Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

“It’s…” Min began, clearly searching for words.

“A glorified tadpole?” Liu suggested, unable to contain a mocking smile.

“It’s perfect,” Min corrected, marveling at the creature. “My invisible amphibian. Well, almost invisible.”

The translucent being rippled through the air with fluid grace. Its tiny body caught the light occasionally, revealing glimpses of intricate internal structures.

“It’s still in the initial phase,” Ren explained. “As it evolves, its invisibility capability will improve. For now, it’s rather translucent.”

Taro leaned in to observe more closely. “It’s quite… small.” He squinted, following the creature’s movements with fascinated skepticism.

“That will change too,” Ren assured. His mushrooms pulsed confidently, as if sharing a secret only they knew about the creature’s potential.

“For now,” added Liu with a malicious smile, “it seems you’ve established a bond with a small animated blob of mucus.”

Min shot him a withering look. “Laugh all you want. When I can infiltrate where no one else can reach, I won’t share any information with you.”

“Sure,” Taro joined the teasing, “because we’re all dying to know the school gossip like you and Han.”

Despite the jokes, the pride on Min’s face was undeniable. His amphibian, small as it was, was the undeniable symbol that he had transformed into a double tamer. The achievement radiated from him, practically visible in the way he held himself taller.

Ren observed the scene with satisfaction. The first egg had hatched correctly, validating his techniques and calculations. The others would follow soon, and with each new beast, their collective forces would strengthen.

While Min continued marveling at his new beast, and Taro and Liu competed to create the best mocking nicknames for the creature, Ren directed his attention toward the other nests.

♢♢♢♢

“Here,” said Ren, extending a thin but meticulously bound book toward Min. “Here’s everything you need to know about your amphibian for now: development cycles, specific cultivation techniques, elemental compatibilities.”

Min took the book with reverence, running his fingers over the cover where Ren had drawn the silhouette of his amphibian in its more developed form. The illustration showed a sleeker, more defined creature with extended limbs and complex gill structures.

“You wrote it so quickly?” he asked, leafing through the pages densely covered with precise diagrams and carefully annotated text.

“Yes,” Ren responded while adjusting the conditions of Zhao’s nest, which showed signs of being close to fully forming. The crystalline structure pulsed with slightly increased frequency, and the internal energies had begun to align in preparation. “Though sections about advanced interactions with other beasts are still missing.”

Liu, who was observing from his desk, closed the elementary theory book he was studying. “And will I get one when my egg is ready, boss?”

Ren nodded, his mushrooms pulsing softly. “I’ve already started writing it, but with everything that’s happened… I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to progress.”

“Don’t rush,” Liu shrugged, a casual smile on his face. “Anyway, I have you here to ask directly. It’s better than any book.”

“Speak for yourself,” Min interjected, without looking up from the manual. “Some of us prefer to have clear instructions that don’t disappear when Ren decides to get lost alone or kidnaped by the girls.”

Ren continued working in silence, but his mushrooms briefly pulsed with what his companions now recognized as his version of a laugh.

The following days passed in an almost normal routine. Ren divided his time between classes, creating new eggs, and attending to existing ones.

It was during a particularly quiet afternoon when Taro burst into the room.

“Ren,” he announced, “Professor Wei wants to see you. He says it’s important.”

Ren looked up from the nest he was adjusting, a slight frown appearing on his face. His relationship with Wei had been tense since the classroom incident, though the won bet had established a certain forced respect.

“Did he tell you what for?”

“Something about research,” Taro replied, sitting on his bed. “Seems he’s been reviewing all the literature on iron beasts with short cultivation cycles, the ones we used for the first exam. I think he wants your help to correct it.”

Ren considered the information. He wasn’t particularly interested in helping Wei, but the prospect of correcting erroneous information that affected so many fellow students was tempting.

“I told him I’d let you know and if you decided to go, you’d see him in the library after the last class,” Taro continued. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Ren shook his head. “It’s fine.”

When the day’s last class ended, Ren headed to the library. The vast space, with its shelves reaching the ceiling and tables strategically scattered to maximize concentration, was unusually empty. Most students preferred to study in their rooms or in groups since the attack.

At a secluded table, surrounded by piles of books and scrolls, he found Wei. The professor looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his normally impeccable tunic slightly wrinkled. He was so absorbed in an old tome that he didn’t notice Ren’s presence until he was standing directly across the table.

“Ah, Patinder,” Wei started slightly. “Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat.”

Ren sat across from the professor, observing with interest the texts scattered about. He recognized several treatises on iron rank cultivation, along with some standard academy manuals and what appeared to be original field notes.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Wei seemed to be struggling to find the right words, nervously reorganizing some papers in front of him.

“I’ve been… researching,” he finally began, avoiding direct eye contact. “About initial beasts.”

Ren nodded, patiently waiting for Wei to get to the point.

“The thing is…” Wei cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “Your intervention in class raised… significant… doubts about the accuracy of our teaching materials.”

Another silence. Wei drummed his fingers on the table.

“I’ve been comparing our texts with recent field observations and…” Wei finally looked up, facing Ren directly.

The professor breathed deeply, as if gathering courage for what was to follow.

“I was wrong,” he finally admitted.

Ren maintained his neutral expression, though his mushrooms pulsed slightly faster, registering his mild surprise at this admission.

“The literature varies somewhat in its number of cultivation days, and that would be explained with an explanation of mana quantities from you for some reason… I need help to verify it,” Wei continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. “I’ve secured authorization to include an optional section in the final exam that follows your… alternative cultivation methods.”

This truly captured Ren’s complete attention. His mushrooms brightened noticeably, their pulses quickening with interest.

“It won’t be mandatory,” Wei quickly clarified. “There’s little time for students to adapt to such a fundamental change.”

“But it’s a beginning.”