SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 313 - 313: A Talent Holder
Morning didn’t arrive with warmth.
There were no sunbeams slicing through the curtains, no cheerful birdsong, and no knock from Arielle reminding Damien of whatever meeting she had planned.
Instead, it arrived with the sound of rapid knocking.
Followed by an uninvited voice.
“Damien?” Lyone called out from the other side of the door. “Are you awake?”
Damien stirred under the covers with a long exhale, one eye cracking open, irritation trailing just behind consciousness.
A pause.
Then more knocking. “Damien, can I come in?”
The door creaked open without waiting for an answer.
“I’m coming in.”
“I noticed,” Damien muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he sat up, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. His hair was messy from sleep, and the only thing he wore was a pair of dark shorts that hung loose around his hips.
Lyone entered the room and paused, clearly surprised to find Damien still in bed, half-naked, and less composed than usual.
“I—uh—I was wondering if we could go out today,” Lyone said, standing awkwardly by the door.
Damien blinked. “Why?”
“Well, I want to see the town,” Lyone replied, stepping further inside. “I mean… everyone knows you. People wave at you. And the place looks nice.”
He hesitated. “I just want to see it all. Walk around. Figure out how far your reputation goes.”
Damien chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You really do ask for a lot of things early in the morning.”
Lyone gave a sheepish grin. “So…?”
“I’ve got plans,” Damien said, pulling his legs off the bed. “Later today, Arielle and I are going to see the Town Lord.”
Lyone’s face fell slightly. “Oh. Right.”
He hesitated, then asked, “Could I go out on my own, then?”
Damien didn’t answer right away.
He rose to his feet slowly, stretching, his back cracking once. He walked over to the small table and grabbed the wooden chair beside it, dragging it back to the bed.
“Sit,” Damien said.
Lyone blinked. “Huh?”
“I said sit. On the bed.”
The boy obeyed without argument, climbing up onto the edge of the mattress as Damien spun the chair around and dropped into it, resting his arms on the headrest, chin propped lazily atop them.
He locked eyes with Lyone.
“I’m leaving this town soon,” Damien said. “But whether you’re coming with me… depends.”
Lyone’s posture straightened.
“Depends on what?”
“On the answers you give me now,” Damien said. “If I don’t like them—or if I think you’re not ready—you’ll stay here. With the Town Lord.”
Lyone tensed instantly. “But—”
“Stop,” Damien cut in. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m not saying no. But if I’m taking you along, I need to know what I’m bringing.”
Lyone looked down at his hands, then clenched them.
“I’ll answer. Anything. Honestly.”
Damien studied him carefully. Then, with that steady calm of his, he asked the first question.
“What you told me before—about your village, your mother. All true?”
Lyone nodded. “Every word.”
“You’ve got no reason to lie to me?”
“You’re the only person I trust right now,” Lyone said. “I don’t even trust the lady who gave me a room. Just you.”
Damien nodded slowly. “Alright. Then let’s dig deeper.”
He leaned forward just slightly.
“How did you spot me flying over your village?”
Lyone blinked. “I—I don’t know. I saw you. Your Dragon flew past the trees, and something clicked. I saw the shimmer in the air, the wings, your hair.”
“It’s not a Dragon, it’s a Wyvern.” Damien corrected him.
“Yes, your Wyvern, Skylar flew past and I saw it.” Lyone nodded.
“At that speed?” Damien asked. “Skylar moves faster than any aerial creature.”
Lyone nodded slowly. “I know. But I’d… been seeing things differently since the ritual.”
Damien narrowed his eyes. “What ritual?”
“My mother did it. Before she died,” Lyone said quietly. “She used to say I was special, and one day, people would come after me. So before the village could kill her, she did something. She placed her hand over my heart and chanted. It hurt. My whole body burned. And since then… time moves weird sometimes.”
“Weird how?”
“Sometimes it slows down. Or speeds up. Like… I can see things that are too fast for everyone else.”
Damien exhaled sharply.
So that was it.
The Talent Awakening Ritual.
Only the bloodlines of the Fated Families could perform such a thing—and even then, only on their own kin.
Talents weren’t random. They were ancient, inherited, tied to specific families. Everyone could use magic essence if trained. But Talents—those were rare. Unique. Born into blood.
And Lyone had one.
Which meant his mother wasn’t just some herbalist who got branded as a witch.
She was someone.
Damien’s mind clicked rapidly, shifting his line of questioning.
“What continent was she from?”
Lyone shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Did she say anything about her family? Her past?”
“No. She said it wasn’t safe. That people would come if they knew.”
“Describe her,” Damien said. “Eyes. Hair. Skin. Anything.”
Lyone paused.
“Her hair was pitch black. Not grey. Silver like yours. But longer. And her eyes were… green. Emerald green. With rings around the irises.”
Damien’s posture shifted subtly.
Emerald Green with rings.
Only one family would have that trait but Damien didn’t know it.
Arielle’s voice cut through the air as the door swung open.
“What’s with the tension in here?” she asked, then blinked at the sight of them—Lyone sitting on the bed stiffly, Damien shirtless and leaning forward like an interrogator.
“And why,” she added, “are you two only half dressed?”
Lyone jumped. “It’s not what it looks like!”
Damien sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.
“We were talking.”
“Mmhm.” Arielle raised an eyebrow. “With that intensity? Either it was a life lesson or a criminal confession.”
“Family history,” Damien said, rising from the chair. “Trying to figure out which bloodline the kid belongs to.”
Arielle folded her arms. “So he’s a Talent Holder?”
Damien nodded. “Confirmed.”
Arielle let out a breath. “That explains a lot.”
Lyone blinked. “Wait… what’s a bloodline?”
Both of them looked at him.
Damien groaned. “We need breakfast.”
Arielle smirked. “Agreed. Then we’re seeing the Town Lord.”
“After he gets pants on,” she added, walking off.
Damien stood slowly, his eyes still lingering on Lyone.
Silver hair. Green-ringed eyes.
One of the Fated Families.
But which one?
He’d get answers eventually.
But first—breakfast, and diplomacy.
