SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

The forest trembled.

Each heartbeat echoed through the soil as Damien staggered to his feet, breath sharp and shallow. His body screamed with pain; blood slicked his ribs and dripped from his palms.

The sky above the Verdant Verge was a swirl of black and crimson light—the storm of Ivaan’s unleashed essence tearing apart the air itself.

The general stood before the gate, surrounded by a growing cyclone of dark energy, his eyes consumed by the same darkness that radiated from his core.

The runes carved from beast blood glowed like molten veins across the ground, and the massive sealed gate pulsed like something alive behind him.

Damien knew he was running out of time.

Every instinct in him screamed for him to run, yet his heart roared that he should fight. If Ivaan succeeded, if the seals broke even halfway, whatever lay beneath would consume Delwig and more.

He clenched his jaw, gathering his last reserves of essence.

The summoning circle beneath him flickered once, then again. His veins burned as he pushed his essence outward, feeling it spiral out of his control—too much power for too little strength. But he didn’t stop.

Not when the runes on the ground before him began to rearrange.

Not when the world itself seemed to pause.

A soundless pulse rippled outward, and from the circle stepped something that did not belong in this age.

At first, it looked like a small fox. Its paws pressed against the blood-soaked soil without a sound.

Snow-white fur shimmered faintly under the fractured light. Three tails swayed behind it like drifting silk ribbons, each tipped with a faint crimson hue. Its eyes, impossibly deep, black pools with burning red centers, lifted to meet his.

The forest went utterly still. Even the gate’s pulse faltered for a moment.

Ivaan stopped chanting and turned, laughter bubbling from his lips. “That? That’s your summon? A baby fox?”

His words echoed mockingly, but Damien didn’t move. His gaze stayed on the creature, on the quiet, deliberate way it stepped forward—closer, and closer still.

Because he knew what this was.

He’d seen it once before. In the Forest of Twin Disasters. A legend whispered in every ancient book on beasts. A Nine-Tailed Fox. A celestial beast of balance and destruction.

Only this one had three tails.

And that was what made it even more terrifying.

Ivaan couldn’t sense the depth of its essence. Its aura was muted, nearly invisible. He thought it weak. But Damien knew better—this fox wasn’t weak; it was restrained. Its true essence was sealed, just as the Gate was.

The fox padded up to Damien, head slightly tilted, eyes glimmering like two dying stars. Then it placed one paw on his chest.

A soft glow—white and red—flowed into him, and the pain vanished. Torn flesh sealed, broken ribs realigned, blood evaporated from his skin. His essence, drained nearly to exhaustion, refilled in seconds.

A notification flickered across his consciousness, his internal system responding automatically.

«The Nine-Tailed Fox has initiated the Pact of Summons.»

Damien froze. Initiated?

Every pact he’d ever made, he had initiated himself. Cerbe, Fenrir, Luton, Aquila, and even the scary Skylar.

Each bond had required his command, his offering, his ritual and even his blood. But this… this creature was choosing him.

He hesitated for only a heartbeat before whispering, “Accept.”

The moment he did, a surge of essence burst through him. It wasn’t violent—it was vast. Endless. Like standing before a tidal wave of cosmic energy that could crush him into dust if it willed it. He barely stayed conscious as the pact sealed.

Then warm energy began moving through his veins as his fatal injuries slowly began to close up.

“Thank you.” Damien uttered weakly to the summon.

The fox’s eyes flickered once in acknowledgment before it turned its gaze toward Ivaan.

The general, meanwhile, had begun to advance, a cruel smirk twisting his face. “I don’t know what trick you’re trying, but it won’t—”

The words died in his throat.

Boooom!

A column of red light erupted between them. A pure, compressed essence that shattered the nearest trees and sent Ivaan flying backward. His armor cracked, blood splattering against the stones.

The fox had not moved.

It simply flicked its tail once.

Damien blinked, stunned by the sheer density of that single attack. Ivaan, a powerful being comparable to the Grade Two mama beasts he’d previously faced, if not more, had been thrown like a child.

The fox’s gaze lingered on the fallen man before it stepped past Damien, fur rippling. The healing light around Damien dimmed—it had already done enough.

Now came wrath.

Ivaan growled, pushing himself up from the dirt. His armor steamed from the heat of the blast, but he managed a dark chuckle. “A surprise attack… clever. But you’ll need more than that.”

