SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

Damien drifted in two spaces at once.

His true body sat cross-legged on the forest floor, breath steady, the soft weight of Verdant Verge air filling his lungs.

Luton rested somewhere nearby. He could sense the familiar flicker of its presence, a small anchor to the real world.

But his mind, his mind soared through the sky on Aquila’s back.

Through the griffin’s eyes, the world was crisp and vast. Wind rushed in sharp currents past its feathers. Damien felt all of it as though he was the griffin himself.

The forest below looked like a rippling sea of green and shadow. The distant mountains gleamed. A faint trail of city lights shimmered beyond the horizon like embers scattered in the dusk.

Aquila angled her wings, descending.

The city’s walls rose ahead.

Damien felt the impact of each powerful wingbeat, the subtle tension in Aquila’s muscles as she slowed her descent.

He felt the warmth of Arielle’s weight against Aquila’s back, the faint tremor in her hands as she held on the summon’s fur. The way her heartbeat was still unsteady. Still fighting its own grief.

She didn’t look back. Not once.

That alone pierced him.

The griffin landed outside the city gates with a heavy thud, dust scattering around her talons.

Guards rushed forward in alarm before recognizing the massive creature, and moments later Arielle slid off Aquila’s back. She was immediately identified as one of the refugees. One of the two refugees who’d gone out of the city earlier during the day.

Damien felt her knees hit the earth. He felt her exhale, a shakiness she tried to hide.

Then the gates burst open.

“Big Sister Arielle!”

Lyone was the first to run out.

His clothes were loose, hair slightly disheveled from training, but his green eyes were bright as he sprinted across the road.

He reached her and immediately grabbed her arm, scanning her up and down for injuries.

Through Aquila’s senses, Damien felt a sudden pressure in his chest. An unexpected, sharp tug, as though something inside him clenched without warning.

Lyone pulled her into a tight hug.

Damien didn’t hear Arielle speak. Didn’t hear Lyone’s questions. But he saw the way Arielle hugged him back, strong and protective, as though anchoring herself.

Behind them, Apnoch emerged, relief softening his weathered features. A few survivors followed, waving, calling out her name.

He could barely hear their questions but when he saw how they reacted to whatever response Arielle had given, he knew what she’d said to them. Shed definitely explained that Damien wouldn’t be coming back. At least not yet.

He could sense their emotions through Aquila.

The summon shifted in place, feathers ruffling with a low, unhappy rumble.

She didn’t want to leave Arielle.

Damien felt that emotion clearly. It was raw, instinctive, and loyal. A summon’s heart tended to mirror its master’s. Damien didn’t want to admit

That tug in his chest tightened again.

And Damien severed the link. “Disable (Sensory Link) already. I don’t want to see any more than I already have.”

The world snapped back.

The crisp forest air replaced the wind-swept sky. His senses collapsed inward like closing doors. His body jolted gently, adjusting to being one self again.

He opened his eyes.

A soft weight rested on his head.

Damien blinked upward.

“…Luton.”

The small slime sat comfortably on his hair, bubbling with blatant joy. Its wobbly body pulsed a bright, playful red as it waved a tiny pseudopod.

“Hrrmm.” Damien rubbed his face. “You were supposed to be watching.”

Luton gurgled innocently.

And then Damien noticed the shadows around him.

Mana beasts.

Not hostile, just curious.

Drawn here not by Damien’s presence but by Luton’s preformance on his head while his senses were elsewhere.

A half-circle of low-ranked forest creatures sat around him like an audience. Foxwolves, moon-horned deer, a few barkfur boars, even a pair of gem-eyed birds perched on twisted branches. Damien even spotted a full grown bear with it’s spine visible on its back.

All of them were staring. At Luton’s display.

Damien exhaled long and slow. “So you made friends. Or maybe preys?”

Luton wobbled proudly.

He flicked the summon’s side lightly and stood up, brushing leaves from his cloak.

Aquila would be returning soon. She always did after a link was abruptly cut; the bond would call her back.

But Damien wasn’t heading toward the refuge city.

His gaze drifted to the other side, toward Delwig’s ruins.

