien didn’t deny it. “The quiet never lasts.”

“You sound disappointed that it did.”

He glanced at her, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Maybe I am.”

She shook her head. “You need to learn to live in peace when it finds you.”

“I’ll try,” he said. “After this.”

She laughed softly. “You said something similar last time.”

That evening, as dusk settled, the camp buzzed with talk. Some were packing their few belongings, others helping erect sturdier shelters under the city’s supervision. The survivors had begun to adapt.

Apnoch gathered them before the fires, standing with his arms crossed as he addressed them. “You’ve all heard the news. We’re not refugees anymore, we’re citizens now. That means work, order, and duty. We’ll rebuild, even if it’s not Delwig.”

A few murmurs followed, uncertain but hopeful.

“And Damien?” someone asked.

Apnoch glanced toward where Damien stood a little apart, silent as always. “He’s leaving. Heading back into the wilds.”

The reaction was instant — surprise, disbelief, even a few protests.

“After what happened?”

“Is he mad?”

“He saved us, and now he’s walking back into that?”

Damien lifted a hand and the chatter stilled. His voice carried easily through the night.

“Delwig fell because we didn’t know what we were fighting,” he said. “That’s a mistake I don’t plan to repeat. The rest of you live. Rebuild. If I find something worth warning you about, you’ll know before anyone else.”

A hush followed, heavy but respectful. Then Apnoch nodded once, his tone rough. “Then we’ll hold the line until you get back.”

Damien’s eyes softened briefly. “You always do.”

Later, long after most of the camp had gone quiet, Arielle found him near the edge of the training ground, sitting on the low wall that overlooked the city’s southern lights.

“Apnoch’s giving the men a speech,” she said. “Told them you’re too stubborn to die.”

“Not the worst reputation to have.”

“True.” She sat beside him, folding her arms around her knees. The wind carried the scent of rain again. “So. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed.

“You really think we’ll find something in the Verge?”

“I think we’ll find what’s left of the truth,” he said. “And that’s enough.”

Arielle was quiet for a moment, watching the lanterns flicker across the rooftops. “Lyone’s staying?”

“Yes,” Damien said. “Apnoch needs him. The boy’s still learning to fight — better under structure than wandering with us.” If only she knew at this point, she wouldn’t have let it happen this way.

She nodded. “He’ll be disappointed.”

“He’ll understand.”

The silence stretched between them, soft and comfortable. Somewhere below, the city bells tolled the ninth hour.

Arielle turned to look at him. “You really think it never ends, don’t you?”

Damien’s gaze stayed on the horizon. “Everything ends. The question is how much it takes before it does.”

The wind tugged at his cloak, carrying his words into the night.

At dawn, the city would open its gates for him once more — this time not as a survivor, but as a man walking willingly back into danger.

For now, he simply sat there, watching the faint line of light grow along the horizon, the world poised between peace and motion.

The stillness before the next storm.