Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Ren’s bombs arrived through a supply chain designed for emergencies.

Tamers with large beasts of good comfortable cargo capacity were the ones who transported them, creatures whose broad backs could carry the cargo without compromising flight maneuverability.

Detailed explanation had been given to the designated “bombers” about the weapons’ nature. They were dangerous and fragile, requiring careful handling since they could also significantly hurt or even kill non-abyssal tamers if broken prematurely.

Once in Victor’s flying squadron’s hands, they first distributed them to the most agile flyers, one bomb per soldier for initial testing. The selected creatures were beasts with speed necessary for rapid delivery and immediate escape if something went wrong.

Victor, now more accustomed to the constant rhythm of enemy attack and defense after hours of sustained combat, studied the battlefield from his elevated aerial position.

The “bowl” formation continued holding solid and they had more than sufficient forces to rotate attacks and maintain themselves at almost 100% output for now. Yano forces had managed to establish effective defensive positions that canceled any Yino progress.

It was the perfect moment to test whether the weapons his ‘impertinent’ little sister and that weird kid had sent would work as promised.

“Storm Hawk Three!” he shouted. “Test approach! Target: enemy front line, central sector!”

“Understood, Commander!”

Victor watched as the hawk descended in a dive, its rider keeping the bomb stabilized against wind turbulence that could have activated it prematurely.

The launch itself wasn’t particularly surprising.

There was no dramatic explosion, no flash of light or devastating sound. Simply, upon impacting against front line soldiers, the ‘bomb’ broke and released what appeared to be golden, glittering dust.

“A dud?” murmured one of the soldiers observing from an elevated position.

But Victor kept his attention fixed on the impact area. Something about the way the dust expanded wasn’t normal, and to begin with, nothing surrounding that boy was ever normal.

Soon he realized it was definitely the case again.

The dust cloud expanded across the battlefield. And enemy soldiers within the cloud began behaving strangely.

Victor observed there was no significant physical damage, no blood, no screams of agony, no immediate collapse. But there was constant and growing discomfort for all those affected.

Soldiers began scratching, shaking themselves as if something were crawling over their skin. Some removed parts of their armor, desperately trying to relieve an irritation that seemed to be everywhere.

The cloud was slow to dissipate, seeming to actively react with many of the soldiers and expanding considerably.

But that wasn’t all.

After several minutes, approximately twenty percent of affected soldiers began suffering more severe effects. They writhed with genuine pain, their movements becoming erratic.

Victor quickly realized the pattern: the most affected soldiers seemed to be those without abyssal corruption. Those with corrupt beasts or who had undergone abyssal transformation showed a stronger initial reaction but greater resistance, while regular soldiers were serving as breeding ground for infection.

‘Non-abyssals are more susceptible,’ he realized with growing understanding. ‘The infection expands in them specifically.’

It was exactly what Ren had warned about, a weapon that was dangerous for those launching it too, targeting abyssal energy but functioning more severely against those who hadn’t been corrupted.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. A weapon designed to combat corruption was most effective against the uncorrupted, turning the very purity of regular soldiers into a liability.

“Sector commanders!” Victor immediately ordered all his commanders. “The enemy is distracted! Prepare to intensify pressure on compromised defenders!”

The response was immediate and enthusiastic. Squadrons that had been engaged in holding now received authorization for more aggressive attacks.

“All units, maintain constant pressure! Don’t give them time to recover!”

Victor could see immediate results. Bridge defenders, many of whom were still suffering from spore effects, couldn’t preserve their previous level of coordination.

Gaps appeared in their formations, communication broke down, and their response time became noticeably slower. What had been a disciplined defensive force was rapidly degrading into scattered, panicked groups trying to deal with an invisible enemy that attacked from within.

It was exactly the opening Victor had been seeking during hours of sustained combat.

“General bomb distribution!” he ordered. “Each squadron takes three units! Target enemy concentrations whenever the effect diminishes! We get them back into the bridge!”

As additional bombs began falling over uncontaminated Yino positions, Victor felt the tide of battle beginning to shift decisively in Yano’s favor.

Ren’s creations were providing exactly the type of advantage that could break the stalemate and allow a real push toward ‘ground setting’ victory.

Across the battlefield, the air filled with growing clouds of golden spores, each expanding to affect more enemy soldiers.

It was a demonstration of the power of innovation over brute force.

And while Victor pressed his advantage, he could only imagine how Ren and the others would react when they learned their improvised weapons had worked.

♢♢♢♢

Leonel remained at Goldcrest castle, observing the four Selphira guards who had stayed to protect the conquered territory alongside him.

‘She’s always this exaggerated,’ he thought with some exasperation but also affection toward his adoptive mother. ‘Leaving everyone behind for me… wouldn’t it have been convenient to at least take one or two?’

Why did he need four high-level Gold 2 guards to watch over these third-rate tamers?

Kharzan had taken everything that could even defend against one of these guards, his best troops, his most powerful tamers, everything committed to the war now raging on multiple fronts.

‘But she’s always like this,’ Leonel reflected while looking at the partially destroyed castle.

First, Selphira had sent all troops from her territory directly to the bridge without leaving significant reserves. Sure, it was the central section, the closest territory that could send support the fastest after the Dravenholms, which corresponded to the main castle, central city, and wall in terms of command, but…

Was it really necessary to use practically all resources and leave nothing defending home? What about the Starweavers?

‘Goldcrest… guess they’re worse indeed, but still…’

Leonel looked toward the ice prison where Kassian and his relatives waited in forced silence. He wondered if his own castle could end up in a similar situation if things at the bridge went badly or took too long.

‘Nah,’ he reassured himself mentally. ‘My family’s elders are obnoxious, but they’re not weak.’

And they hadn’t moved from their defensive positions, maintaining control over familiar territory. With some doubles among the older generations, they should be quite safe. Plus their base guards, who had been trained specifically for territorial defense.

‘Although looking at it this way,’ he considered a more problematic possibility, ‘Mother must have told them to support the bridge effort, and they didn’t do it to save their own skins.’

The idea bothered him more than he had expected. ‘Damned vermin… When I’m the family leader, I’ll put them all in order.’

While Leonel rambled about family politics and military strategy, one of his guards suddenly looked up, alerted by something the others hadn’t yet detected.

Leonel raised an eyebrow, initially thinking that if any of the remaining prisoners dared challenge them, they were completely insane. The power difference was so vast that any resistance would be suicide.

But then he felt the power signature approaching.

It wasn’t from the prisoners or the natives of this side.

Ten tamers, all Gold rank, and one of them a quite powerful double. The energy signature was unmistakable… professional military forces, not civilian resistance.

‘What the hell…?’

Leonel finally distinguished the points in the air heading straight toward his position. Flying mounts, moving with purpose and speed that suggested urgent military mission.

And then he heard laughter.

In the corner of the ice prison, Kassian was laughing, not the hysterical laughter of someone who had lost his mind, but the satisfied laughter of someone who had been waiting for exactly this moment.

“Time for payback,” Kassian murmured, his voice carrying clearly through the crystal chamber.