SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts

Clang!!

The battle continued, fueled by magic and fury from both sides.

Blade locked against blade. Gritted teeth. Trembling muscles. Eyes that refused to look away.

Then came the signal.

A sharp flick of the silver-haired Thornevale leader’s gaze—just a glance toward her ally, the quiet black-haired boy standing near the edge of the battlefield, hands raised and glowing with pulsing red light.

He didn’t hesitate.

While she held the front line, keeping Crowgarth’s attention locked along with their other teammates, he closed his eyes. Mana flooded his limbs. His breathing slowed. Then, with one smooth motion, he drew the full weight of his essence into three fingertips.

A single word passed his lips.

“Seek.”

Three flaming arrows sprang to life, hovering mid-air like waiting wolves. Each one spun once—then shot off in different directions, guided not by aim, but intent.

Homing spells.

They shimmered with an unnatural heat, moving like predators. Fast, aware, relentless.

One arrow caught its target first—the axe-wielding boy who had just cleaved through a Thornevale shield barrier.

He saw the arrow too late.

Boom!!

The explosion threw him off his feet, landing him in a dazed sprawl. The magic shimmered over his body—his rune-mark flared red. He was out.

The second target turned just in time to see her teammate fall.

“No—!”

She raised a barrier, crystal and flame. But the arrow curved—sharp and alive—and slammed through the shield with a force that surpassed the shield.

Crack! Boom!

She crumpled under the pressure before passing out. Two down.

The final Crowgarth fighter—their spellcaster—reacted fast. He summoned a mirror-wall, bounced a decoy sigil forward, tried to confuse the spell’s path.

It didn’t work.

The arrow danced through the maze of magic, unbothered, closing in.

Panicked, the boy readied a shockwave to dispel it—

CLANG!

The Thornevale leader was there.

She caught him mid-cast, the flat of her glaive slamming against the side of his head. His body dropped before the arrow could reach him. The spell paused in the air, then winked out with a soft spark.

The arena lights shifted.

“Victory for Thornevale.”

A beat of stunned silence—and then the colosseum erupted into applause.

Even those who had cheered for Crowgarth couldn’t deny the brutal elegance of the win. It hadn’t been a landslide, but it had been decisive.

Above, Damon leaned back with a slow exhale. “Didn’t think they’d pull it off.”

“They pulled something off,” Daveon smirked. “Now your golden luck’s running dry.”

The announcer’s voice boomed again, cutting through the cheers.

“The final Match is between ElderGlow and Thornevale. Both teams will receive a twenty-minute recovery period. All injured members will be returned to peak condition by academy staff.”

Magical platforms descended, lifting the two teams away toward their private chambers.

Inside, healers and mana specialists swarmed the fighters—casting, inspecting, mending. Bruises vanished, burns faded, broken bones reset and sealed under light.

Even Keon, who had barely made it through his last match upright, rose from his bench with new strength in his limbs and fire in his eyes.

On the upper tier, the senior students turned to each other.

“Well?” Daveon asked, grin growing.

“I’ll bite,” Damon said. “Five gold on ElderGlow.”

Celeste raised a brow. “You think they can beat that?” She pointed to the still-glowing platform where Thornevale had just won.

“No,” Damon admitted. “I think they’ll lose. But I respect the gamble.”

Anaya laughed. “So, you’re paying to believe. How poetic.”

“Put it down then,” Daveon said. “Five from all of us. If Thornevale wins, we each take your coin.”

The deal was sealed with a nod.

Below, the arena reshaped one last time.

A perfect circle—wide and flat, marked with intricate battle runes. No tricks, no obstacles. Just space to clash.

The announcer’s voice dropped, deeper now, slower.

“This is your final match. ElderGlow. Thornevale. You have been evaluated. You have been tested. Now, prove yourselves.”

Silence.

Then—”Begin.”

No roar this time. No charge.

Both teams moved carefully, slowly circling, eyes locked. Respect passed between them, wordless and cold. No underestimation here.

Keon moved first.

He and Yara split wide, forming a loose pincer. Toma and Nia stayed central, bracing for the inevitable engagement.

Thornevale didn’t flinch. Their glaive-wielding leader moved like liquid steel—flowing from stance to stance, already calculating. She directed her team with short hand signals.

And then—

The storm broke.

Spells lit the air. Barriers shimmered. Blades met, again and again.

Keon darted forward, blade trailing lightning. He clashed with the Thornevale front, dodging, striking, retreating, never lingering long enough to get pinned.

Yara launched a cyclone, aiming to scatter their formation, but a Thornevale mage dispelled it mid-air.

Thornevale responded with crushing force—a battering ram of mana-enhanced strikes that forced ElderGlow to fall back.

Toma shielded Nia just in time to block a fireball. Nia returned with a wide-area freeze that nearly locked down Thornevale’s backline—but nearly wasn’t enough.

As the minutes passed, ElderGlow’s tactics began to fray. Their movements slowed. Coordination dulled. The fatigue from their earlier match was creeping in even though they’d been fixed up by specialists. The mental fatigue remained.

And Thornevale—methodical and cold—pressed harder.

Keon tried one last gambit—charging the glaive leader, trying to draw her into a trap.

She didn’t take the bait.

Instead, she side-stepped, caught his shoulder with the blunt end of her weapon, and knocked him into the ground. He tried to rise—but his rune flared red.

Out.

The rest of ElderGlow fought on—but they were falling, one by one.

Until finally—

The announcer’s voice rang out.

“Another victory for Thornevale.”

A mix of cheers and sighs rose from the stands.

It had been close. It had been brilliant.

But it had been final.

Up in the upper tier, Damon stood without a word and reached into his coin pouch. He counted out fifteen gold coins—five for each of his friends—and handed them over.

Daveon whistled. “Painful?”

“Expected,” Damon muttered, lips twitching in the faintest of smiles. “They’ll win next year.”

Celeste pocketed her coin. “Let’s just hope Keon still has a spine by then.”

Below, the final rankings were displayed in radiant gold above the arena:

Year One Final Standings:

1. Thornevale

2. ElderGlow

3. Crowgarth

4. Wyrmere

The crowd began to file out, buzzing with speculation, pride, and already-forming rivalries.

In the healing chamber, Keon sat quietly, his hands folded, eyes closed—not in pain, but in thought.

And somewhere above, Miss Leana watched her students.

Saying nothing.

But the corner of her mouth lifted—just slightly. Soon, they took would be on that stage proving to be the best of the four schools.

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A/N: As promised, all four chapters have been delivered. The same will be done for the days after. Thank you all for sticking by. Daily Updates are back and better… Hehehe.

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