Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

While Zhao began to familiarize himself with his new beast, Ren mentally reviewed his upcoming projects. Lin’s egg was close to completion, then would come Liu’s, and shortly before the end of the semester, those for the noble cousins.

The annotation work with Wei was progressing exceptionally well, recording the first phase of the project at a good pace… The professor seemed renewed, as if he truly cared more about knowledge than ego since Ren had defeated him. The pride that had once clouded his judgment had given way to genuine scientific curiosity.

But not all projects were advancing; one of them encountered a pause for the first time.

One that seemed like a distant dream.

“Rest,” Lin declared firmly, crossing her arms while observing Ren with an inflexible expression.

The silence that followed this simple word was so profound that one could have heard a pin drop. In the room, four faces looked at her with varying degrees of disbelief.

“Pardon?” Taro was the first to recover his voice. “Did you just say ‘rest’?”

“Exactly,” Lin nodded. “Ren will take a break from morning training sessions too, not just the nightly ones… for the remainder of the semester.”

Min let out a laugh that he quickly suppressed when he saw that Lin’s expression didn’t change. “Wait, are you serious? Ren? Rest?”

“I think you’ve confused your student,” Liu interjected from his desk, without looking up from the book he was reading. “Ren no longer knows that word. It’s not in his vocabulary anymore.”

Lin ignored the comments, keeping her attention on Ren, whose mushrooms pulsed with what appeared to be confusion. The soft light fluctuated in an irregular pattern, betraying his internal surprise.

“The medicine has reached its limit of effectiveness,” she explained. “Forcing more growth at this point could cause damage.”

“But I feel fine,” Ren protested, touching his arms as if to demonstrate his point. “Better than ever, in fact.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Lin responded, and something in her tone suggested she had noticed much more than she was saying. “Your body seems to regenerate in… unusual ways since the underground incident with the seed.”

A tense silence followed this observation. Lin’s suspicions were evident, though she didn’t fully verbalize them.

“Listen,” she continued, her voice softening slightly. “I’m not interested in theories about how you acquired that accelerated regeneration. I don’t believe you stole the relic out of selfishness, and frankly, it’s not my job to investigate that matter.”

Ren maintained his neutral expression, but his mushrooms briefly pulsed with what could be interpreted as relief. The light dimmed momentarily before returning to its normal intensity.

“But,” Lin raised a finger to emphasize, “as your instructor, it’s my responsibility to ensure your development is healthy and sustainable. Since I don’t know what that regeneration increase is about or how it works, I’m not going to take it into account… And rest is also part of growth. We will allow the medicine and your body to stabilize as if normal.”

Min pretended to faint onto his bed. “It’s the end of the world. Lin is recommending rest. Next news: the Goldcrests open a flower shop with Jin at the counter!”

Taro threw a pillow toward Min, though he couldn’t contain his own smile. “Shut up or she’ll make us train twice as much while Ren enjoys his vacation.”

Lin ignored the antics again, keeping her gaze fixed on Ren. “We’ll begin next semester with a completely new level of training and more advanced medicine. For now, you need to allow your body to assimilate everything it has learned.”

She approached Ren to place a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was unexpectedly gentle, almost parental.

“And don’t you want to be rested and at your best for the final battle exam?” Lin smiled slightly. “It’s no longer a matter of defending your honor. This time, I want you to obtain the crushing victory you deserve. Let the ‘weak’ boy I adopted show what hard work can achieve.”

Ren seemed to consider Lin’s words, his mushrooms pulsing in a thoughtful pattern. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. “It’s not just effort, I’ve been very lucky… But I suppose I could use that time for other projects.”

“Of course that’s what you understood by ‘rest,’” Liu murmured, shaking his head.

“Speaking of projects,” Ren continued, ignoring the comment, “in two days your egg will be ready, Master Lin.”

Lin’s eyes briefly lit up with something resembling enthusiasm, though she quickly returned to her usual composure. “Thank you. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

As Lin headed toward the door, Min rose from his feigned faint. “So there will be no night exercises for the rest of the semester?”

“Oh, the exercises will continue for you, Min,” Lin responded over her shoulder, a dangerous smile forming on her lips. “In fact, I just thought of some special exercises to compensate for Ren’s absence.”

Min’s horrified groan followed Lin as she closed the door, leaving the boys alone with this new and improbable reality: Ren Patinder, officially obligated to rest.

“Well,” Taro said after a moment, “that was unexpected.”

“Completely,” Liu nodded. “Though I suspect Lin is right.”

Ren remained silent, his mushrooms pulsing slowly as he considered this new directive. Rest wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with, but if Lin insisted it was necessary for his development…

A small smile appeared on Ren’s lips.

“Lin said that I’ll rest… but you lot won’t have any yet, it’s time for the daily routine I supervise for you… So get up, you scrawny insects!”

♢♢♢♢

Mei’s class continued to be very active.

But it wasn’t the only one that had experienced this increase in competitiveness. A similar phenomenon occurred in Wei’s and Zhao’s classes, where preparation for final exams was almost palpable in the air. More incisive questions, more heated debates, and unprecedented attention to detail now characterized these sessions.

Klein, Luna and Jin had become particularly vocal, each attempting to outdo the other while simultaneously trying to surpass Ren’s performance. Their newfound academic enthusiasm had transformed even the driest topics into occasions for fierce intellectual competition.

However, for Yang and Lin, the dynamics were different. The battle subject didn’t lend itself to this type of verbal competition; its final exam followed a completely different methodology.

While their colleagues enjoyed the renewed academic fervor in their classrooms, Lin and Yang prepared something more physical, more immediate, more revealing: a tournament. An event that would not only test the students’ combat skills but would reveal aspects of their character that no written exam could capture.

It would be the perfect culmination of a semester filled with unexpected developments and shifting perceptions.