Summoned As A Mere Nobody-Yet Possesses An SSS-Rank Ability

Lyra and Damian soared through the skies, the clouds parting beneath their overwhelming presence. Far below them, the world faded into nothing but jagged mountains and rivers of molten fire. This was a place no human had ever reached—a sealed land, hidden beyond the reach of ordinary existence.

As they descended, the air itself began to tremble.

Lyra's body glowed as her form expanded. Her figure twisted and grew, radiant energy surging outward as she transformed into her true Behemoth form—massive, ancient, and awe‑inspiring. Her wings spread wide, casting a shadow across the molten ground below.

Beside her, Damian roared.

His human form shattered in light as his divine dragon body emerged—scales gleaming like celestial steel, horns curved with authority, eyes burning with ancient intelligence. His wings beat once, sending waves of pressure through the molten plains.

They landed.

The impact shook the land.

Around them, figures began to appear—beasts of every form and size. Divine creatures, ancient and powerful. Some towered like mountains, others stood with regal composure. Even lower-ranked divine beasts had gathered, including a Fenrir whose eyes burned with restrained ferocity.

The air was heavy with tension.

Whispers echoed across the molten ground.

"They've arrived…"

"So those are the ones…"

"The tamed ones…"

Eyes followed Damian and Lyra wherever they moved. Among all gathered, only one truth was undeniable—

Damian and Lyra was the first Heavenly Beast ever to be tamed by a human.

A ripple of pressure spread through the crowd as a figure stepped forward.

A man clad in flowing white robes, his presence calm yet overwhelming. Behind him shimmered the faint outline of radiant feathers, like a peacock's tail made of light itself. With a single step, the murmuring stopped.

"Silence."

His voice was calm—but absolute.

Every Heavenly Beast fell quiet.

"You all know why you are here," he continued. "The Primordial Awakening draws near. This is no mere disturbance. It is a calamity that threatens not only the mortal realm, but ours as well."

The beasts stirred uneasily.

"The chains that once sealed them are weakening," the man continued. "The ancient ones—those sealed by the Almighty himself—are beginning to stir."

A heavy silence followed.

"The Almighty sealed them because they were too dangerous to exist," he said. "Not even the gods could stop them permanently. And now… their return is approaching."

He turned his gaze toward Lyra and Damian.

"Even we, Heavenly Beasts, are not exempt from what is coming."

The molten ground trembled faintly.

"The age of isolation is ending," the man said quietly. "If the Primordials return… then gods, beasts, and mortals alike will be dragged into the storm."

The air trembled.

The heat rising from the ancient lava sea distorted the world itself as countless divine auras gathered above it. One by one, Heavenly Beasts descended—some cloaked in flame, others wreathed in storm or shadow. Their presence alone warped the land.

"You all know why you are here," he said calmly, yet his voice carried across the molten plains like thunder. "This gathering was inevitable."

The murmurs died down.

"The primordial entities," he continued, "are awakening like I said already."

A ripple of unease spread through the assembly.

"These beings were sealed long before your eras," he said. "Sealed beneath this very land. Deep within the ancient lava chambers. The place you now stand upon is not merely land—it is their prison."

Some of the Heavenly Beasts shifted uneasily.

"Many of you already feel it," he went on. "The pressure. The distortion. The unease in your cores. That is because the seals are weakening."

A massive phoenix stepped forward, its wings burning with radiant fire. Its voice echoed, sharp and resonant.

"I have a question," the phoenix said. "The seals were designed to last for eternity. Even the ancient seals should not break so easily. For thousands of years, they have held. Why now?"

The man in white turned to face it.

"You are correct," he said calmly. "They were meant to last forever."

He raised his hand, and the air trembled.

"But something changed."

The beasts leaned closer.

"The seals were bound to a temporal anchor—a cycle of renewal meant to refresh their power endlessly. That cycle… has been disrupted."

The phoenix's flames flared. "Disrupted? By what?"

The man's gaze darkened.