He felt the pull.

“Come,” he murmured to Luton.

The slime hopped from his head to his shoulder, clinging with a soft plop.

Damien began walking.

The silence in Delwig was heavier than he remembered.

He stepped past the broken gates, boots crunching over charred stone and crumbling debris.

The air also had a certain taste to it.

The taste of soot despite the passing days. The streets were empty—stretches of blackened earth, shattered homes, ruined walls, and twisted beams where life once thrived.

He walked slowly, scanning each corner, each husk of a building.

Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.

Damien had expected as much. Still, he searched.

Not for survivors, he knew there were none left here.

He searched for… traces.

Traces of Ivaan’s remnants or at least those who had come to Delwig with him. Traces of lingering corruption. Traces of anything that might have slipped past them the first time.

He walked the same paths he’d trodden days earlier. Through the hollow remnants of the market streets. Past the collapsed barracks. Along the line of ruined walls, now half-buried under debris and ash. He reached one of the main areas of the city, now only a crater filled with cold stone dust.

Nothing. There was no fluctuating mana, no signs of demonic residue, and no whispers from the Gate.

Just ruin, silence, and memories of his time here.

Damien exhaled, breath visible in the faint chill that lingered over the land.

Maybe it was good that nothing remained.

Maybe.

His steps carried him toward the northern wall breach, the route through which he had first chased Ivaan into the Verge.

A piercing cry split the air.

Fwwshhh…

Thump!

Aquila landed behind him, talons cracking the scorched stone. Damien turned in time to see the griffin shaking her feathers violently, eyes narrowed in agitation.

A mental voice pressed into his mind. Aquila’s emotion came across clearly. It didn’t need to speak for him to understand.

Why did he send her away?

Why did he leave her alone?

Damien placed both hands on the creature’s beak and stroked carefully.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know. But we’ll return to them. I promise.”

Aquila’s wings lowered. She let out a low, rumbling croon and nuzzled into his shoulder with surprising gentleness for something so lethal.

Damien held her for a moment longer.

Then he let his hand drop to her neck.

“Good work then.”

To his system, he commanded. “Cancel summon on Aquila.”

Aquila’s form dissolved into light, vanishing in a shimmering burst of mana.

The forest wind swept in behind her absence.

Damien stood there quietly, Luton perched on his shoulder humming a soft, uncertain note.

“…Not much left to see,” he said under his breath.

And with that, he turned away from Delwig.

He walked until the city’s ruins disappeared behind the trees, swallowed by shadow and distance.

At the edge of the forest, where the last dead stones met the living undergrowth, he raised a hand.

A soft glow answered him.

“Summon Skylar.”

A rush of wind, soft but sharp, whispered through the canopy as the winged summon materialized from a large blue portal.

The Shadowfang Wyvern, Skylar flicked its scaly tail and wings with restless energy, head perking up at Damien’s presence.

Damien stroked its head once.

“No route today,” he said. “Just go. Wherever the wind takes you.”

Skylar blinked, as if confused.

“Yes,” Damien repeated with a faint smile. “Anywhere.”

Skylar gave a small rumble, then spread its wings wide and launched skyward, soaring above the treetops until it vanished into the wilderness.

Damien watched until it was gone.

The forest rustled.

Birds flew.

The world continued.

He adjusted his cloak and turned away, and in the depths of the Verdant Verge, far behind him, a faint cracking sound whispered through the air.

Kraaa…

At the Gate.

The seal, already cracked once by Ivaan’s ritual, cracked once again.

A hairline fracture split along the ancient surface, almost invisible in the dim forest light.

The ground trembled.

Not enough to shake the trees—only enough to echo through the roots.

Then silence returned.

As though nothing had ever happened.

Damien did not look back.

He had flown up into the skies, leaving behind the forest for his next target.

He had no map. No compass. No destination except the direction Skylar had taken.

But he flew with certainty.

Toward training, toward danger. Toward the place he had once escaped. The place that might kill him. The place he needed to return to.

The Forest of Twin Disasters.

He walked without hesitation.

Because if he didn’t grow stronger now, no one he cared for would survive what was coming next.