SSS Ranked Awakening: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 281

Chapter 281: Summoned Beast—2
Abilities:

Frost Dominion (Lv 6) – Freezes the surrounding area within a 60m radius. Ice-type attacks +45%.

Spirit Veil (Lv 5) – Generates frost-mist that conceals allies and distorts magic perception.

Glacial Grace (Lv 4) – Phases through ice or water surfaces; brief invulnerability (1.2s).

Frostbloom Rejuvenation (Lv 4) – The Kirin releases warm frost petals that melt into life-energy, gently healing wounds and purifying all harm.

Cryo-Resonance (Passive) – Ice/Water magic nearby gains +20% power.

Soul Sanctum (Awakened) – If the summoner’s life force drops critically low, the Kirin crystallizes her in healing ice, restoring vitality at the cost of one antler.

Frostbloom Rejuvenation, Leon thought, his eyes locking onto the fourth ability. That’s how they survived.

Without wasting another second, Leon closed the distance between himself and the exhausted survivors. His mana surged as a warm green light gathered around his hands. He channeled his life energy, expanding its range to cover multiple people simultaneously.

Warm energy washed over the group. Minor wounds were closed, bruises had faded, and pain had receded from tired faces. Leon poured mana into the effort, healing a dozen people at once, his focus split between maintaining the spell’s stability and maximizing its coverage.

The Frostveil Kirin’s head turned sharply toward him. Its nostrils flared as it released a cold breath that materialized as visible mist in the air—a clear scoff at what it was witnessing.

Then the beast stomped its crystalline hoof against the ground.

THOOM!

The earth trembled. Frost spread outward in an intricate pattern, beautiful and purposeful. Warm, glowing petals of ice materialized in the air above the remaining survivors—at least fifty people Leon hadn’t reached yet. The petals drifted down like gentle snow, and where they touched skin, they melted into pure life energy.

Wounds healed instantly. Exhaustion lifted. Color returned to pale faces.

The Kirin had healed more people in a single ability than Leon had managed with sustained effort. And it had done so effortlessly, its massive mana reserves barely dipping from the expenditure that would have drained Leon completely.

That took at least 1800 mana, Leon estimated, watching the last petals fade. And it didn’t even strain.

Everyone present felt it—the sheer magnitude of power the beast had just casually displayed. Gasps rippled through the survivors as they touched their now-healed bodies in disbelief and even a bit of anger.

This beast clearly has the power to heal them all entirely, but why doesn’t it barely heal them to be alive in the dungeon? Still, no one complained, as the beast was the reason they even survived to this point.

The Frostveil Kirin’s luminous eyes fixed directly on Leon. Its posture radiated smugness, crystalline antlers catching the light as it released another cold breath through its nose. The message was clear: You tried. I succeeded. Know your place.

Leon met the beast’s gaze without flinching, his expression neutral. Impressive, he acknowledged internally. But showing off won’t change anything.

“Everyone,” Leon called out, his voice carrying authority that cut through the murmurs. “Return to your home. Rest and eat. You’ve earned it.”

His will activated the dimensional portal. Silver-white energy tore into existence, the familiar gateway opening with a pulse of his mana.

Relief flooded countless faces. The dungeon had taken its toll—mentally, physically, spiritually. Going home meant safety, food, and rest. It meant surviving.

One by one, the survivors began filing through the portal. Some walked steadily, others helped their companions, but all moved with purpose. The nightmare was over.

Soon, only four remained: Leon, Seraphine, the white-grey haired girl, and her two beasts.

Leon had already checked the giant red wolf’s information earlier. Unlike the Kirin, it wasn’t imposing—decent stats, fire affinity, and aggressive temperament. But what caught his attention was the title displayed by the system:

[Lovestruck Inferno Wolf (F) — Retired Dungeon Boss Fallen to Pure Ice Maiden]

So it’s not a summoned beast, Leon realized. It’s a dungeon boss that… fell for her? Or for the Kirin?

“Come on, doggy!” Elowyn called from atop the red wolf, patting its head affectionately. “Let’s go inside! I want to sleep for a week!”

The wolf didn’t budge.

Its eyes remained fixated on the Frostveil Kirin, who was glaring back with icy disdain. The wolf’s massive body trembled slightly—not from fear, but from something else entirely. Its tail wagged despite the Kirin’s hostile stare.

It’s smitten, Leon noted with amusement. And the Kirin wants nothing to do with it.

The Kirin’s glare intensified, clearly communicating that she didn’t want them entering the portal. The wolf, caught between its infatuation and its new companion’s desire to go home, remained frozen in place.

Elowyn seemed confused by her mount’s sudden stubbornness, but Leon understood perfectly. The title had explained everything.

This works out, Leon thought. I wanted to talk to her anyway.

Leon first asked her name casually and then called her.

“Elowyn,” Leon called casually.

The girl’s head snapped toward him, her blue eyes widening. “Y-Yes, my god?”

The moment those words left her mouth, the Frostveil Kirin released a threatening growl that made the air vibrate as if it understood the words. The red wolf joined in with its own rumbling snarl, flames flickering around its maw.

“Stop it! Both of you!” Elowyn scolded, smacking the wolf’s head before turning to glare at the Kirin. “That’s my god! He saved my life! He gave us food, shelter, and a chance to become strong! Show some respect!”

The Kirin’s head lowered slightly, its aggressive posture easing. Through their bond, Elowyn’s earnest emotions flooded the beast’s consciousness—gratitude, reverence, unwavering faith in the silver-haired man before them.

The Kirin felt ashamed. She’d been acting hostile because this being was threatening. Despite his measly mana compared to hers, something about him radiated danger. Raw, primal danger that made her instincts scream warnings. So she’d been on guard, defensive, trying to assert dominance.

But he was her partner’s savior. Her god.

I was wrong, the Kirin realized.

A voice echoed directly in Leon’s mind, melodic and crystalline: I apologize. I meant no disrespect. You are really dangerous, and I acted to protect my partner.

Leon blinked, surprised by the direct mental communication. Telepathy? Interesting.

He focused on the sensation—the way the Kirin’s thoughts had touched his consciousness, the pathway through which the message traveled. It felt similar to mana manipulation but different, more… spiritual.

I can replicate this, Leon thought, reaching out with his will.

His first attempt failed. The second went nowhere. But on the third try, something clicked. His consciousness found the same pathway, and he pushed his thoughts through it toward the Kirin’s mind.

It’s alright. I can see why you were on guard. You just wanted the best for Elowyn.

The Frostveil Kirin’s eyes went completely wide, pupils dilating in shock. Every muscle in its body went rigid.

HE CAN—?!

The beast’s control slipped. Frost exploded outward in a ten-meter radius, flash-freezing the ground, the air, everything in range. The Kirin leaped backward with a startled cry, its crystalline hooves skidding on the ice it had accidentally created.

“Kirin!” Elowyn called out, concerned and confused by her partner’s sudden panic.

The beast stared at Leon like he’d just performed an impossible miracle, its breath coming in visible puffs of frozen air. Its mind raced with questions and shock.

How? How can a human speak directly to my mind? Only spirit beasts should be able to—

Leon smiled faintly, his silver eyes meeting the Kirin’s startled gaze. Looks like I surprised you.