SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 461 461: Decisions
By the time Damien and Apnoch returned to the training yard, the sun was already sinking behind the city’s western walls.
Warm orange light bled through the clouds, painting long shadows across the worn stone and scattered training dummies around the training area.
The camp was quiet for once, save for the faint shuffling sounds of someone’s movements. The soft thud of boots striking earth. The faint hiss of air being cut by a blade.
Damien stopped halfway across the yard.
Lyone was there, stripped down to his undershirt, sweat streaking his face. His hands gripped a wooden staff as he moved through a sequence of strikes. It started slow at first, then faster, sharper, until his movements blurred into a flow of practiced precision.
Each twist made him wince, but he didn’t stop. His bones still hadn’t fully recovered, yet his expression was steady, eyes locked ahead. He did look determined.
Apnoch let out a low whistle. “Kid doesn’t know when to quit.”
Arielle, who had been sitting by the fire pit sharpening her short sword, looked up with a small smile. “He’s stubborn. I’ve told him to rest three times since you guys left, but he won’t.”
Damien crossed his arms, watching silently. The boy’s breathing was uneven, his footing still off-balance from pain, but his form was improving. It wasn’t about perfection. It was about resolve.
Finally, Lyone noticed them and paused mid-swing, lowering his staff. “Captain. Damien.” His voice came rough, strained. “Did the meeting go well?”
Apnoch shrugged. “We’re alive, fed, and apparently welcome. That’s more than I expected.”
Damien nodded. “The city lord’s cautious, but fair. For now, that’s enough.”
Lyone smiled faintly, though exhaustion softened it. “That’s good to hear.”
“Enough training for today,” Arielle said, rising. “If you tear something again, I’m not healing you.”
He grinned sheepishly, setting the staff aside. “Yes, ma’am.”
Damien turned to the others. “Let’s talk.”
They gathered inside one of the larger tents at the edge of the yard. A single lantern hung from a pole in the center, casting a warm, flickering glow across their faces.
Outside, the muffled sounds of the city drifted in, the bark of merchants closing shop, the distant chatter of guards.
Apnoch poured water into four metal cups, passing them around before sitting heavily on a crate. “So,” he said, “what now? Lord Merith’s made it clear we’re welcome, but that doesn’t mean we stay forever.”
Damien nodded slowly. “That’s what we need to decide.”
Arielle leaned back, her expression calm but sharp. “You already know what you want, don’t you?”
Damien met her gaze without hesitation. “Yes.”
He placed his cup down, the soft clink echoing in the quiet tent. “Delwig’s gone. The Gate is sealed—but I don’t think it’s now stable. That kind of crack doesn’t heal on its own.
Whatever caused it, whatever twisted the general into what he became… that’s not over. And I’m not staying here pretending it is.”
Apnoch frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think the Gate was tied to the demons, don’t you?”
“I don’t think,” Damien said, his voice low and certain. “I know. The corruption we saw—the black essence, the beasts’ frenzy—it’s all the same. We’ve been fighting symptoms, not the source.”
Silence hung for a moment as the weight of his words settled.
Arielle was the first to speak. “You plan to go after the source, then.”
Damien nodded once. “We need to find where the demons come from. If the cracks are spreading, we can’t keep waiting for them to reach us. We go first.”
Apnoch gave a tired chuckle. “Always forward, huh?”
Damien’s eyes glimmered faintly in the lantern light. “There’s no other direction worth taking.”
Apnoch sighed, leaning back. “You’ve got that look again—the one that says ‘let’s walk into hell and hope it’s worth it.'”
Arielle smiled faintly. “It usually is.”
Damien glanced her way. “And you?”
“You don’t need to ask,” she said simply, her tone steady but warm. “You already know my answer. You’re heading into danger, and you’ll need someone who knows the paths. You said it yourself—this isn’t over.” Her lips curved slightly. “Besides, today isn’t ‘whenever.'”
Damien’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Fair enough.”
Apnoch looked between the two of them and groaned softly. “You’re both insane.”
“That’s why it works,” Arielle replied.
He gave her a mock glare, then exhaled deeply. “And what about me, then? You expect me to just sit here while you two run off after nightmares?”
“No,” Damien said. “But you have people here who need you. Survivors. Soldiers. They’ll listen to you before anyone else.”
