SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

But Damien’s gaze swept over the fallen men, his thoughts darker. ‘Predators breeding in the cracks of Delwig’s safety. Masked operatives in tunnels. And now this… The city’s not nearly as secure as they want to believe.’

He extended a hand, pulling Lyone back to his feet.

“Enough for tonight,” Damien said, his tone quiet but firm. “You proved your point. Now, let’s go before more rats crawl out.”

Lyone nodded, his pride tempered by exhaustion, and together they slipped back toward the barracks—one boy who had faced his trial, and one man who had watched silently, calculating the dangers growing all around them.

~~~~~

The morning light crept in softly through the shutters, brushing against the edges of the wooden table and the low, simple beds that Damien and his group had claimed as theirs.

The place was indeed a modest lodging, one that Apnoch had secured for them within the military quarter—safe, quiet, and close enough to the heart of Delwig that General Ivaan could summon them at will.

Damien stirred when he felt the presence of someone moving. His eyes half-opened, and there was Arielle, already dressed, combing her hair lightly while her gaze kept sliding toward Lyone’s bed. The boy still slept deeply, curled on his side with the blanket half-pulled away.

But what caught Arielle’s eye wasn’t his sleeping posture—it was the faint discoloration on his skin, the bruises running across his shoulder and ribs, remnants of the previous merciless training sessions. Her hand stilled mid-motion, comb frozen in place, as a memory pulled her back.

She had been there once, just a few years ago—pushed past her limits, body screaming with pain that refused to heal fast enough, forced to fight mock battle after mock battle long before she awakened her talent. It had been isolating, exhausting, and lonely.

Now, looking at Lyone, she felt a tug of something she rarely allowed herself to feel—pity mingled with pride.

Lyone’s eyes cracked open, groggy but sharp enough to notice her staring. He blinked once, then quickly tugged his blanket up to his shoulders. “Uh… good morning, Arielle.” His tone was defensive, embarrassed that she’d caught sight of his wounds.

Damien, who’d been lying silently with one arm draped over his eyes, finally chuckled. He turned his head lazily toward the scene, a smirk playing on his lips.

“If you keep staring at him like that, Arielle, his clothes might vanish on their own.”

Arielle blinked and jerked her gaze away, her face warming as if she’d just been caught doing something scandalous. “I was just—checking to see if he’s all right. That’s all.”

Damien raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Purely medical observation. Nothing to be ashamed of.” His teasing tone carried no malice, only that half-playful edge that always forced people to acknowledge what they wanted to dismiss.

“Haha… nothing to be ashamed of.” Arielle shook her head, trying to shake the heaviness that had overtaken her earlier. But Damien didn’t miss it—the subtle dip in her mood, the way her laughter sounded more like she was forcing herself back into the present.

When Lyone sat up and stretched, Damien noticed the faint awkwardness in the boy too. His movements were stiffer, more deliberate, as though he wanted to project strength despite the soreness that clung to his muscles.

“Looks like Apnoch’s men aren’t holding back,” Damien observed. “That’s good. Keep at it, and you’ll stop being a burden sooner than you think.”

Lyone grinned faintly at that—Damien’s blunt honesty had always been strangely motivating.

But Damien’s eyes flicked back to Arielle. Her silence lingered just a moment too long. He leaned forward on his bed, resting an elbow on his knee. “You’ve been staring holes through the boy and spacing out all morning. Care to share what’s actually on your mind, Arielle?”

She met his gaze briefly, her expression unreadable, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just—memories. Nothing worth dragging into today.”

Damien studied her a moment longer, but she waved him off.

Instead, she turned to Lyone. “Come with me. We need to buy something decent to eat. Training on an empty stomach doesn’t help anyone.”

Lyone perked up instantly. “Shopping? With you?” He sounded both eager and cautious, as if half-afraid she’d change her mind.

“Don’t get too excited. We’re only buying food,” Arielle said, but a tiny smile cracked through her calm demeanor.

When Lyone passed Damien’s bed, Damien stretched out his fist. Lyone grinned and bumped it without hesitation.

“Keep Arielle safe,” Damien said simply.

Lyone almost protested—it was obvious Arielle could protect him far more easily than the other way around—but the seriousness in Damien’s tone made him nod firmly. “I will.”

The two left together, Arielle’s figure graceful and calm, Lyone almost bouncing with barely contained energy despite the bruises that ached beneath his clothes.

Silence settled for only a heartbeat before the door creaked again.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Heavy boots against the floorboards announced the arrival of Captain Apnoch. His frame filled the doorway, armor faintly glinting, expression stern but not unfriendly.

Damien let his head fall back onto the pillow and groaned. “Of course. No peace for the wicked.”

Apnoch folded his arms. “General Ivaan requests your presence.”

“Now?” Damien asked, sitting up with exaggerated slowness.

“Now,” Apnoch repeated firmly.

Damien sighed, running a hand down his face. “At least let me shower before you barge in to drag me across the city. I’m not about to meet a general smelling like a sewer.”

Apnoch’s lips twitched, though whether it was amusement or irritation, Damien couldn’t tell. “Five minutes.”

“Ten,” Damien countered, already swinging his legs over the bed.

“Seven.”

Damien grinned as he stood, stretching leisurely. “Done. You’re learning negotiation. Maybe I’ll train you next.”

Apnoch muttered something under his breath, but Damien ignored it as he gathered his things.

That carefree air of his clung around him, but beneath it, his mind ticked steadily forward. Arielle’s mood, Lyone’s bruises, Apnoch’s summons, Ivaan’s request—all pieces of a puzzle sliding into place.

And as always, Damien knew puzzles had sharp edges.