Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Chapter 724: Chapter 724 – Taming the Fifth Year – Past Shadows – 2

The “three perverts,” as Ren referred to them in his mind now.

Not because they were actually perverted in a truly malicious sense. But because their current obsession with “romance”… had reached levels Ren found deeply uncomfortable.

“Master,” Roran began with that exaggerated reverence he used when he wanted something, “we need your wisdom.”

Ren sighed deeply… the kind of sigh that expressed weariness with the entire situation.

“I’m not your master.”

“But you are,” Trent insisted, his eyes shining with admiration Ren definitely hadn’t earned and didn’t want. “You managed to be paired with Luna Starweaver! THE Luna Starweaver! How will you proceed?”

“I didn’t manage anything, and I won’t do anything special,” Ren lied shamelessly.

“Lie,” Jun called him out, though he didn’t have mana eyes and his tone was more curious than accusatory. “We all know the odds were minimal.”

The probability of getting specifically Luna was tiny enough…

Which meant either cosmic intervention(not really) or manipulation. And these three had clearly decided on manipulation with Ren as some mastermind(funnily true).

“Tell us your secrets,” Roran practically begged, desperation making his voice crack slightly. “How will you conquer her heart? What techniques will you use? Is there some method we can apply too?”

Ren looked at them with a flat expression. “Method? Techniques? What are you talking about?”

“The art of romance!” Trent exclaimed as if it were obvious. As if romance was something you could study like mathematics or combat theory, with formulas and proven strategies that guaranteed results.

“How to capture a noble lady’s attention! Master, please, share your knowledge with us, your humble disciples.”

“You’re not my disciples,” Ren repeated, his patience visibly exhausting. “And there’s no ’art’ or ’method.’ Things just… happened.”

The three exchanged looks that clearly said “that’s exactly what a true master would say to keep his secrets.”

The logic was circular and impenetrable… Any denial became evidence of hidden wisdom. Any explanation became proof of techniques too advanced for novices to understand.

Ren wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall.

“Besides,” he added with a tone he hoped sounded final, “I haven’t ’conquered’ anything. It’s just a random dance assignment… Nothing more.”

“For now,” Roran responded with a conspiratorial wink that made Ren seriously consider using his light claws for something non-academic.

Violence wouldn’t solve this. Would probably make it worse…

But the temptation was strong.

Behind the classroom, Ren could hear Sora and Mira whispering with their new group of girl friends. Words like “romantic” and “destiny” and “finally” floated toward him, each one making him want to disappear more deeply into his seat.

Since when had his life become everyone’s entertainment?

Since when had his personal business become public spectacle for teenage speculation and romantic projections?

Jun, noticing Ren’s increasingly desperate expression, had some mercy. “It’s okay, master. We understand you can’t reveal all your secrets. The path to true romance must be walked by oneself.”

“It’s not like…” Ren began, but stopped.

There was no point.

These three had decided he was some kind of romance genius, and nothing he said would convince them otherwise. They’d constructed a narrative in their heads that was immune to facts or reason or any evidence that contradicted their predetermined conclusions.

So he just sighed again. Deeper this time.

The sound carried resignation and acceptance that this was his life now.

And it was then that he noticed her getting up in the corner of his eye.

Luna, in the back of the classroom, was moving away from her seat. Her wolf in her shadow followed as silent presence while she headed toward the door.

She didn’t look toward where Ren sat. Didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

Just withdrew, silent and alone, escaping before the inevitable questions began raining down on her too.

Before the speculation and whispers and pointed comments about what it meant to be paired with Ren Patinder for an entire evening of forced proximity.

Ren watched her leave, something tightening in his chest.

♢♢♢♢

Luna walked through empty hallways, her steps silent on the stone floor.

As always, she’d escaped before questions began. Before she had to face curious looks, whispers, speculation about what being paired with Ren meant for her.

She’d wait outside until the professor arrived to administer today’s theoretical exam and everyone sat down. Then she could slip back in, take her seat, focus on work instead of social dynamics she didn’t know how to navigate anymore.

It was easier this way.

Safer.

Less likely to result in her saying something she’d regret or revealing emotions she needed to keep buried for everyone’s protection including her own.

She found a secluded corner, a small niche in the architecture where shadows accumulated naturally. Her wolf could move better inside that space, pressing against her back while Luna leaned against the cold wall that was now soft and breathing.

She closed her eyes.

And without wanting it, without asking for it, a memory came.

She was six years old.

The Starweaver mansion garden was beautiful at this time. Flowers that only bloomed under twelve moons’ light covered every available space, their petals glowing with soft luminescence that made lamps unnecessary.

The effect was ethereal… Like walking through a painting come to life, beauty so perfect it felt unreal.

Luna was sitting on a white marble bench, her small legs swinging because they didn’t reach the ground yet. Too young to understand politics or family schemes or anything beyond the simple reality of being a child in a beautiful garden on a perfect night.

And then she saw her.

Her mother, walking along the garden path with that natural grace Luna had tried to imitate a thousand times without success. Her dark blue hair, almost black under certain lights, floated gently with the night breeze.

She was beautiful.

Not in the cold and distant way Starweaver nobles usually projected. But in a warm, alive, radiant way.

As if happiness itself emanated from every pore of her being. As if joy was something she carried naturally rather than something she had to perform for political necessity.

“My little star!” her mother exclaimed when she saw her, her face lighting up with pure joy.

The kind of joy that came from genuine love rather than duty. That transformed features into something transcendent because emotion was real rather than calculated.

She extended a hand toward Luna, inviting her.