SSS-Ranked Summoner: Only I Summon All Heroes And Heroines Of Legend Chapter 53: Potential Alliances?: Traveling With The Drakenh

Morning light filtered through the dorm room window.

Altair stood in front of his bed, staring down at the neatly packed trunk sitting beside it. Everything he’d brought to the Academy was accounted for, clothes, books, supplies, the few personal items he couldn’t leave behind.

Finn was doing the sa on the other side of the room, though with significantly less organization. His trunk was half-open, clothes spilling out the sides as he tried to cram one more jacket inside.

"This thing was bigger when I packed it to co here," Finn muttered, pushing down on the lid. "I swear it was."

Altair smiled faintly. "You probably brought more stuff back than you left with."

"Yeah, maybe." Finn gave up on closing the trunk properly and just sat on it instead, using his body weight to force the latches shut. "There. Done."

He looked over at Altair. "You all set?"

"Yeah." Altair glanced around the room one last ti. It had been ho for the past year—the first real ho he’d had away from the Elfender estate. He’d miss it. Not the room itself, necessarily, but what it represented.

Freedom. Distance. A chance to be sothing other than the family disappointnt.

His eyes drifted to the nightstand, where the letter from his mother still sat, half-folded.

He’d read it at least a dozen tis since receiving it. Each ti, the words felt heavier.

Altair picked up the letter, folded it carefully, and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

"You good?" Finn asked, watching him.

"Yeah," Altair said. "Just... thinking."

Finn nodded, understanding without needing details. "Well, if it helps, you crushed it this year. Your family’s going to be proud."

Altair appreciated the clueless sentint, but he didn’t share Finn’s optimism. "We’ll see."

His phone buzzed.

He pulled it out and saw a ssage from Ryka.

---

Ryka: All set. You coming?

---

Altair typed back quickly.

---

Altair: Sure. On my way.

---

He pocketed his phone and grabbed his trunk. "That’s Ryka. She’s ready."

Finn hoisted his own trunk onto his shoulder with a grunt. "Alright. Let’s do this."

They left the dorm room together, closing the door behind them with a quiet finality.

---

The pickup area was busier than it had been the night before.

Dozens of students milled about, dragging trunks, saying goodbyes, and waiting for their families to arrive. Carriages and cars lined the courtyard—so of simpler models, others ornate and clearly expensive.

Altair spotted Ryka imdiately. She stood near the center of the courtyard, her own trunk beside her, looking composed and confident in a dark yellow traveling cloak.

Finn walked with Altair as far as the edge of the courtyard, then stopped.

"This is ," he said, gesturing toward a modest carriage waiting near the far gate. It wasn’t fancy, but it looked sturdy and well-maintained.

Altair set his trunk down and extended a hand. "Safe travels, Finn."

Finn grinned and clasped his hand firmly. "You too."

Finn clapped him on the shoulder, then picked up his trunk and headed toward the carriage. He turned back once, waving, before climbing inside.

Altair watched the carriage pull away, then turned and made his way toward Ryka.

She smiled as he approached. "Ready?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be," Altair said, setting his trunk down beside hers. "You sure your mother’s okay with this?"

"More than okay," Ryka said. "I already talked to her about it. She said it made perfect sense—we’re both going to Valthoria anyway, so why take separate transports?"

She paused, then added with a knowing grin, "Plus, she ntioned sothing about the Drakenhearts and Elfenders having ’positive relations in the past.’ I think she sees this as a networking opportunity."

Altair raised an eyebrow. "Networking?"

"Probably," Ryka said, shrugging. "You know how it is with noble families. Everything’s about alliances and positioning. Especially with the Summoner’s War brewing."

Altair nodded slowly. He understood. Mrs. Nirvana Drakenheart was sharp—she wouldn’t pass up a chance to strengthen ties with another major house, even if it ant chaperoning her daughter’s classmate ho.

"Well," Altair said, "I appreciate it either way. The Elfender family wasn’t planning to send anyone to pick up."

Ryka’s expression softened slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Altair kept his tone neutral. "It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting them to."

Ryka looked like she wanted to say sothing, but before she could, a deep, resonant horn echoed across the courtyard.

They both turned.

An elite vehicle rolled into the pickup area, The carriage itself was a work of art: polished dark wood inlaid with silver filigree, the Drakenheart family crest emblazoned on both doors in crimson and gold.

It ca to a stop directly in front of them, and a liveried attendant stepped down from the driver’s seat. He bowed deeply to Ryka.

"Lady Drakenheart. Your mother sends her regards and has prepared the carriage for your journey ho."

Ryka nodded regally. "Thank you, Saul."

The attendant—Saul—gestured toward Altair. "And this is your guest?"

"Yes. Altair Elfender. He’ll be traveling with us as far as Valthoria."

Saule bowed again, this ti to Altair. "An honor, Lord Elfender. Please, allow ."

