Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Kharzan kept his attention fixed ahead as if he could see through the wall.

There, ahead, a solitary figure surely still stood disrespecting his army on the road forward.

According to reports, Sirius Starweaver seemed to be slowly retreating, keeping himself just outside the range of foot soldiers, as if he were carefully measuring the distance.

He didn’t seem to be doing anything threatening. He was just there, observing the advance with the patience of someone who perhaps expected something specific to happen.

Kharzan didn’t understand what kind of purpose or utility such behavior had. Was it really a distraction? Or simply the arrogance of a man who refused to accept the reality of being outnumbered and outpowered?

The numbers should have been overwhelming for anyone. Twenty thousand soldiers against one man, no matter how skilled, should be an inevitable victory. Yet something in Sirius’s calm demeanor suggested he knew something Kharzan didn’t.

“Maintain formation,” Kharzan murmured to General Valdris, who advanced at his side. “No matter what he’s planning. Our troops will continue gathering until the complete march is unstoppable and flanks those blocking the bridge. A single man cannot ever stop us.”

“Understood, my Lord,” Valdris responded, though his tone suggested he too felt something was strange about the situation.

The troops continued their inexorable march. They already had about 13,000 soldiers and soon the complete forces would join, 20,000 soldiers would be an unstoppable mass. The numbers were on their side, the strategy was solid, and victory seemed inevitable.

Sirius continued retreating, step by step, maintaining that precise distance as if he were executing some type of ritual.

Then there was a small tremor.

Barely perceptible at first, a vibration that might have been caused by so many soldiers marching in formation. But there was something different about the sensation, something that didn’t fit with the natural rhythm of the military march.

The tremor intensified slightly, and Kharzan felt a strange sudden weakness in his legs.

Without warning, he fell to his knees.

It wasn’t fatigue, it wasn’t a wound… it was as if something fundamental had been altered in his own body. The sensation was disorienting, like having his very essence disconnected from his physical form.

“My Lord!” Valdris immediately approached, genuine concern in his voice. “What’s happening?”

Kharzan tried to respond, but the words didn’t come. His mind felt strangely clouded, as if he were seeing the world through thick fog.

“My Lord!” A messenger approached flying from the rear, his urgency cutting through the air. “Report from the wall!”

But Kharzan didn’t react. His eyes remained fixed on Valdris, but his expression was empty, distant.

Valdris automatically took charge.

“Report,” he ordered the messenger.

“The abyss wall no longer has soldiers, General,” the messenger reported quickly. “It appears they’ll try to intercept us with between 2,000 and 4,000 soldiers from the wall just before reaching the bridge.”

Valdris frowned. It was a significant force, but manageable given their big numerical superiority.

“Anything else?”

Before the first messenger could respond, another approached from a different direction.

“General Valdris!” the second messenger shouted. “Massive attack reported in the center of Goldcrest territory! We don’t have casualty information yet!”

Valdris felt a chill of alarm. Simultaneous attacks on multiple fronts weren’t coincidence.

“My Lord!” he tried to get Kharzan’s attention again, but the leader remained motionless, as if in a trance.

A third messenger arrived, this one practically jumping from his beast.

“General! Sirius is glowing! It looks like he’s charging some kind of attack! We request permission to attack with flying patrols!”

Valdris looked ahead and could see it was true. An intense light was beginning to be visible from the highest part of the wall, surely Sirius’s work, and it continued growing in intensity with each passing second.

“My Lord!” he tried once more to wake Kharzan. “We need orders!”

But Kharzan remained completely motionless, his eyes fixed but empty, as if something had disconnected his consciousness from the surrounding world.

♢♢♢♢

In the heart of Goldcrest territory, Kassian found himself somewhat battered in front of a crystal wall that hadn’t existed moments before.

His room had been split in half, furniture scattered like broken toys, and his surprise, which had been enormous, could be seen on his face… very probably looking the same as most others in this Goldcrest castle right now.

He didn’t know how his mother, sisters, or other relatives were doing after what had just happened.

