SSS-Ranked Awakening: I Can Only Summon Mythical Beasts-Chapter 506: Good Work

Fenrir lived for the hunt.

The forest did not frighten him nor did the darkness unsettle him. In fact, it seemed to motivate the Monstrous Wolf to hunt even better.

The stench of blood, fear, and mana only sharpened his senses.

His paws crushed undergrowth as he moved, massive body flowing between trees with predatory grace that belied his size.

Each breath drew the world into him—every vibration in the soil, every tremor of mana, every panicked heartbeat echoing through the roots of the Forest of Twin Disasters.

This land remembered him.

Or perhaps it was he who remembered it.

Either way, Fenrir did not slow. Even though it's fur was a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to swallow the forest, Fenrir was a blur that couldn't not be seen.

By the time its victims sensed the white wolf, it was already too late. Their end had come.

A mana beast burst from the brush ahead—a scaled cervine creature with antler-like growths crackling with green energy. It barely had time to scream before Fenrir was upon it.

Claws tore through enchanted hide as if it were wet towel. Fenrir's jaws closed around the creature's neck, and with a brutal twist of his head, the spine snapped. The beast went limp instantly. The wolf however did not stop their, it pulled, separating the head and spine of the creature from the rest of its body.

Fenrir did not linger.

He dug through the creatures innards, easily locating the essence core of the beast.

He tore the glowing essence core free with his teeth and spat it aside, marking it with a low growl. Not food.

This was for him.

Another presence rushed in from the right.

Then two more.

Fenrir welcomed them.

He surged forward, white fur already darkened by blood, mana rippling beneath his skin like a living storm. One beast leapt but Fenrir caught it midair and slammed it into the ground hard enough to crater the earth.

Another tried to flank him; Fenrir pivoted, tail lashing, jaws snapping shut around its head.

Crunch.

Dead.

The third fled, a mistake it shouldn't have done. Fenrir did not hesitate to chase after it leaving the others behind.

The forest blurred as he accelerated, every muscle singing with power. The fleeing beast was fast, but fear made it sloppy. Fenrir lunged, claws hooking into its back, dragging it down screaming.

He ended it with a bite to the skull and then just as it had done with the others, it extracted the essence core of the beast and stroking it in its mouth, it headed back to where it had left the others.

Fenrir still had cores to extract from those it had left behind in pursuit of the one it had just slain. It arrived there, devoured the core in it's mouth and then turned to the others, doing just the same thing with them; extracting and devouring their cores before departing, leaving the courses behind to hunt for even more cores.

Fenrir moved without hesitation, without mercy through the forest.

Demons fell next.

Not the intelligent ones but the normal ones every fighter had encountered. The ones that had populated the forest the last time Fenrir had been here. These were lesser creatures, twisted by demonic essence but lacking true cunning. Still dangerous. Still worth killing.

A pack of horned fiends crawled out from a ravine, black ichor dripping from their claws as they snarled at him.

Fenrir bared his fangs.

They attacked together.

A mistake.

He crashed into them like an avalanche, body wreathed in frost-white mana. One demon was torn in half before it even registered the impact. Another had its throat ripped out as it tried to bite Fenrir's leg.

Claws scraped against Fenrir's hide, drawing shallow lines that healed almost instantly. Pain barely registered. Rage, instinct, dominance—that was what mattered.

Fenrir crushed them.

When the last demon fell, he ripped free their essence cores and added them to the growing pile he had begun to gather instinctively. He did not know why he was doing it.

He only knew it was right.

For his master.

Soon, hours passed.

Fenrir's body was slick with blood and ichor, breath steaming in the cool forest air. The ground around him was churned into mud, trees splintered and torn from the earth where battles had raged.

He had killed beasts that roared loud enough to shake the canopy.

He had crushed demons that thought numbers could save them.

He had chased prey until their legs failed and their fear overwhelmed them.

And through it all, a single presence lingered at the edge of his awareness.

Damien.

Not close.

Not yet.

But approaching.

Fenrir slowed slightly, ears twitching as he paused atop a broken ridge overlooking a clearing. Below him lay the remains of his most recent hunt—a massive mana beast with crystalline plating, its chest torn open where Fenrir's jaws had crushed its core free.

Fenrir dropped the glowing core onto the growing collection.

There were many now.

More than a dozen.

High-grade cores, each pulsing with potent essence—Grade Four, some bordering on higher density. Fenrir circled them once, tail swaying, then lay down nearby, positioning himself between the forest and the pile.

Guarding and waiting for its summoner and master.

The forest shifted.

Fenrir's ears flicked.

Footsteps—not hurried, not cautious. Familiar. Confident.

Fenrir lifted his head.

There.

Through the trees.

His master approached, presence unmistakable even before Fenrir caught his scent. Damien moved through the forest like he belonged to it—bloodied, calm, eyes sharp.

Fenrir rose to his feet and let out a low, rumbling sound—not a growl, not a threat.

Recognition.

Approval.

He padded forward a few steps, then stopped, deliberately positioning himself beside the gathered essence cores. His tail thumped the ground once.

Damien slowed, gaze dropping to the pile.

"…You went all out," he murmured.

Fenrir huffed softly.

Yes.

Damien stepped closer, surveying the surrounding devastation—the broken trees, the crushed earth, the bodies half-buried where Fenrir had left them.

A slow smile touched his lips.

"Good work," Damien said quietly.

Fenrir straightened at the words, chest swelling slightly. He lowered his head just a fraction, acknowledging the praise without submission.

While their mission in the forest was far from over for now, Fenrir had done his part.

He stood beside his master, blood-soaked and unbowed, guarding the spoils of war as the Forest of Twin Disasters watched in silence.