He moved to collect their trunks, lifting them with practiced ease and securing them in the luggage compartnt at the rear of the carriage.

Ryka climbed inside first, and Altair followed.

The interior was just as luxurious as the exterior. Plush velvet seats, enchanted lanterns that provided soft, warm light, and enough space to comfortably seat six people. The walls were lined with polished wood paneling, and a small refreshnt cabinet sat in one corner, stocked with drinks and snacks.

Altair settled into the seat across from Ryka, who was already making herself comfortable.

"Not bad, right?" she said, grinning.

"Not bad at all," Altair admitted.

The carriage door closed with a quiet click, and a mont later, they began to move. The ride was smooth—almost impossibly so. The enchantnts woven into the suspension made it feel like they were gliding rather than rolling over cobblestones.

Altair leaned back in his seat, letting himself relax for the first ti in days.

This was better than his journey to the Academy. Much better.

Back then, he’d traveled alone in a basic transport carriage—functional, uncomfortable, and painfully slow. The roads had been rough, the weather uncooperative, and the whole experience had felt like a preview of how little his family cared.

This, though? This was different.

The kind of travel reserved for people who mattered.

He glanced at Ryka, who was looking out the window as the Academy gates passed by.

"Thanks for this," he said quietly.

She turned back to him, her expression softening. "Don’t ntion it. Really. We’re friends. And besides, it’s nice to have company on the ride ho."

Altair smiled. "Still. I appreciate it."

They settled into a comfortable silence as the carriage picked up speed, leaving the Academy behind.

---

The journey to Valthoria took the better part of a day.

They passed through rolling hills and dense forests, the landscape gradually shifting from the temperate greenery around Gran-Lusia to the more austere, rocky terrain of Valthoria’s outer provinces.

Ryka spent most of the trip reading—a thick to on advanced summoning theory that she’d brought along. Altair watched the scenery pass by, his mind drifting.

He thought about the past year. Everything that had happened. The Herald attack. Master Oz’s training. The exams. The friendships he’d made.

And he thought about what was waiting for him at ho.

He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the present.

One step at a ti.

---

They stopped once to allow the attendants to rest. The stop was brief—about thirty minutes—at a way station designed specifically for noble travelers. Ryka stretched her legs and grabbed sothing to eat from the station’s dining hall, and Altair did the sa.

Then they were back on the road.

As the sun began to set, the carriage crested a hill, and Valthoria ca into view.

The capital city sprawled across the valley below, its towering spires and ancient fortifications visible even from this distance. The Valthoria River cut through the city’s center, glittering gold in the fading light.

It was beautiful. Imposing. A city built on centuries of power and tradition.

Altair felt sothing tighten in his chest.

Ho.

For better or worse.

The carriage descended the hill and entered the city proper. The streets were wide and clean, lined with buildings that ranged from elegant townhouses to grand estates. People moved through the streets with purpose—rchants, nobles, guards in polished armor.

Ryka leaned forward, pointing out the window. "That’s the Drakenheart estate," she said, gesturing toward a massive compound on the eastern side of the city. "We’ll be stopping there first."

Altair nodded. "And the Elfender estate?"

"North of the city. About an hour’s ride from here."

The carriage turned onto a wide boulevard, and a few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the Drakenheart gates.

The estate was enormous—easily comparable in size to the Elfender manor. High stone walls surrounded the property, and the main house was a sprawling structure of dark stone and red tile, with multiple wings and a central tower that rose high above the roofline.

The carriage ca to a stop, and Corvin opened the door.

Ryka stepped out first, then turned back to Altair. "This is . Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? My mother would be happy to have you."

Altair shook his head. "Thank you, but I should get ho. It’s already late."

Ryka nodded, understanding. "Alright. But text when you get there, okay?"

"I will."

She hesitated, then smiled. "It was good traveling with you."

"You too."

Ryka gave a small wave, then turned and walked through the gates.

Altair watched her go, then settled back into his seat as Saul closed the door.

The carriage pulled away from the Drakenheart estate and headed north.

---

The sun had fully set by the ti they reached the Elfender estate.

The manor sat atop a low hill, surrounded by ticulously maintained grounds. The main house was built from pale gray stone, with tall windows and a slate roof. It was elegant, austere, and cold.

Just like Altair rembered.

The carriage stopped at the front gates, and Saul stepped down to retrieve Altair’s trunk.

"Here you are, Lord Elfender," he said, setting the trunk beside the gate.

"Thank you" Altair said, stepping down from the carriage.

The attendant bowed. "Goodbye, my lord."

The carriage pulled away, disappearing back down the hill.

Altair stood alone in front of the gates, his trunk at his feet.

He looked up at the manor, its windows glowing faintly with lamplight.

He took a deep breath.

Then he picked up his trunk and walked through the gates.