SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

The final day of the Grand Contest between academies dawned crisp and thunderous.

Though no rain touched the air, the sky over the Grand Colosseum buzzed with static—the kind of tension only war, pride, or greatness could summon.

And the students of the Four Great Academies were expected to deliver all three.

Within the marble-stone walls of the arena, thousands had gathered—heads craned, voices high, wagers whispered across food vendors and tiered balconies.

Magic screens hovered midair, suspended by unseen enchantments, projecting close-ups of the arena floor below.

This was it.

The last day.

And only one group could leave with their names carved into the winners’ gate.

The Year Five division would fight next.

A culmination of five years of study, training, brutal field evaluation, experience, and countless sleepless nights. These weren’t green recruits anymore. They were the ones the academies gambled their reputations on.

And with the final trials ahead, the crowd wanted blood and brilliance both.

Already, the Year Three and Year Four contests had stirred the masses.

Year Three had been chaos incarnate, with Damon, then just a well-known dueling champion, breaking multiple records with his squad and throwing Crowgarth’s meticulously laid plans into disarray. That single event had sparked a wave of admiration—and a larger wave of contempt from rival schools.

Year Four had been less dramatic but no less brilliant. ElderGlow placed third overall, behind Thornevale and Wyrmere—hardly disappointing, but not enough to reignite the fire Damon had sparked.

Today, they hoped the Year Five class would reclaim that glory.

No more excuses. No more fallback years.

Just the final test.

Within ElderGlow’s northern tower, spectators filed in early, draped in academy colors—light blue and silver.

Even those who had no kin on the battlefield still screamed the academy’s name like it meant home.

Professors from all four schools had gathered at their viewing balconies.

And among the earliest to arrive?

Damon.

With sleeves half-rolled and a pouch of gold coins clinking in his right hand, he strolled down the colosseum’s outer path like a man heading for breakfast.

“Third betting line’s usually open before the crowds settle,” he murmured to himself, eyes scanning the stalls. “Wyrmere odds on brute types are inflated, Thornevale’s too clean—Crowgarth might tank their own again. But ElderGlow’s backup squad is still a wildcard…and then, they do have a hidden card.”

He adjusted his collar and grinned. “Easy gold.”

He reached the end of the west corridor, a side path lined with vendor stalls and independent betting kiosks enchanted for quick wager spells. Just as he reached for a sign-up sheet—

“Damon.”

The voice stopped him cold.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.

Miss Leana stood just behind him, arms crossed, robes crisp, and her signature metal hairpin gleaming under the morning light. Her dark hair was pinned higher than usual with the pin, and her brow was arched in that particular way that meant only one thing. ‘You’re not supposed to be here.’

He froze with the casual guilt of someone caught mid-cookie theft.

“…Morning, Miss Leana,” he said, not turning around. “Didn’t think you’d be here this early.”

“You’re wearing a betting bracelet,” she replied flatly.

“I am.”

“You’re skipping the Year Five pre-battle analysis briefing.”

“I am.”

She stepped closer. “And you’re about to wager on your own academy.”

Damon turned, wearing the kind of smile that made discipline difficult.

“Not my academy. Just students from it. I’m a free man now. My participation is as good as over.”

“You’re still on a resting break from all the fatigue and injury you suffered during your own tests.”

“Allegedly.”

She didn’t blink. “Go sit down.”

“Five gold. Just five—”

“Now.”

He sighed theatrically and dropped his betting scroll into his pocket. “Fine. I’ll just watch people with no tactical sense throw away their chances.”

Leana walked beside him, glancing at him only once.

“You’re the worst influence on the junior years.”

“I’m also their biggest fan.”

“They don’t need your fanfare. They need focus.”

“They need wins, Miss Leana. And if they pull one off today…” he grinned, tapping his temple, “I intend to get paid for my loyalty.”

She chuckled once—just under her breath. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you. Still showing up in all black, looking like you’re one question away from turning someone into a frog.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Don’t tempt me.”

As they returned to the northern viewing deck, the colosseum below shifted again.

The arena’s floor changed—stone rumbling and sliding away as the new combat field rose into place.

Platforms of uneven elevation. Floating magic tiles. Spire-like pillars scattered across a wide flat field—terrain built for strategy, deception, and chaos.

A voice boomed overhead.

“Contestants of the Year Five division, prepare yourselves!”

Crowds leaned forward.

“The final trial begins in one hour! Group trials will commence in the following sequence: Crowgarth versus Thornevale… followed by Wyrmere versus ElderGlow!”

