SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts - Chapter 262

Chapter 262: A Talking Demon?
Damien’s room was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wooden bed as Damien shifted restlessly.

No matter how much he tried to calm his mind, sleep refused to come.

His thoughts drifted—Westmont, the Teleportation Array, Lizella’s promise, and Queen Lareen’s words. But beyond those matters, there was something else.

A restlessness inside him.

A quiet but persistent urge, like an itch beneath his skin that refused to be ignored. Finally, after an hour of tossing and turning, Damien sat up with a sigh. ‘This is pointless.’

Rising from the bed, he stretched his arms before heading toward the window. The night air, cool and crisp, beckoned. He could already hear the distant sounds of the city, muffled by the stone walls.

The door was locked, a security measure for rented rooms, but that didn’t matter to him.

With ease, Damien slid the window open and, without a moment’s hesitation, climbed out onto the ledge.

The night was calm, the only sound being the gentle rustling of leaves. Below, the streets of Velhast stretched out, dimly lit by lanterns swaying in the wind. The city felt different at night—quiet, almost serene, but also suffocating.

Damien needed a break.

He stood on the edge of the window, gauging the distance to the ground. His eyes flicked to the guards patrolling below. They weren’t paying attention to his room; a distraction on the other side would be enough.

Damien jumped down effortlessly, landing lightly on the cobblestones with barely a sound.

Tap!

His boots absorbed the impact with ease, and he quickly straightened, dusting himself off.

The outer gates were still open; the night shift guards watched as the usual late-night travelers moved in and out. But Damien had no intention of sticking around the city. The air felt stifling, and the night seemed to stretch on without end.

With no hesitation, Damien walked toward the gates, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

When the guards saw him, one of them narrowed his eyes. “You heading out this late?” one of the guards asked, raising an eyebrow.

Damien pulled out his badge—the insignia of the Mercenary Association. “Hunting,” he said simply. “I can’t sleep.”

The guards exchanged a look but didn’t question him further. They had seen more than enough mercenaries coming and going at all hours of the day. With a grunt, they stepped aside.

“Your call,” one of them muttered. “Just don’t cause any trouble.”

Damien didn’t say another word. He stepped past them and, with the moonlight casting long shadows on the ground, disappeared into the night.

The wilderness greeted him as he passed through the city gates and into the vast, open plains that stretched out before him.

The night air was cool but refreshing, and for the first time in a while, he felt free—free from the worries of royal summons and expectations.

The city, with its walls and constraints, felt like a distant memory now. The wild lands outside the city held an allure all their own.

Damien breathed deeply, letting the crispness fill his lungs. It was time to clear his mind.

The moonlight painted the world in silvery hues, and Damien found solace in the solitude. But it was also a time to think, to reflect, and to prepare for whatever came next.

His mind wandered back to Westmont—his destination, though he had no real idea of what to expect when he arrived. It was time to move forward, time to stop lingering on the past. But for now, the restless itch he couldn’t shake was still there, gnawing at him.

And so, he decided to hunt.

Mercenaries like him didn’t often take to the wilderness without a reason. But tonight, the hunt wasn’t about filling his pockets with coins or cores—it was about the need to move, to do something to expel this restless energy from his body.

Not far from the city was a dungeon, an ancient formation that had long been abandoned by most adventurers. Some dungeons were small and easily navigated.

Others, however, were treacherous—filled with dangerous creatures and powerful magic that had festered there for centuries.

This one had caught his attention. It was close, and though it had been partially cleared, it still promised a challenge. After all, that’s what he needed most right now.

The dungeon was known for its dangerous creatures—stronger than most, and with enough dangerous mana around to fuel their power.

Grade Three creatures, the guards had warned, indicating the level of difficulty. A Titanfang Bear, Magma Beetles, and Stone Serpents had all been sighted within its walls.

But Damien wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. The thought of testing his strength against these creatures was enough to stir his excitement. And so, with Aquila summoned at his side, he flew toward the dungeon.

The entrance was a rocky outcrop, marked by several jagged stones protruding from the earth. A cool, eerie wind blew from within, and the faint sound of something scurrying echoed through the air. It was a dungeon unlike any Damien had encountered recently—foreboding and alive.

He dismounted Aquila, who settled nearby, its massive wings folding against its back. The dungeon’s entrance loomed before him, dark and treacherous. But Damien didn’t hesitate. He took a step forward, his blade unsheathed, ready for whatever lay ahead.

The interior was like a labyrinth, winding corridors that led to open chambers. On the first few levels, Damien encountered mana beasts—wild, primal creatures that were simply part of the dungeon’s natural ecosystem.

Level One: A pack of Rockfang Wolves. Their thick, rocky hides made them resilient, but Damien was faster. A few well-placed strikes, and they were down.

Level Two: Stone Serpents, their scales like armor. These beasts slithered through the cracks in the walls, but Damien’s agility and swordplay made quick work of them.

Level Three: Magma Beetles, their bodies radiating heat as they crawled over the rocky ground. A few swipes of his sword, and they were no longer a threat.

But as Damien descended deeper into the dungeon, he could feel the power around him increasing. The magic here was stronger, heavier, and it made the air feel thick with danger.

By the time Damien reached the seventh level, he was confident—maybe too confident. He hadn’t encountered anything too dangerous.

But then, as he walked into the final chamber, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

It wasn’t a beast.

It was a demon.

A Grade Three Demon—its red skin was like molten stone, its glowing golden eyes piercing through the darkness. Its claws were sharp, and its presence was suffocating.

“Well, well,” the demon said in a low, guttural voice, its eyes narrowing. “A human… How interesting.”

Damien didn’t flinch. He wasn’t about to show fear, not even in the face of this demon. Instead, he gripped his sword tighter, his eyes narrowing in focus.

‘It spoke!’ He’d just heard a demon speak but that wasn’t important for now!

“I’m not here to talk,” Damien said, his voice steady. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The demon’s eyes gleamed with malicious delight. “So bold. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

Without warning, the demon lunged forward, its claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. Damien barely dodged in time, feeling the wind of the demon’s attack whip past him as he rolled to the side.

The fight had begun.