SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

The celebration in Westmont stretched far into the night, but even as the first light of dawn touched the horizon, the echoes of laughter and song still lingered in the air.

The town had earned its moment of joy, and after everything they had endured, they indulged without restraint.

The mugs of ale didn't stop moving around as men and women drank to their fill. None of them had plans to leave.

By morning, almost every warrior and mercenary lay fast asleep, their bodies finally succumbing to exhaustion.

The streets were littered with discarded mugs, half-eaten meals, and the occasional unconscious drunk who hadn't quite made it to a proper resting place.

In fact, over eighty percent of them hadn't gotten a proper resting place. They were all scattered around the celebration area, sleeping and snoring happily.

Damien, however, was not among them.

Sleep had not come for him. At least, not yet.

He stood near the entrance of the Mercenary Guild, watching the peaceful rise and fall of Arielle's chest as she lay curled up on one of the benches outside.

Arielle had celebrated as fiercely as any of them, but the fatigue had claimed her before she could reach her quarters and because he'd spent most of the night with Lord Ellian, he couldn't spend time with Arielle and so she'd drank until she fell asleep.

Damien exhaled, shaking his head with amusement. 'She really doesn't know when to stop.'

Moving with quiet steps, he bent down and gently lifted her into his arms. She stirred slightly but did not wake, merely shifting to get comfortable against his chest. "Let's get you to a proper bed. You deserve that much."

Damien carried her inside the Mercenary guild building, maneuvering through the lit halls until he reached her room.

Pushing open the door, Damien stepped inside and laid her down carefully on the bed. She let out a soft sigh, turning to the side, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind. "Thank you." She said, half asleep without even taking a glance at him.

Damien nodded, his mind going elsewhere.

Lord Raegon was definitely not the type of man to accept defeat. Damien believed so.

Everything about him—his arrogance, his ambition—spoke of someone who would never let go of a grudge.

The battle may have ended in Westmont's victory, but Damien knew better than to believe that Raegon had given up. The man was a weed that needed to be ripped out at the root. If left alone, he would return, likely with greater force.

Damien couldn't allow that.

His time in Westmont had been short, but it had already become a home to him. The people had accepted him without question. They had fought beside him, trusted him, and even celebrated him. That was not something he would take lightly.

He had made a decision.

Damien turned toward a small table in the corner of the room and pulled out a piece of parchment. He dipped a quill in ink and began to write.

"Arielle,

I promised you I wouldn't disappear without warning again, so I'm keeping that promise. By the time you wake, I'll already be gone. There's something I need to take care of—something that, if left alone, will bring trouble back to Westmont.

I know you won't like it, but trust me when I say this is the only way. I'll return when it's done.

- Damien."

Placing the letter on her bedside table, Damien took one last glance at Arielle before turning toward the door. He stepped out silently, making his way through the empty guild hall and into the streets.

The town was eerily quiet. A few early risers were beginning their day, sweeping the roads, tending to their livestock, but the warriors were still deep in sleep.

Good.

Damien's next destination was Lord Ellian's manor. If there was anyone still awake at this hour, it would be him.

Sure enough, as Damien stepped onto the manor's grounds, he found Lord Ellian standing outside, staring at the battlefield beyond the town walls. His expression was contemplative, but when he heard Damien's footsteps, he turned to face him.

"You're not here to talk about the celebration," Ellian observed.

Damien nodded. "I need a map to Velthorne."

Ellian's gaze lingered on him for a long moment before he sighed. "I thought you might say that."

He didn't ask why. He didn't try to argue against it. He knew Damien well enough to understand what he intended. Instead, he simply turned and motioned for Damien to follow.

Inside the manor, Ellian led him to a war room, where maps of various territories were spread across a large table. He scanned through them before pulling one free and handing it to Damien.

"This will take you directly to Velthorne," Ellian said. "It's the most updated version we have."

Damien took it without hesitation. "Thank you."

Ellian studied him carefully. "You know you don't have to do this alone."

Damien shook his head. "If I bring an army, it'll be a full-scale war. If I go alone, I can finish this quietly."

Ellian sighed. "I'll explain to Arielle when she wakes."

"I appreciate it."

Without another word, Damien turned and left the manor, the map tucked securely into his coat. He had what he needed.

As he made his way toward the outskirts of town, the remnants of the previous battle still remained.

The ashes of the burned corpses from the day before had begun to scatter, carried away by the wind. Soon, there would be no trace of the enemies who had once threatened Westmont.

And soon, there would be no trace of Lord Raegon either.

Damien reached into his summoning space and called forth Skylar, his Grade Four wyvern. The massive beast appeared before him, wings folding tightly against its body as it lowered its head in greeting.

Without hesitation, Damien swung himself onto its back.

"Velthorne," he ordered.

Skylar let out a low growl before spreading its wings wide and launching into the air.

The ground fell away beneath them as they ascended, Westmont growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

The hunt had begun.