My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

The high-frequency distress flares over the inner city rings didn’t just illuminate the water in blood-red light—they signaled the total, systematic collapse of an empire.

Within forty minutes of the massacre at House Aris, two more beacons extinguished in rapid succession. House Belor’s coral keep had been reduced to a silent graveyard, its kinetic defense arrays deadened before a single spear could be thrown. Less than fifteen minutes later, the hydro-comm channels went entirely mute regarding House Thalor.

Seven noble anchors destroyed. Seven living chains severed.

In the grand marble vestibule outside the High Sanctuary, the air was thick with the copper stench of fear. Dozens of high-ranking Vanguard officers paced frantically, their hydro-mana shields flickering irregularly as panic sapped their concentration.

At the center of the hall stood General Nerissa.

She wore no formal parade armor today—only her heavy, dark-sapphire battle plate, forged from abyssal iron. Her golden eyes were unnaturally bright, glowing with a cold, terrifying intensity that kept even her highest captains at a distance. Beside her, trembling beneath a heavy velvet cloak, stood the young heir to House Ariel’s branch lineage—the eighth and final noble anchor alive in Nethros.

”General,” a captain choked out, his fins trembling. ”The outer rings have breached. The garrisons at the trench line aren’t responding. We must evacuate the heir to the deep trenches outside the city—”

”No,” Nerissa’s voice cut through the hall like a razor blade, cold and absolute. ”He controls the currents in the open water. Out there, he is a ghost. In here, within the ancient stone of the High Sanctuary, he will face the full weight of the tide.”

She turned toward the massive, runic-reinforced double doors of the sanctuary. Her tail lashed against the marble floor, driving a sharp, localized shockwave through the water that knocked three surrounding guards to their knees.

”Barricade the inner perimeter,” Nerissa commanded, her voice resounding with the weight of a supreme military commander who knew she was standing on the edge of a cliff. ”No one enters. No one leaves. If the final anchor falls, Nethros dies today. I will tear the ocean apart before I allow him to touch this child.”

---

Three levels above the sanctuary, perched on a darkened stone balcony overlooking the chaotic courtyard, Vince leaned his back against a massive marble pillar.

He had discarded his prison chains. His thick forearms were bare, showing the deep, fading red indentations where the abyssal iron manacles had rested only an hour before.

Beside him, Lyrielle was practically vibrating with nervous energy, her fingers clutching her sides so tightly her knuckles were white. Vetra crouched near the edge of the balustrade, her amber eyes scanning the frantic movement of the guard platoons below.

”Vince, we shouldn’t be standing up here in the open!” Lyrielle whispered urgently, her dark eyes wide as she looked back at him. ”Seven anchors are gone. The entire royal seal is hanging by a single thread! The prophecy... the old siren’s warning... it’s happening right now! When the eighth anchor breaks, the primordial god beneath the city will wake up and swallow everything!”

Vince didn’t even turn his head. He reached down, calmly adjusting the leather strap on his forearm, his expression completely flat.

”Let her stress,” Vince said, his deep voice devoid of any panic.

Lyrielle blinked, stunned. ”What?”

”The prophecy,” Vince said, tilting his chin slightly toward the courtyard below where Nerissa was issuing her final, desperate orders. ”You’re treating ancient rhymes like a script you have to follow. I don’t care about the siren, and I don’t care about the details.”

”Vince, the entire realm is going to drown!” Lyrielle pressed, stepping closer to him. ”If that rogue merman kills the child down there, the seal snaps!”

”And when the seal snaps, the whole kingdom’s structure dies with it,” Vince replied smoothly, turning his dark, calculating gaze onto Lyrielle. ”Look at her down there, Lyrielle. Look at General Nerissa.”

Lyrielle paused, looking down at the sapphire-armored merman general.

From up here, Nerissa looked imposing, terrifying, and resolute—a wall of absolute military authority. But Vince’s sharp, un-magical perception saw through the posture. He saw the tight, rigid tension in her shoulders, the micro-tremors in her webbed hands, and the desperate, suffocating pride of a leader who knew her world was crumbling around her ears.

”She’s a fanatic,” Vince grunted softly, a faint, cold smirk touching his lips. ”Her entire identity is built on being the unbreakable shield of Nethros. She’s arrogant, rigid, and she thinks hydro-mana and duty make her invincible. As long as that kingdom stands, she’ll never yield to an outsider. She’d rather die executing me in a cell than listen to a word I say.”

Vetra turned her head, a slow, knowing grin spreading across her sharp face. ”So you’re waiting for her world to burn.”

”I came to Nethros for two things,” Vince said, his voice dropping into a low, iron tone that made Lyrielle’s skin prickle. ”The Tide Core... and a tamed general. You can’t break a woman like Nerissa while she’s sitting on a throne surrounded by ten thousand spears. You break her when everything she swore to protect turns to ash in her hands.”

Lyrielle stared at him, a shiver running down her spine. ”You’re... you’re letting him attack her on purpose.”

”I’m not letting him do anything,” Vince corrected, looking back down at the sanctuary doors. ”The rogue is a force of nature. He wants his revolution. Nerissa wants her duty. I’m just the guy standing in the shadows waiting for the dust to settle so I can pick up the pieces.”

A sudden, terrifying drop in water pressure rippled through the upper balcony.

The glowing bioluminescent lamps lining the courtyard suddenly flickered and died. The ambient hum of the ocean current vanished in an instant, replaced by a heavy, suffocating, dead silence that made the guards below freeze in total terror.

Vince straightened up from the pillar, his eyes narrowing as he felt the air-water boundary around the palace stagnate.

”He’s here,” Vetra whispered, reaching for her daggers.

Down in the courtyard, the massive iron-reinforced doors of the High Sanctuary began to frost over with ice-white abyssal runes.

Vince crossed his arms, his dark eyes locked onto the solitary figure gliding down from the dark ceiling vault above. A slow, vicious smile spread across his face as the stage was set.

”Show me what you’ve got, General,” Vince whispered into the dead air. ”Let’s see how long your pride holds up.”