Gasps erupted through the crowd.

Damon’s eyes gleamed.

Leana exhaled. “So it begins.”

Damon was halfway through the viewing hallway when he pulled a sharp right into a shaded stairwell.

Miss Leana had barely turned her back for ten seconds, and that was all he needed.

His boots thudded softly down the steps, and within moments he was slipping between two stacked tents beside the outer rim of the Colosseum—right back into the open-air market lanes where half a dozen betting scrolls hung under fluttering enchanted banners.

He grinned.

“Fool me once, Miss Leana…”

He adjusted his collar, stepped toward the first stall, and leaned on the counter. The vendor, a squat man with no eyebrows and a scar across his cheek, raised his chin.

“You’re late, pretty boy. Odds’ve shifted.”

“I like risk,” Damon replied, already skimming the glowing runes on the list.

The current wagers were live.

Crowgarth to overpower Thornevale – odds 3.4:1

Wyrmere to hold ElderGlow for 8 minutes – odds 2.7:1

ElderGlow team to survive with all members standing – odds 12:1

Participants Disqualification due to Essence Overdraw – odds 6:1

Damon’s smile curled wider. “Now that’s an option.”

He laid down his bet on ElderGlow surviving intact, slid ten gold across the etched slate, and sealed the scroll with his blood signature.

The merchant blinked. “That confident in your seniors?”

Damon nodded once. “Or maybe I know something you don’t.”

He turned before the man could question him again and melted back into the tented walkways, moving fast to rejoin the upper tower where the crowd was already roaring.

Back at the northern balcony, Leana turned as he reappeared, hair wind-tossed and expression far too pleased with itself.

“You vanished.”

“I took a leak.”

“You vanished.”

“I did it efficiently.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away just as the arena floor began to pulse with light.

Damon’s eyes narrowed.

The Colosseum rumbled again—but this time, the transformation was more violent. Instead of the floor rearranging into elegant platforms or simple terrain, cracks split the ground like something was trying to claw its way out.

The stadium hushed.

Dust spilled upward.

Stone fragments floated—defying gravity—and slowly drifted into the air like they were caught in a bubble.

Then the announcer’s voice came, deeper now, almost grave:

“Year Five Contestants. You have reached the final day. Your first test… is not combat. Not entirely.”

Murmurs rippled across the crowd.

“You have trained for five years. You know how to fight. What we need to see now… is if you can survive the unknown.”

The floor of the arena split fully, revealing a spiral staircase of pure white steel descending into darkness.

From above, it looked like the mouth of some great abyss.

Damon leaned forward. “That’s new.”

Leana didn’t speak.

“This year, by order of the Academy Council, the first trial shall be the Maze of Wills.”

More gasps.

Even Leana’s brows furrowed now.

“Each academy will send their team. You will not face each other. You will face what lies below. Illusion, memory, fear, and pressure. The Maze reads your weakness. And it manifests it.”

A strange, ethereal wind blew across the stadium. Some audience members instinctively leaned back.

“Survive. Maintain composure. Maintain team cohesion. And emerge intact. That is your trial. The deeper you go, the higher your score. Failure to continue… is failure to graduate.”

A pause.

“The first to descend… ElderGlow. Prepare yourselves.”

Inside the preparation chamber, four Year Five students of ElderGlow stood in silence.

Their names weren’t cheered like Damon’s had been in Year Three.

Not yet.

But they were ready.

The squad leader, a tall, copper-toned boy with storm-blue eyes named Reiz, rolled his shoulders.

“We’re up,” he said.

The others nodded.

Back in the stands, Damon finally exhaled.

“Well… I’ll admit,” he muttered, “this one’s more brutal than I expected.”

Leana crossed her arms. “The Maze of Wills hasn’t been used in fifteen years.”

“Too many mental breakdowns?”

“Too many truths revealed. And too many who couldn’t face them.”

She turned, finally meeting Damon’s gaze.

“Do you think you would have passed it?”

Damon’s eyes flicked to the spiral entrance now glowing at the center of the arena.

“…Guess we’ll never know.”

A/N: Hello Dear Readers. I want to use this medium to apologise to you all for the inconsistent updates these past few weeks.

This is my final semester as a University student and it is quite arduous for me. It is very tasking and so I barely have the time to write and update new chapters but as the semester comes to an end soon, I want to assure you all that daily updates will Indo return strongly. Thank you all for reading this far. I love you all.