SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts-Chapter 496: Hunting Like Predators II

Damien moved.

He struck the Ursine’s knee joint with a precise blow, shattering balance rather than bone. The creature crashed to one knee with an earth-shaking impact.

"Now," Damien said.

Garrick surged forward, blade flashing as he drove it into the exposed neck beneath the stone plating. Mana erupted in a violent burst as the Ursine collapsed.

Luton retracted smoothly.

A moment later, it spat out a pulsing Grade Four essence core, landing neatly at Damien’s feet.

Garrick stared. "...It really did."

Damien picked up the core and handed it to him. "One."

They hadn’t gone far before the forest retaliated.

A sharp whistling sound sliced through the air.

Damien shifted instantly, grabbing Garrick’s shoulder and pulling him aside as twin blades of compressed wind tore through the space where Garrick’s head had been.

Three figures dropped from the trees.

Razorwind Mantises.

Insectoid mana beasts with scythe-like forelimbs capable of generating cutting wind pressure. Agile. Deadly. Grade Four in groups.

They attacked without hesitation.

Luton split.

Its body divided into three smaller masses, each surging toward a mantis. The creatures screeched as their scythes cut through the slime—only for the wounds to seal instantly.

The mantises panicked.

One leapt backward, wings buzzing, but Luton stretched unnaturally, catching it mid-air and dragging it down.

Damien moved like a ghost between them, striking with open palms and elbows—each hit disrupting mana flow, shattering balance, breaking coordination.

"Pick them off," Damien instructed.

Garrick obeyed.

He darted in, blade sinking into exposed thoraxes whenever Luton restrained a target. One by one, the mantises fell.

Luton devoured swiftly this time, efficient and disciplined.

Three essence cores were expelled moments later, rolling across the forest floor.

Garrick gathered them with trembling hands. "This... this is too efficient."

Damien’s gaze remained forward. "We’re not done."

The forest darkened as ash drifted through the air.

A low, haunting cry echoed ahead.

They found it standing in a clearing scorched black—an enormous elk-like beast with burning embers embedded in its mane and antlers glowing faintly red.

Ashmane Elk.

A volatile mana beast that detonated upon death if mishandled. Grade Four. Extremely dangerous.

Garrick stiffened. "That thing explodes."

"Yes," Damien said. "So we won’t kill it normally."

Luton surged forward again, but this time Damien raised a hand. "Careful."

The slime approached slowly, enveloping the Elk’s legs and torso without crushing it. The beast screamed, flames flaring violently as its mana destabilized.

Damien stepped in, striking the creature’s head with a precise blow that knocked it unconscious rather than killing it.

"Now," he said quietly.

Luton tightened.

Instead of devouring everything, it isolated the core first—encasing it in a membrane before siphoning mana away carefully. The Elk’s flames sputtered and died as its body went limp.

Moments later, the core emerged—intact, glowing warmly rather than explosively.

Garrick exhaled in disbelief. "You just... bypassed the detonation."

"Luton learns," Damien replied. "Quickly."

The slime wobbled proudly.

The last fight came unexpectedly.

The ground beneath Garrick’s feet collapsed.

He barely had time to react before he was dragged underground by massive, clawed limbs.

"Garrick!" Damien snapped.

Two enormous mole-like beasts erupted from the earth—Twin Burrow Tyrants. Grade Four. Ambush specialists.

Luton slammed into one instantly, engulfing its head.

Damien dropped into the pit after Garrick, landing lightly despite the depth. He struck the second Tyrant’s jaw upward, snapping its head back.

Garrick, battered but conscious, rolled to his feet.

"I’ve got it!" he shouted.

Damien didn’t interfere further.

Luton restrained one Tyrant completely, immobilizing it. Damien crippled the other with a strike to the spine, then stepped back.

Garrick roared, charging forward with everything he had left.

His blade pierced one skull.

Then the other.

The tunnel fell silent.

Luton devoured both bodies thoroughly this time, then spat out two more glowing cores.

Night fell slowly, the forest dimming into shades of silver and black.

They sat in a small clearing, surrounded by the remains of battle. Garrick’s breathing was steady now, exhaustion giving way to relief.

Damien placed the gathered essence cores on a flat stone—one, two, three... ten... fifteen.

All Grade Four.

All intact.

Garrick stared at them, eyes wide, hands trembling as he reached out.

"This... this is enough," he whispered. "More than enough even. It should pay off my debt."

Damien pushed the final core toward him. "Then take them."

Garrick looked up. "You could keep some. You did most of the work."

