My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

The morning sun crested over the jagged volcanic peaks of Ignis-Vara, painting the ash-dusted streets in brilliant shades of gold and burnt orange.

Outside the back of the inn, Vetra lay sprawled across a patch of dry grass, snoring softly. Her arms and legs were spread wide, an empty wooden tankard still loosely clutched in her hand from her late-night drinking bout with the dragonkin guards.

She stirred as a shadow fell over her face. Cracking one Amber eye open, she saw Vince squatted down right in front of her, his arms resting casually over his knees. Lyrielle stood just a step behind him, looking freshly dressed in a traveling cloak, her cheeks still carrying a soft, rosy glow.

”Finally awake,”

Vince said, reaching out to give Vetra’s messy black hair a firm, affectionate pat.

Vetra blinked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her forearm as she sat up. She looked down at her dusty clothes, then up at the pair.

”Where are we going? You two look like you’re ready for a march.”

”We’re heading out to the Glass Sea,” Vince replied, standing up and stretching his broad shoulders.

”With any luck, you’ll find someone strong enough to give you a proper fight along the way.”

A bright, feral grin instantly broke across Vetra’s face.

”The Glass Sea? Now you’re talking! Let’s get on with it!”

She pushed herself up off the ground, shaking the grass from her tunic. But as she took a step toward them, her nose twitched. She stopped dead in her tracks.

Vetra narrowed her slitted eyes, taking a deep, deliberate sniff of the morning air. Her gaze slowly shifted from Vince over to Lyrielle. She stepped closer, leaning in and sniffing again with a hard, suspicious squint.

Vince, instantly sensing the exact direction this conversation was heading, let out an innocent, casual whistle. He scratched the back of his neck and started walking forward.

”Right then, daylight’s burning—”

”Heyyy! Where do you think you’re going, Vince?!” Vetra barked, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. She lunged forward, chasing after him.

”Why does she have your scent all over her?!”

”Shit,” Vince muttered.

FLASH!

Vince activated Vector Drive, blurring five paces ahead to easily evade her reaching hands.

”Oh, quit being jealous!”

Vince called back over his shoulder, offering a lazy grin.

”You had my scent all over you a few days back, too!”

Vetra froze mid-stride. Her expression shifted from outrage to a slow, wicked smirk.

”Is that so? Why don’t you help me remember?”

Lyrielle’s jaw dropped in absolute shock. The blushing elf immediately pivoted, her emerald eyes snapping toward Vince with lethal intent.

”You—!, explain yourself right now!”

Now both women were chasing him down the alleyway.

Seems like I made things ten times worse,

Vince thought, holding back an amused sigh.

With a flick of his wrist, Vince focused his mind and tapped into the spiritual bond connecting them.

”Stay put.”

The command of his Sovereign Authority pulsed through the air. The glowing purple crest on Vetra’s lap flared brightly, and her body instantly locked in place mid-sprint, forcing her to a complete stop against her will. She let out an annoyed, pouting groan.

Lyrielle, however, was bound by no such authority.

She closed the distance in a flash, catching up to Vince and landing a sharp, stinging smack directly to the back of his head.

”Ow,”

Vince deadpanned, though a sheepish, unbothered smile remained plastered on his face as he turned to face her.

”Alright, alright. Enough playing around. We need to get moving.”

Vince turned back toward the frozen dragonkin girl.

”Vetra. Transform and take us East.”

”Yes, Vince,” Vetra replied obediently, her body instantly freed from the command as the purple crest settled into a soft glow.

She turned and sprinted toward the edge of a ridge, leaping high into the open sky. In mid-air, a blinding surge of violet mana erupted around her form.

Muscles expanded, scales erupted along her skin, and massive leathery wings unfurled with a thunderous crack. In a matter of seconds, the fierce warrior vanished, replaced by a majestic, dark-scaled dragon gliding through the thermal updrafts.

Vince looked over at Lyrielle, offering her his hand.

”Our turn.”

”Huh?”

Before she could process the thought, Vince scooped her up into his arms in a tight princess carry. He bent his knees, channeling raw physical force into his legs.

CRACK!

The volcanic stone beneath his boots shattered into spiderweb fractures as Vince launched them straight into the sky like a cannonball.

Up above, Vetra banked sharply, flying directly beneath their trajectory. She flapped her massive wings, hovering steadily in place to catch them.

Vince descended gracefully through the clouds, landing on her broad, scaled back with absolute precision. He set Lyrielle down behind him, holding onto the base of Vetra’s neck for stability.

”Alright, Vetra,” Vince called out, his dark coat whipping wildly in the wind.

”Head East!”

«Aye»

Vetra let out a deafening, sky-shaking roar that echoed across the entire mountain range before snapping her wings back and surging forward into the clouds.

”Hold on tight, Elle!”

Vince shouted back over the roar of the wind.

Lyrielle didn’t hesitate—she wrapped her arms tightly around Vince’s waist from behind, pressing her face against his back as the world blurred beneath them.

Vince looked out toward the distant eastern horizon, his eyes cold and calculating.

Not long now, Duke Owen.

Far below on the highest balcony of the royal pavilion, Chief Ignar stood quietly, watching the great black dragon streak across the morning sky until it became a tiny speck on the horizon.

A warm, proud smile touched the old dragonkin’s lips as he raised a quiet toast with his wooden cup.

Thousands of miles away, in a sprawling, sun-drenched human settlement along the border lands.

The ambient noise of a crowded, smoke-filled gambling den echoed with the clatter of dice, spilled ale, and greedy shouts. In the dim corner of the room, far away from the noisy tables, a cold, slender figure sat alone in the shadows.

He wore dark leather coat, with twin ornate daggers strapped crosswise at his belt. His pale fingers deftly flipped a thick, blood-red coin back and forth across his knuckles with mesmerizing speed.

A low-ranking mercenary approached the table nervously, leaning down to whisper into his ear.

”The Duke has requested your immediate presence.”

The slender figure caught the blood-red coin flat in his palm and slid it quietly into his pocket. He stood up without making a sound, his icy eyes gleaming beneath the fringe of his hood.

”Tell him I’m on my way.”