The crystal wall before him wasn’t simply that. In fact, it was the tiniest visible part of an enormous ice crystal that extended throughout the building. Its emergence had been what created such chaos, splitting walls, destroying structures, converting entire sections of the castle into a frozen nightmare.

Only one person was capable of such a display of power.

The voice of the mentioned person in Kassian’s mind emerged from the crystal, a voice colder than the icy environment her power had generated.

“A promise must be fulfilled,” Selphira murmured, her tone carrying the inevitability of winter itself.

She emerged from the crystal as if she had been part of it, her form materializing from the ice with a grace that belied the violence of her arrival. Her silver hair shone with frost, and her eyes contained the coldness of murderous determination.

Kassian gritted his teeth, feeling how between his eyes and temples the purple marks of his abyssal corruption began to glow. His beasts stirred beneath his skin, ready for combat.

But Selphira laughed…

“Better not even try,” she told him with the patience of someone explaining something obvious to a child. “At least not right now… Your time hasn’t come yet.”

She moved closer, and Kassian could feel how the temperature dropped with each step she took.

“The first head on my ice spear will be your father’s.”

Kassian gritted his teeth with pure annoyance, but didn’t launch into aggression. Despite the rage boiling in his chest, he knew he was at a disadvantage. Selphira Ashenway was a living legend, a tamer whose control over huge power had grown for centuries.

Facing her directly in his current state would be suicide.

“With this,” Selphira continued, gesturing toward the destruction she had caused, “surely messengers will warn your father. And perhaps then he’ll be a man and show his face.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Otherwise I’ll have to extract him from the heart of that march of thousands of easily deceived idiots and there will be more casualties than necessary.”

She turned to leave, but stopped at the threshold she had created in the crystal wall.

“You do well to respect your house arrest,” she told him over her shoulder. “But better not get comfortable. Because you and the other parasites who revel in this place’s feasts are the second part of my promise.”

A frozen smile crossed her face.

“Scream or call for help to speed things up and give Kharzan a reason to ‘get angry’, be a good puppy and cry. Bring him to me.”

And with that, she melted back into the ice, disappearing as if she had never been there.

♢♢♢♢

Selphira appeared at the base of the enormous ice block she had generated to destroy the “emptiest” part of the castle. The massive structure rose like an artificial mountain, having crushed or frozen everything in its path.

Leonel waited for her there, his eyes shining with some admiration and a bit of concern.

“Was it necessary to hold back?” he asked, observing the controlled destruction she had caused.

“I need Kharzan to have a reason to stop,” Selphira responded, adjusting the gloves covering her hands. “If I simply massacre everyone, he won’t have motivation to come personally.”

“Don’t you think they’ll escape?”

Selphira shrugged with indifference.

“I don’t care about them. Once outside the territory they’ll be irrelevant to me.” Her eyes hardened. “But if they stay, I’ll have to hunt them. And perhaps some are less guilty than others…”

She looked toward the horizon in the direction of the bridge, where Kharzan should be receiving the message at this moment.

“Don’t you want to stay here to monitor communications with some of the Black Serpents?” she asked Leonel. “We could ensure that no suicidal message like ‘keep going, father’ leaves without our knowledge.”

Leonel thought for a moment, calculating the political and personal implications of the suggestion. Wouldn’t it be more glorious to follow her to the front?

“It would be the achievement of ‘obtaining the core of the Goldcrest territory’,” Selphira continued, sweetening the proposal. “If you keep it dominated, it’s yours as a political card.”

The offer was tempting… real territory, genuine political power, the opportunity to establish himself as something more than the adoptive son of an ‘immortal’ matriarch.

In the end, Leonel nodded.

“Fine… I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” Selphira smiled. “Keep the survivors controlled but alive. We’ll need them to negotiate with Kharzan if he’s still alive when I catch him. We must stop Yino’s entry through his territory and I’m sure he knows exactly where they might be entering through.”

She turned around.

“Are you leaving already?” Leonel asked.

“The battlefield doesn’t wait… of course,” Selphira responded. “I can’t stay to wait and see if Kharzan comes to me voluntarily, I have to go find him.”

Her eyes shone with icy anticipation.

“After all, a promise is a promise.”