My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

The sudden, violent severance of Sara’s life force tore through the canopy like a physical blade.

High above the forest floor, mid-stride between two ancient pine branches, Kira choked on her own breath. The agonizing feedback hit her like an iron hammer to the chest. Across her skin, her soul-matrix shuddered as the connection to Sara snapped into cold, empty nada.

Her foot slipped on the sap-slick bark.

It was a fraction of an inch—a mistake no master assassin of the Death Crows would ever commit under normal circumstances. But as her eyes widened in disbelieving horror, her hand fumbled at her leather utility belt. Three glass vials clinked together prematurely, spilling from her grip and plunging into the foliage below.

”Sara...” her mind screamed, the grief turning instantly into a wild, feral panic.

She forced herself to recover, twisting her body in mid-air and landing hard on a lower bough. Below her, standing in a serene circle of flowing wind currents, Lyrielle didn’t miss the opening.

The high-elf lowered her staff, her emerald eyes sharp and unblinking. ”Your focus is gone,” Lyrielle said softly. ”Yield.”

”Shut up! Shut your mouth!” Kira shrieked, her voice cracking with hysterical rage.

She slapped her hands against her pouch, pulling four volatile alchemical glass globes between her fingers. Shadow-stepping off the branch in a blur of dark mist, she hurled them downward in rapid succession.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

The vials shattered in mid-air. One burst into a cloud of sizzling, dark-green acid that ate through pine needles and tree bark in seconds; another exploded into a flash-bang of blinding white phosphorus; the third unleashed a billowing screen of jet-black choke-smoke.

Kira moved behind the chemical chaos, her shadow-daggers bared, aiming straight for Lyrielle’s throat.

Lyrielle didn’t flinch. She simply swept her wooden staff in a wide, elegant arc.

[Gale Domain: Reversal Tempest]

A localized hurricane erupted around the high-elf. The howling wind currents caught the expanding cloud of acid and choke-smoke, instantly redirecting the corrosive vapors backward into the canopy. The shockwave detonated the remaining flash-vials prematurely, filling the tree line with harmless sparks.

Kira emerged from the smoke, her eyes burning from the stray fumes, only to find Lyrielle already tracking her trajectory with terrifying precision.

Driven into a corner, Kira reached for the hidden pocket inside her vest. She pulled out a reinforced obsidian flask—her most dangerous, highly concentrated shock-paralytic compound. Designed to immobilize heavy monsters, the gas was so potent that a single inhaled droplet could freeze a warrior’s nervous system instantly.

”Burn in it!” Kira spat, slamming the flask into the ground directly between them.

THUMP-CRACK!

A dense, pale-purple fog erupted outward, expanding like a ravenous beast to envelop both of them.

Lyrielle’s eyes narrowed. She planted her staff into the soil, channeling her mana directly into the atmosphere above.

[Atmospheric Compression: Vacuum Sphere]

Instead of blowing the gas away, the air pressure around Kira inverted. A powerful vacuum imploded around the assassin, forcibly pulling every trace of the purple paralytic vapor backward and sealing it into a tight, swirling sphere centered directly on Kira.

Before Kira could trigger a shadow-step to escape the pocket, Lyrielle struck the base of her staff against the earth. A localized air-blast slammed into the sphere, forcing the compressed paralytic gas straight into Kira’s mouth and nose.

Kira gasped—and instantly regretted it.

The shock-paralytic hit her bloodstream like liquid ice. Her muscles seized up instantly. Her shadow-daggers slipped from her numb fingers, clattering uselessly against the roots. Her knees locked, and she collapsed forward onto the dirt face-first.

She was completely immobilized. Her lungs could barely expand to draw shallow breaths, her vocal cords locked tight. Only her eyes could move, staring helplessly up at the forest floor in horrified paralysis.

Lyrielle stepped through the settling dust, her boots silent against the moss. She looked down at the helpless assassin with a mixture of solemn pity and firm resolve.

”It is over,” Lyrielle murmured, resting the tip of her staff near Kira’s shoulder. ”I’m assuming you won’t be able to move for hours.”

---

A hundred paces away, in the central clearing, the battle-shock of Sara’s death was having a far more violent reaction.

THROB.

On Vesper’s exposed forearm, the dark ink of his bat tattoo flared with a nauseating, blood-red light before charring into a dull, ash-gray scar.

Vesper stood frozen, his dark blades trembling in his grip. Brian. Gideon. And now Sara.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat—a sound that barely belonged to a human. His breath hitched, his eyes turning entirely black as the last remnants of his cold, calculating assassin persona shattered into pure, unadulterated grief and rage.

”Vince...” Vesper hissed, his voice trembling with terrifying intensity.

A suffocating, pitch-black aura erupted from Vesper’s body, tearing up the earth around him. He didn’t care about tactics anymore. He didn’t care about survival. He leaped forward in a berserk frenzy, his shadow-blades leaving spatial tears in the air as he rained down a relentless, murderous onslaught upon Vince.

Vince stood his ground amidst the storm of dark blades. He didn’t summon a single drop of water.

Instead, Vince’s crimson dragon-scales flared across his arms and chest, reflecting the frantic, lethal strikes of Vesper’s daggers with deafening CLANGS. Vince’s dark dragon aura surged upward, heavy and oppressive, casually deflecting the berserk assassin’s spatial strikes with sheer, brute physical weight and raw mana pressure. Vince met Vesper’s bloodshot eyes with a cold, unyielding stare, holding the line effortlessly as the final clash reached its boiling point.

---

Back in the quiet shadows beneath the pine trees, Lyrielle turned her gaze toward the main clearing, sensing the massive spike in Vesper’s aura.

”Stay down,” Lyrielle said softly to the paralyzed Kira before walking toward the sound of Vince’s battle.

On the dirt, Kira lay completely frozen. She couldn’t lift a finger. She couldn’t scream. The paralytic compound locked her body in an iron grip.

To anyone looking, she was entirely defeated—a harmless, immobilized prisoner.

Set beneath the shadows of her parted lips, hidden on the underside of her paralyzed tongue, a tiny, intricate Crow sigil began to pulse.

It didn’t burn with normal mana. It glowed with a faint, eerie, dangerous light—flickering softly in the dark of her mouth, waiting for the right moment to strike.