SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts-Chapter 295: Mission Was A Success

The music soared in sweet rhythm.

In the grand celebration hall of Velthorne Castle, laughter danced alongside strings and flutes.

Colored glass chandeliers cast soft light across polished marble, and petals—real and enchanted—floated gently down from the ceiling like snowflakes scented with jasmine.

It was a night meant for joy. A night of union.

In the center of the hall, nobles and aristocrats formed a circle as the younger guests took to the floor. It was a tradition—The Dance of Virtue, as it was called. Young men and women danced in rotating pairs, switching partners every chorus until only one couple remained by choice.

That couple, tonight, was the celebrant herself, Lady Seris of House Ilven—the birthday girl—and her partner, Prince Kael Viremont, third son of the distant Kingdom of Edrelmir.

Seris moved with grace and youth, her silver gown swirling as she laughed beside Kael. Her emerald eyes sparkled brighter than the candles lining the edges of the hall. Kael, tall and golden-haired, wore his house sigil—an iron stag over stormy seas—and kept his gaze firmly locked on her.

They were talking beneath their laughter, voices soft but earnest, hiding meaning behind their waltz.

"I still don't know why they betrothed me without asking," Seris said.

"You would've said no?" Kael asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Seris smiled coyly. "I would've said 'maybe.' Depending on your dance."

Kael smirked. "Then I'd better keep dancing."

He spun her, the hem of her dress fluttering like a breeze in a dream. Around them, other young nobles danced in pairs, the music building toward crescendo.

And then—

Boom.

The explosion from above struck like a thunderclap hurled by the gods.

The ceiling trembled. Dust rained down. One of the great marble pillars—the one closest to Seris and Kael—shuddered, then cracked with a deafening snap.

Gasps filled the room as heads turned skyward. Time seemed to slow.

The pillar groaned, split, and began to fall.

It fell toward the dancers.

Seris's eyes widened. Kael reached for her—but before he could move, someone else did.

A guard—not one of Kael's, not one anyone could name—lunged from the edge of the floor. He tackled the two young nobles out of the way and shouted something unintelligible before the pillar crashed down, crushing him and two others who'd been caught beneath its weight.

Blood sprayed across the marble like spilled wine.

Kael scrambled upright, coughing. Seris was sobbing, curled against his chest. He pulled her back and cupped her face.

"You're okay," he said. "You're okay."

She shook her head, pointing at the ruins.

The prince turned and saw it. The body of the man who had saved them, now little more than pulp beneath stone.

Kael's jaw clenched. His expression hardened into something that didn't belong on the face of a boy barely twenty.

He stood tall and shouted, "Open the doors! Find the source—now! Lock down the castle!"

His guards, trained for chaos, surged forward. Some ran up the stairs. Others shielded the remaining guests. The dancing floor was now a field of ruin.

The music was long gone.

The flames had died, but the heat remained.

Damien stood beside the smoldering ruin of Raegon's bed, where only a head remained now—eyes wide, lips frozen in a snarl of disbelief.

The Monstrous Wolf, Fenrir, flicked its ears, waiting for further command. Damien gave none.

Instead, he turned and stared toward the door. Footsteps. Voices.

"Just a minute more," Damien whispered.

He took a final glance at Raegon's severed head, then issued his last command to Fenrir. "Cancel Fenrir's summon."

He looked around after giving the command. "About time to destroy the room."

Fenrir growled low, then vanished in a blink, the summoning mark fading into the dark just like the previous explosion Luron had stopped. But Damien wasn't finished.

He lifted his left hand and summoned Cerbe. It surged into the room with a hiss of sulfur, its many glowing eyes lighting up like coals in the dark.

"Anyone who walks in," Damien told it calmly, "make them regret it. Destroy the room in half a minute."

Then he turned and walked out the side entrance.

Cerbe crouched by the shattered window as the main door burst open.

Guards rushed in, swords drawn—

And met fire and teeth.

Cerbe exploded forward, engulfing the space in an inferno far worse than the first. A second detonation rocked the castle, this time ripping straight through the east wall.

Boooooom!!!

Half of the upper floor collapsed.

Flames poured into the hall below like water from a breached dam. Stone and wood rained down in a storm of deadly debris.

Kael had just reached the edge of the floor when the second explosion hit. His ears rang. His lungs burned. He covered Seris's head with his cloak and dove toward the shelter of a fallen statue.

A carved wing broke from a cherub's body above and nearly impaled them both.

Smoke surged through the space. Screams reached new heights.

But by some divine chance—or perhaps cruel fate—the second collapse caused less loss of life than the first. Most of the guests had already begun evacuating. The nobility had scattered, and Kael's guards had raised shields in time to protect the last of the dancers.

Still, ten more were injured. One maimed. The smell of blood and fire overtook perfume and wine. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

And amidst the chaos, one name began to rise from frightened lips like a forbidden prayer.

"A demon."

No one had seen who did it. No one knew for certain.

But in the deeper chambers, some servants whispered of shadows that moved against the light.

Damien was gone.

By the time Kael reached the staircase with sword in hand, there was no trace. No blood. No footprints. Not even ash remained where the mysterious attacker had last been.

Cerbe's remains were vaporized as Damien had cancelled the Hound's summon. Raegon's head was burnt but remained recognisable. His bed—his private chamber—reduced to rubble.

Outside, on the western wall of the castle, a single figure in a dark coat stepped onto the high parapet, his silhouette lit by the dying fires below.

Damien looked back once at the castle burning beneath the moonlight. He said nothing.

The wind pulled at his cloak as he leapt from the wall, vanishing into the velvet night.

He didn't stop to consider the lives saved or the lives lost. He didn't wonder what the nobles would say, or how Kael would report the incident to his father. Hell, he didn't care about anything else. Raegon was dead.

"Mission was a success I guess." Damien smirked.