"By will," he said. "By existence itself shifting. By the awakening of forces that should not yet have stirred."

A low murmur rippled through the gathered beasts.

"Some of the primordials," he continued, "have begun to stir within their prisons. Their hatred, their consciousness—it seeps through the cracks. The seals are no longer absolute."

The ground rumbled faintly beneath them, as if the world itself reacted to his words.

"That is why you feel it," he added. "Why your instincts scream. Why your powers resonate. The balance is breaking."

The phoenix clenched its talons. "Then this means…"

"Yes," the man said. "The age of silence is ending."

Lyra stepped forward, her massive form still partially hidden, wings folded behind her. Her voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"I have a question," she said.

The man in white turned his gaze toward her. "Speak."

She inhaled, her eyes scanning the gathered heavenly beasts. "You said the seal is weakening, that the primordial entities are beginning to stir. But you know more than you're telling us."

The murmurs around the gathering quieted, tension thick in the air.

"You know the exact moment this seal will finally break, don't you?" Lyra continued, her tone unwavering. "You know the day. The time."

A heavy silence followed.

"Because if that seal breaks," she went on, her voice tightening, "it won't just threaten humanity. It will threaten us—the Heavenly Beasts, the Divine Ones, even the gods themselves. Some of the beings sealed below… even we fear them."

She stepped forward, her presence commanding even the other beasts.

"Many of us have never even seen those primordials," Lyra said. "Yet the ones we have encountered were powerful enough to crush deities. So tell us—when will it happen?"

"And one more thing," she added, eyes narrowing. "Why are you standing here in human form? You, of all beings, should not be bound to such a vessel. Why hide your true form now?"

The air grew still.

Then the man finally spoke. His voice calm, but carrying the weight of ages.

"You ask the right questions," he said. "And because you do… I will answer."

He turned slightly, a faint glow intensifying around him.

"The seal will break soon. Not in centuries. Not in decades," he said, his eyes sharpening. "In less than a year."

Shock rippled through the gathered heavenly beasts.

"As for why I remain in this form," he continued, "it is because the world cannot yet withstand my our presence. So it best if we all who are capable of transformation into human should cause it better."

He raised his hand, and the air trembled.

"The primordial beings were sealed not merely by power—but by sacrifice. By laws older than time itself. And those laws are weakening."

He fixed his gaze on Lyra.

The man's voice echoed across the molten plain, calm yet heavy with authority.

"So," he said, his gaze sweeping across the gathered beings, "do you still have any questions?"

For a moment, silence reigned—until Lyra stepped forward. Her eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the molten rivers far below.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I do."

All eyes turned toward her.

"We are standing directly above the ancient seal," Lyra continued. "This place—this land—is where the primordial entities were buried. Their core. Their prison. Why here?" Her voice sharpened. "Why gather us all on top of the very place where they sleep? Don't you think our presence alone will awaken them? They can already feel us. I can sense it. Every one of them is stirring."

A low rumble echoed beneath the ground, as if in response to her words.

The man exhaled slowly.

"You are correct," he said at last. "They can feel you. All of you. Your power, your existence—it resonates through the seal."

Several of the heavenly beasts shifted uneasily.

"But listen carefully," he continued. "This is precisely why you are here. When the day comes—when the seal finally breaks—you must already be standing at the edge of it."

He raised his hand, and the ground beneath them pulsed faintly.

"This place is not just their prison," he said. "It is also the battlefield where everything will be decided. When the primordial ones awaken, they will not emerge one by one. They will rise together, in chaos."

The wind howled.

"And when that moment comes," he said quietly, "only those already standing here will have the right—and the power—to strike them down."

A tense silence followed.

Lyra clenched her fists. "So you're saying… some of us won't survive."

The man did not hesitate.

"Yes," he replied. "Many of you will fall. Some of the strongest among you will perish. That is the price of facing beings older than time itself."

His gaze hardened.

"But this is the reason you were chosen. This is why you were summoned. This is why you stand here now."