Damien shook his head. "You need them more."

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Garrick bowed deeply—far deeper than necessary. "You didn’t just save my family," he said hoarsely. "You gave me a chance to live without running."

Damien turned his gaze toward the deeper forest, where ancient shadows stirred. "Then don’t waste it."

Luton bounced lightly at his side, satisfied.

Even though it was clear that his time here was over and that he’d be leaving, Garrick didn’t leave immediately.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, the pouch of essence cores secured tightly against his chest, his eyes lingering on the forest as if trying to carve its image into memory.

The Forest of Twin Disasters loomed around them, vast and unbothered, its ancient presence pressing down like a living thing.

"I can leave whenever I want," Garrick said at last, patting the leather tube strapped to his thigh. "Teleportation scroll. Direct route back to the port city."

Damien, who had been cleaning his blade with methodical calm, paused.

"How many charges?"

"One," Garrick replied. "Single use."

Damien nodded slowly, then looked up. "Then stay one more day."

Garrick blinked. "One... more day?"

"A full hunt," Damien continued. "No shortcuts. No standing back. We hunt from dawn to dusk."

Garrick’s brows furrowed. "You already gave me more than enough. I can pay the loan, get my family back—"

"And with one mistake," Damien interrupted calmly, "you’re broke again."

The words weren’t cruel. They were factual.

Garrick fell silent.

"This forest doesn’t forgive weakness," Damien went on. "Neither do loan sharks. If you’re going back, go back with enough that you don’t have to look over your shoulder every night."

Garrick clenched his jaw. "You’re saying... double?"

"At least."

A long breath escaped Garrick. Slowly, a grin crept onto his face—not relief, but something sharper. Something eager.

"Alright," he said. "One more hunt."

Then his eyes narrowed. "But on one condition."

Damien raised an eyebrow.

"I don’t want you standing around watching anymore," Garrick said. "I want to see how good you really are. No tricks. No letting your slime do everything."

Damien considered him for a moment.

"Luton will only store the kills," Garrick continued. "No devouring. No restraining. You fight with me."

The forest seemed to grow quieter.

Luton wobbled faintly at Damien’s side, almost as if confused.

Damien exhaled through his nose, then nodded. "Fine."

Garrick’s grin widened. "Good."

They moved at first light.

The forest greeted them with mist and shadow, dew clinging to leaves and grass like cold sweat. The deeper they went, the heavier the mana density became, pressing against skin and bone alike.

The first battle came quickly.

The shrill screech split the air without warning.

Six Bloodcrest Raptors descended from above, wings beating violently as crimson mana flared around their talons. Their beaks glowed faintly, sharpened by mana reinforcement.

They were all grade four and were absurdly fast.

Garrick moved instantly, rolling aside as talons tore through the space where he’d stood. He came up swinging, blade flashing as he severed one raptor’s wing mid-flight.

Damien stepped forward—not fast, not slow.

Precise.

A raptor lunged for his throat.

Damien caught it by the neck.

There was a sharp crack as he twisted, snapping bone and mana channels alike. He flung the corpse aside without breaking stride.

Another raptor came from behind.

Damien didn’t turn.

He leaned just enough for its talons to skim past, then drove an elbow backward into its skull. Mana burst outward as the creature collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Garrick stole a glance mid-fight, eyes widening.

Damien wasn’t flashy.

He was efficient.

The remaining raptors fell quickly—Garrick cutting two down, Damien dispatching the last with a single, clean strike through the chest.

Luton slid forward obediently, absorbing the corpses without complaint.

Garrick exhaled. "You fight like you’ve done this your whole life."

Damien didn’t answer.

The swampy stretch ahead reeked of decay.

A low hiss echoed as a massive shape rose from the murk—a Mirehorn Basilisk, its hide slick with toxins, horn dripping venomous ichor.

Grade Four. Poison-type.

"Careful of its breath!" Garrick warned.

Damien nodded once.

The Basilisk spat a cloud of corrosive mist.

Damien stepped through it.

The poison parted around him, mana flaring briefly along his skin as he reinforced his body instinctively. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, striking the Basilisk’s horn at its base.

The horn shattered.

The creature shrieked.

Garrick capitalized immediately, plunging his blade into its exposed neck. The Basilisk thrashed wildly, tail smashing trees to splinters, but Damien was already moving again—driving a second blow into its spine.

The beast collapsed.

Luton absorbed it silently.

Garrick stared at Damien. "...You didn’t even hesitate."

"I know where not to stand," Damien replied simply.