He raised his hand, essence coalescing into a dark spear, but before he could launch it, the fox moved.

It didn’t run—it vanished.

A single blur of motion.

The ground cracked. The air boomed. Ivaan barely brought up his weapon in time as the fox reappeared before him, one paw the size of a man’s torso crashing down.

The impact tore the ground open, a shockwave rippling outward and uprooting trees like twigs. Ivaan’s weapon shattered instantly, his essence armor straining against the sheer force.

He screamed through clenched teeth as the claws raked across his chest. Blood sprayed into the air, burning on contact with the fox’s aura.

Still, he lived.

Barely.

The fox withdrew, lowering its head, fur bristling. Its body began to expand, each motion accompanied by a low rumbling growl that shook the forest.

The white fur along its spine darkened, bleeding into deep crimson. Its muscles swelled, its form distorting until it towered three meters tall.

Then, with a ripple like liquid flame, its tails began to split.

First four, then five… Until six new tails were added—each one wreathed in red light, moving independently, like living weapons.

The original three white tails glowed brighter, forming a halo around its body.

Damien felt his bond with it deepen, his chest aching under the strain of their shared energy. It’s still evolving… still remembering what it was.

The fox’s jaws parted, revealing rows of glinting fangs, and then—

—it roared.

The sound wasn’t just heard—it was felt. A pulse of raw spiritual pressure flattened the surrounding forest, scattering leaves, stones, and corpses alike.

Remaining birds fled from miles around. The Gate itself shuddered in response, the seals briefly flickering under the pressure.

Ivaan, for the first time, looked afraid.

He raised both hands, conjuring multiple barriers at once, dark runes glowing along his forearms. “You think this beast can stop me? I am Delwig’s strongest—”

The fox was already gone again.

This time, it appeared above him, tails whipping downward in unison.

The first struck his barrier, shattering it.

The second crushed his left shoulder.

The third slammed into his stomach, sending him sprawling.

He barely caught the fourth with a desperate burst of essence, but the fifth and sixth followed, slamming him through two trees before his body hit the ground and rolled.

He coughed blood, essence flickering erratically as he tried to rise again.

Damien stood where he was, fists clenched. He should have felt triumphant. But all he felt was cold.

He’d respected Ivaan. Trusted him. Even now, seeing him broken on the ground, a small part of him wished it wasn’t true—that the man who’d led Delwig’s warriors, who’d kept them safe, wasn’t the same monster who’d murdered Veyne and sought to unleash whatever hell was behind that gate.

But the truth was carved into the runes beneath their feet, written in blood and madness. Cracks covered all of its surface.

The fox halted a few paces ahead of him, looking back briefly.

For a moment, Damien could’ve sworn it was asking him something.

“End it,” he whispered.

The fox turned back toward Ivaan.

The general forced himself upright again, body trembling, blood pouring freely. “You… you have no idea what you’re doing,” he rasped, essence flaring weakly around him. “That Gate—what’s inside—it’s freedom! You can’t—”

A blur.

Then came a sound like thunder.

Then everything returned to perfect silence for a few seconds.

When the dust settled, the fox stood still, one claw extended. Ivaan was pinned to a tree, chest crushed, eyes wide but lifeless.

The glow of the runes flickered once, then faded completely. The unsealing spell caster had fallen.

Damien exhaled slowly, his knees nearly giving way.

The fox turned, padding toward him through the smoke and debris. Its size receded with every step, tails retracting until only three remained, white as snow once again.

When it reached him, it sat down, curling its tails neatly around its paws.

Damien met its gaze. “…You really are something.”

The fox tilted its head, and for a moment, its expression almost looked amused. Then it blinked, eyes closing as a faint shimmer passed over its body—its essence calming, its immense pressure fading.

In his mind, the pact bond pulsed gently. A single thought, not words exactly, but an impression of identity.

«Your Summon(Nine Tailed Fox – Grade Two) needs a name.»

He smiled faintly, despite everything. “Alright then… how about Lin?”

The fox’s tails twitched in acknowledgment. The bond solidified instantly, like a heartbeat syncing with his own.

The forest was silent again.

Behind them, the Gate loomed, its seals still intact but dimmed—cracks spider-webbing faintly across the surface as though weakened by all that had happened.

Damien looked up at it, his expression darkening. “You’re next,” he murmured. “I don’t know what you are… but I’ll make sure you stay sealed.”