Apnoch’s gaze hardened. “You’re saying I should stay.”
“I’m saying you should lead,” Damien replied evenly. “Delwig’s gone, but it doesn’t have to be forgotten. Rebuild what you can. Keep them alive. That’s your fight now.”
The older man didn’t answer right away. His fingers drummed against his cup, eyes distant. Finally, he sighed. “I hate when you make sense.”
Arielle chuckled softly. “It’s rare, so enjoy it.”
Apnoch threw her a look, but it lacked any real heat. “Fine. But you’d better come back in one piece, both of you.”
Damien nodded. “We will.”
The tent fell quiet for a moment, the sound of the city fading into the hum of the night. The lantern’s flame wavered, its light drawing long shadows across their faces.
Then—voices. A shout, followed by laughter. Then the unmistakable clang of metal meeting metal.
Damien’s head lifted immediately.
“…That didn’t sound like laughter,” Apnoch muttered, already standing.
Arielle rose beside him, hand on her sword. “Outside?”
“Outside,” Damien confirmed.
They moved as one.
The moment they stepped out, the air hit them—a mix of dust and excitement. A crowd had gathered near the open section of the yard. Soldiers and civilians stood in a loose circle, shouting encouragement and jeers alike.
In the middle of it, two figures clashed—one smaller, fast, the other broad-shouldered and armored.
Lyone.
He ducked under a heavy swing, staff snapping forward in a blur, cracking against the guard’s breastplate. The soldier staggered back with a grunt, then grinned. “Not bad, boy! Again!”
Lyone obliged, spinning the staff and rushing in low. The two traded blows with surprising precision—quick, clean, practiced. It wasn’t a brawl. It was a duel.
Apnoch groaned under his breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Arielle folded her arms, eyebrow raised. “He’s fighting?”
Damien’s expression didn’t change, but his voice carried easily over the crowd. “Stop.”
The word cut through the noise like a blade. The shouts faltered. Lyone froze mid-swing, the staff hovering inches from his opponent’s chest.
The guard looked between Damien and Apnoch, uncertain. “Sir?”
“Step back,” Damien said.
The man obeyed instantly.
Lyone lowered his staff, breathing hard, sweat dripping from his chin. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” Apnoch crossed his arms. “Because it looks exactly like you starting a fight.”
“It’s a spar,” the guard said quickly, raising both hands. “He asked for it, Captain. Said he wanted to test his footing again. I didn’t think there’d be harm in it.”
Damien’s gaze swept over the gathered men. “And the cheering?”
The guard looked sheepish. “Motivation?”
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, to everyone’s surprise, Damien sighed quietly. “Next time,” he said, “you ask before you start a match. If you can stand, you can speak.”
Lyone nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
Apnoch shook his head, muttering under his breath. “We leave him alone for one hour…”
Arielle, however, was smiling faintly. “At least he’s moving again. I’ll take that over moping.”
Damien’s gaze softened slightly. “So will I.”
The crowd began to disperse, murmuring and laughing again. The tension eased, replaced by the comfortable hum of routine. Lyone leaned on his staff, still catching his breath.
“Sorry,” he said quietly when the others approached. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just… needed to move.”
Damien nodded. “You’re healing fast.”
“Trying to,” Lyone said. “Can’t get better by sitting still.”
“Spoken like a soldier,” Apnoch muttered approvingly.
Lyone smiled faintly. “Guess I had good teachers.”
That earned a snort from Arielle. “You have stubborn teachers.”
Damien turned toward the fading sunset, the last rays brushing the city walls in crimson light. “Stubbornness keeps people alive.”
For a moment, the four of them stood there, side by side, the wind brushing past in gentle waves. The sound of the city pulsed beyond the walls—life moving forward, even after everything.
Apnoch finally broke the silence. “So what’s next, Damien? When do you plan to move?”
“Soon,” Damien said. His tone was quiet, but there was iron beneath it. “Once the others are ready.”
Arielle’s eyes met his. “We’ll be ready.”
Lyone’s expression hardened with determination. “So will I.”
Apnoch sighed. “Then I guess I’d better make sure this city’s still standing when you get back.”
Damien gave a faint nod, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Do that.”
The evening breeze carried their words into the dimming sky, along with the faint echo of laughter from the guards as they resumed their training.
For now, peace held. But everyone there knew—it wouldn’t last.
