SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 421 421: She'll Want To Know
Ivaan released him, shaking his head as though amused despite himself. “Then go. Prepare all you’ll need while you can. In about an hour, the tunnels will welcome you.”
Damien gave a lazy salute, rising from his chair as Apnoch moved to escort him back.
As they stepped into the cooling air of the courtyard, Damien tilted his head toward the captain. “You realize, Apnoch, this little adventure means you’ll be playing babysitter again.”
Apnoch shot him a sidelong look. “If you stray too far, don’t expect me to drag your corpse back.”
Damien grinned. “Good thing I don’t plan on dying.”
But inside, his thoughts whispered differently.
The tunnels would not just hold beasts. They would hold answers.
And Damien was ready to drag them out, one masked corpse at a time.
~~~~~
~Muffled~
The fifteen meter deep tunnel swallowed the sound of them landing inside of it.
Damien’s boots pressed into the damp earth, torchlight licking the walls as he and Apnoch’s squad moved deeper into the underground path. The air smelled faintly of rot and metal, stained with an extra presence Damien recognized all too well—demonic essence.
The soldiers marched with discipline, blades drawn, shields raised, yet their steps were careful and measured.
Apnoch walked just ahead of Damien, silent but alert, his eyes scanning every crack in the rock. Fenrir padded noiselessly at Damien’s side, White fur shimmering faintly as he suppressed his aura at Damien’s order.
“So quiet,” one soldier muttered.
“Too quiet,” Damien corrected, his tone mild but edged. “If beasts carved these tunnels, you’d expect some leftover spoor. Scratches, bones, even dried blood. But…” He trailed a gloved hand along the wall. “This looks cleaned.”
“Cleaned?” Apnoch echoed.
Damien nodded. “Not by beasts. By people.”
The squad stiffened. Soldiers exchanged wary glances, and the weight of Damien’s words pressed in like the earth above their heads.
They pushed deeper, reaching what appeared to be a fork. One tunnel stretched straight ahead, the other slanted sharply upward, leading back toward Delwig’s outer districts. The faint scent of burned wax and metal clung to the left wall, and Damien crouched, studying it.
A magic rune. Faint, almost erased, but still humming faintly with demonic essence.
“Same as before,” Damien murmured. “This wasn’t natural. Someone built these tunnels, used them as staging grounds, then wiped them clean.”
Apnoch’s jaw tightened. “They left nothing?”
“Nothing they didn’t want us to find,” Damien said. His lips quirked in a humorless grin. “That’s the real danger. Whoever’s orchestrating this knows how to cover tracks.”
The squad searched for hours, checking alcoves, prying loose stones, scouring for signs of nests. They found remnants of chains bolted into rock, stains that could have been dried blood, and the faintest imprints of claw marks—yet no bodies, no beasts. It was as if the tunnels had been evacuated just before they entered.
Finally, Apnoch called a halt. His men were weary, some covered in dust, all unsettled. “Nothing. Whoever was here cleared out long before we arrived.”
Damien remained crouched near the claw marks, thoughtful. His fingers brushed the stone before he stood. “They knew we’d come. The ambush yesterday wasn’t just to cause chaos—it was a smokescreen. They bought time to empty their nest.”
Apnoch swore under his breath. “Which means…”
“They’ll strike again,” Damien finished for him, voice calm but certain. “And next time, they won’t just dig under Delwig. They’ll dig under trust as well.”
The squad exchanged uneasy glances.
“Pull the men out,” Apnoch ordered. “Collapse the tunnels where possible. We’ll report what we’ve found—what little that is.”
As they began retreating toward the surface, Damien cast one last glance into the dark. He couldn’t shake the sense that masked eyes were watching from deeper within, patient and calculating.
“Cancel Fenrir’s summon.” He ordered his system. Fenrir growled low in agreement before fading back into essence.
Back above ground, the world had already shifted.
Arielle and Lyone returned to their lodging early into the afternoon, bags of food in hand. The city was calmer than it had been in days, soldiers patrolling with sharpened focus, yet the lingering whispers of the ambush kept citizens wary.
When Arielle opened the door, her smile faltered. The room was quiet. Too quiet.
“Damien?” she called. No answer.
Lyone set down the bag and scanned the space. No note, no hint of where their companion had gone. Only the faint trace of his essence lingering, already fading.
Arielle frowned, a crease forming between her brows. “He wouldn’t just leave without saying something.”
Lyone hesitated, masking the flicker of recognition that crossed his mind. He remembered Damien’s words at breakfast, the way he’d fist-bumped him, the lingering seriousness in his eyes. Damien had definitely left with a purpose.
But Arielle… she didn’t know yet.
“Maybe he’s with Apnoch,” Lyone offered lightly, though his chest tightened with guilt. “He’ll be back soon.”
She sighed, clearly unconvinced, and busied herself with unpacking supplies. Lyone excused himself, saying he needed to wash.
Inside the small washroom, he splashed his face with cold water, his mind racing. Damien was gone—into the tunnels, no doubt. Lyone could feel it. His mentor had gone to do something dangerous, something he hadn’t wanted them involved in.
When he emerged, Arielle was still distracted, humming softly as she organized food into neat rows. Lyone forced a grin.
“I’m going to train a bit,” he said, grabbing his blade.
She gave him a distracted nod. “Don’t stay out too late.”
The moment the door closed behind him, Lyone’s expression hardened. He wasn’t going to train. Not today.
The city streets were quieter after yesterday’s incident as guards patrolled the main routes. Lyone walked with purpose, hood drawn low, making his way toward the military quarter.
The soldiers at General Ivaan’s headquarters recognized him instantly. “Ah, Damien’s younger brother,” one said, stepping aside without hesitation. “What brings you here at this hour?”
Lyone smiled politely. “My sister asked me to fetch him. Is he inside?”
The guard glanced toward the hall, then shook his head. “Not here. General Ivaan sent him on assignment. He’s inspecting the tunnels from yesterday’s breach.”
Lyone’s heart kicked against his ribs, though outwardly he only nodded. “I see. Thank you.”
The guard waved him through, but Lyone declined with a shake of his head. “I’ll go tell my sister. She’ll want to know.”
