SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 321 - 321: The Search Begins
Damien didn’t remember when sleep claimed him. One minute, he was sitting at the edge of his bed, watching the shadows outside the window lengthen; the next, he was being jostled awake by small but persistent hands.
“Damien,” Lyone’s voice came quietly, just beside his ear. “It’s almost dawn.”
“Ughh…” A groggy grunt escaped Damien’s lips before his eyes fully opened. The faint blue hue of early morning filtered through the curtains, washing the room in a colorless calm.
He blinked, brain foggy, then sighed heavily.
He didn’t know whether to thank Lyone for waking him or curse the boy for disturbing what little rest he’d managed. He had slept later than planned. But not nearly long enough.
He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff from sleeping in a slouched position. “Next time,” he muttered, “wake me thirty minutes later and just tell me I have five minutes left.”
Lyone chuckled. “You’d still sleep through that.”
Damien sat up, pushing aside his cloak and reaching for the fresh linen laid over a nearby chair. “You might be right.”
Just then, a brief knock sounded—two quick taps—and the door creaked open. Arielle stepped inside before waiting for a reply.
“You two still not ready?” she asked, eyebrows raised, arms folded. Her tone was that of a commander, not a friend.
Damien glanced up at her with one eye half open. “If Lyone hadn’t woken me, I might still be dreaming.”
She sighed. “Well, you’re awake now. Go wash up. We’re almost at the hour.”
Damien pushed himself up, stretching slightly before replying, “I’ve sorted everything else. Our gear’s accounted for and the summons are ready.”
“Then get moving,” Arielle said, jerking her thumb toward the hall. “You’ve got maybe twenty minutes before we hit the sky.”
Damien walked off toward the private bath, muttering something about stubborn women and early mornings.
Arielle rolled her eyes and turned to Lyone. “He always complains this much?”
Lyone shrugged. “He didn’t complain yesterday.”
“That’s because yesterday he had wine and a quiet bed,” she smirked. “Not the pressure of a journey without a known end. Or maybe that’s not the issue at all.”
Lyone nodded. “I’ve only been with him for two days. I don’t think that’s an issue thatl have him complaining.”
By the time Damien returned from the bath, he looked and felt like a new person. His long silver hair, wet and brushed back, now reached his shoulders in layered strands.
Normally, he would’ve trimmed it by now, but something about the way it fell along his collar felt right—like it belonged there.
His coat was freshly dusted, and his silver vambraces shimmered faintly with essence reinforcement lines, pulsing gently as if sensing the day ahead.
Arielle was already seated at the table in his room, examining a rolled scroll with a soft smile on her lips.
“You clean up nicely,” she said as he stepped inside.
“I feel half-alive now,” Damien replied, dragging a towel down his neck. “That’ll have to do.”
He glanced at the scroll. “Is that what I think it is?”
“A real map,” she said, rolling it open carefully across the table.
Damien approached, his eyes quickly scanning the parchment. It was aged but expertly preserved—rich in color and etched with detailed markings. Roads, mountains, cities, trade routes, monster territories, even the boundaries of ancient battlegrounds.
“Where are we headed first?” he asked, placing a finger lightly against the middle.
“Ryedale,” Arielle answered. “Then south across the Greshan Path to the Kingdom of Delwig.”
Damien squinted slightly. “Delwig… never heard of it.”
“Most people haven’t,” she replied. “It used to be part of an Empire before they collapsed. Now it’s an isolated kingdom with its own laws and… its own secrets.”
He was quiet for a beat, processing.
And then it clicked.
“The missing piece,” Damien murmured. “That’s what I forgot. I don’t have a proper map. The ones I got from those traffickers are trash compared to this.”
Arielle chuckled. “Good thing I remembered to grab it. This version came from a Delwig merchant ten years ago. They haven’t updated their borders since, so it’s still accurate enough for our purposes.”
She tapped the far southern end of the kingdom’s border, near a tangled mass of ridgelines and forest paths. “Our search begins here.”
Damien nodded slowly. “Right. No more delays.”
By the time the sun had begun peeking over the eastern hills, painting the rooftops of Westmont gold, the trio stood at the town’s southern gate.
Neraya waited there, the infant in her arms bundled tightly in a wool cloak. She was flanked by two junior mercenaries who had been handpicked by her to assist with day-to-day guild management.
She smiled as she saw them approach. “I half expected you to sneak off in the night.”
“Was tempted,” Damien replied even though he’d been the one to wake last among the three of them.
“I wouldn’t have let him,” Arielle added.
Lyone smiled up at Neraya and the baby. “I’ll miss him.”
“You’ll see him again,” Neraya said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her son’s face. “Just don’t bring him back a sword instead of a gift.”
They shared a short hug, and then Neraya stepped back.
“Take care of each other,” she said. “And try not to start a war.”
“No promises,” Damien said.
With a final nod, he raised his hand.
“Summon Aquila.”
The sky shimmered as a swirling blue portal opened above the courtyard. The Griffin emerged with a mighty cry, wings spread wide, talons scraping the stone as it landed with regal force.
“There goes your ride.” Damien pointed out.
Arielle nodded and mounted first, adjusting her satchel as she swung herself into place.
Then Damien turned.
“Summon Skylar.”
The wind shifted as a second portal opened behind them. From the churning vortex emerged Skylar, the Shadowfang Wyvern, his glowing eyes settling briefly on Damien before lowering his head.
Lyone climbed onto Skylar’s back with practiced ease, settling just behind Damien, who strapped his gear tightly.
They turned back to the gate one last time. Neraya waved, the baby resting quietly in her arms. The guards saluted.
And then—
Damien looked east.
The sun had fully risen, casting long shadows and golden light across the town’s streets and the forests beyond.
“Let’s go,” he said.
With a beat of wings, Aquila rose first, catching the sunlight in her feathers. Skylar followed, a gust of shadow trailing behind his ascent.
Together, they rose above Westmont.
And without another word, the trio disappeared into the horizon—headed for Ryedale, for Delwig, and for answers written in places far darker than any map could show.
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