SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

The faintest scrape of hinges reached Damien’s ears. His eyes opened instantly.

Through the slit of the half-open door, he caught the glimpse of Lyone’s figure slipping into the corridor, clutching a small pack.

Damien exhaled through his nose, not annoyed so much as weary. “That boy…”

He swung his legs off the bed, the cold stone floor grounding him. No rush. No panic. If Lyone was sneaking away, there was a reason—and more importantly, this just might serve as a very good opportunity to see how much the boy had grown.

He moved silently, trailing Lyone through the dim corridors and into the still, moonlit streets of Delwig.

The city had a heartbeat even at night—distant clatter from taverns, the shuffle of watch patrols—but here, in the abandoned quarter Lyone wandered into, silence reigned.

The boy stopped in what looked like an old training ground—cracked stone tiles, a ruined pillar, weeds crawling between cobbles.

He began to stretch, rolling his shoulders, loosening his wrists. Soon he launched into sword drills, swinging with deliberate repetition. His eyes strained at first, but he adapted, moving more confidently in the dark.

Damien lingered in shadow, arms folded. ‘He’s restless and so he wants to prove himself. But in this city, moving alone at night is no small risk…’

His thoughts proved prophetic.

From the alley, four figures emerged. Rough, weathered men, their clothes torn but their eyes sharp with the cruel cunning of survivors of the slums.

“Well, well,” one drawled, his voice like gravel. “If it isn’t the little pup we’ve seen running around with the soldiers.”

Lyone stiffened, lowering his blade slightly. “What do you want?”

Another man smirked, showing yellowed teeth. “What do we want? Boy, you should be asking what we don’t want. You’ve got good muscle for your age. Nice face too. You’d fetch a fine price—or serve well enough as an errand boy.”

They spread out, circling.

Lyone’s knuckles whitened around his blade. “And if I say no?”

The leader laughed, stepping close until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the boy. The stink of his breath filled the space. “Then we make it look like you did yourself in. No one will miss another stray. It’s easy in Delwig since the soldiers are quite busy with ‘more important’ stuff.”

Behind him, steel glinted as the others drew weapons—short swords and knives, all sharpened and ready.

The leader’s hand stretched toward Lyone’s shoulder, as if already claiming him. “So. What’s it going to be?”

Lyone’s answer was swift.

Bang!

Crack!

The snap of bone.

“Arghh! This little fucker!” The man screamed as his finger bent at an unnatural angle.

“Wrong choice of words,” Lyone said flatly.

The man swung wildly in rage, but Lyone pivoted, driving his elbow into ribs and hearing the crack of another bone made him elated.

Thud!

The man dropped to the ground in pain and Lyone wasted no time as he shifted to the next, ducking under a slash and driving his boot into a knee.

The third fell with a grunt, and the fourth found himself disarmed and sprawling in the dirt moments later.

Lyone’s chest heaved, his training evident in every strike. But his satisfaction faded quickly—because shadows moved again.

A dozen more men stepped from alleys and doorways, weapons in hand. These weren’t drunkards or amateurs—they were coordinated, their eyes glinting with intent.

Lyone’s jaw clenched. He raised his sword again, though his breathing was already ragged.

In the shadows above, Damien frowned. Slavers. Predators. They picked the wrong night.

He didn’t step forward. Instead, he whispered into the stillness. “Summon Luton.”

A ripple of essence, subtle and blue, and the Stellar Slime manifested beside him. Damien’s command was simple. “Trap them all, but do not devour any.”

Luton’s form oozed forward silently, darting along walls and slipping across the cracked ground until it reached Lyone.

The boy froze briefly when the slime climbed his leg and perched atop his head like a grotesque crown.

Then Lyone grinned.

Damien’s lips twitched faintly. ‘It seems he understands that I’m watching. Good.’

The men hesitated, unnerved by the sudden appearance of the bizarre creature. One snarled, “What the hell is that thing?”

Lyone didn’t answer. He shifted his grip, heart pounding but eyes sharp. ‘Damien’s here. He’s watching. I can’t waste this chance.’

The slavers surged forward.

Lyone moved. He slipped past the first blade, dragging his sword across a thigh before smashing his pommel into the attacker’s jaw.

Bang!

The man crumpled—and instantly, Luton engulfed him, trapping him within a gelatinous prison before dragging him aside.

The second came from the left. Lyone parried, sparks flying, then kicked low to send the man stumbling back. Luton stretched, snagging him with a whip-like tendril and pulling him into its grasp.

The sight rattled the others, but desperation overruled fear. They charged in twos and threes.

Lyone’s world narrowed to motion—steel ringing, sweat dripping, muscles screaming. He thought of Apnoch’s drills, of being struck down again and again until he rose without hesitation. He channeled that memory, striking, dodging, breaking through.

Every foe that fell was swallowed by the waiting slime, stored harmlessly but utterly neutralized.

Minutes stretched like hours. By the time the last man staggered back, only to collapse under Lyone’s final swing, the ground was littered with unconscious bodies slick with Luton’s residue.

Lyone dropped to one knee, chest heaving, his arms trembling with exertion.

The slime gave a satisfied burble and slithered back, returning to Damien’s side unseen.

Damien finally stepped from the shadows, his figure calm, his expression unreadable. Lyone looked up at him, sweat-streaked and flushed with adrenaline.

“I… I didn’t lose,” Lyone panted. His voice was shaky, but his eyes burned with pride.

Damien regarded him in silence for a long moment, then nodded once. “You didn’t. You did well.”

The words landed like a medal pinned to the boy’s chest.

“Hehe… I guess that was enough to finally earn a praise, huh?” Lyone forced a grin even in his exhausted position.