Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Ren and his friends headed toward the preparation area, where medical auxiliaries were already organizing students selected for the advanced individual battles.

An assistant in a green uniform handed them small pills after checking that they had no injuries and their mana veins weren’t too strained. “To restore your mana and stamina to optimal levels,” he explained mechanically, as if he had repeated the same phrase dozens of times in the last few minutes.

As Ren took his pill, he felt a presence beside him. Ron Blackfire was watching him with an expression that mixed curiosity and poorly disguised disdain.

“Patinder,” he greeted with a brief nod. “Almost six months have passed since your misfortune at the ceremony, eh?”

Ren returned the gesture, studying the changes in his opponent. Ron was no longer the same child from the temple; he had become slightly more muscular, and the crimson scales only on the outer part of his arms indicated increasing control over his salamander.

“Blackfire,” he responded simply.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them while the auxiliaries continued preparing the arena for individual combats. Finally, Ron seemed unable to contain what he really wanted to say.

“It’s a real shame, you know?” he began, his voice mixing genuine condescension with a touch of envy. “When I heard you were a double tamer, I thought: ‘well, the mushroom boy finally had some luck.’” He crossed his arms, the scales briefly gleaming. “But ending up with a hydra as a second beast… It’s almost as unfortunate as your first beast.”

Ren maintained his neutral expression, while Min and Taro suppressed their laughter.

“It should have been someone like me who found that potion,” continued Ron, now with more confidence as he interpreted Ren’s silence as resignation. “Imagine the synergy: my salamander and a phoenix, for example. Two powerful fire beasts complementing each other perfectly. It’s normal for a double to receive a beast with real gold potential…”

“Your concept of synergies is inefficient,” Ren finally responded, his voice calm but firm. “Fire with fire hardly has synergistic potential. Only earth has real retroactive capacity between similar elements.”

Ron blinked, momentarily disconcerted by the technical response. “Excuse me?”

“But you’re right about one thing,” Ren continued, ignoring his opponent’s confusion. “The potion would certainly be wasted on me considering my first beast…”

This concession seemed to satisfy Ron, who regained his confident smile. “At least you recognize it,” he said, turning to head to his preparation area. “See you in the arena, Patinder.”

When Ron was far enough away, Taro approached Ren with an expression of disbelief.

“Why did you agree with him? You didn’t take the potion but…”

“I simply said something that’s technically true. The potion would be wasted on me because I don’t need it,” he reminded him quietly.

Min and Taro exchanged glances and sighed before smiling too.

“You’re twisted, you know that? Seems like Larissa’s rubbing off on you,” laughed Min, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

“Individual combatants of the first group, to the arena!” announced an auxiliary, interrupting their conversation.

Ren headed toward the arena entrance. His friends briefly stopped him again to give him encouraging pats.

“Remember,” said Taro seriously, “don’t underestimate your strength.”

“And don’t overdo it with your light magic,” added Min. “Don’t kill our school’s students with your claws like you did with that poor dummy.”

Ren rolled his eyes but then nodded, silently appreciating how they were trying to reduce his concern before continuing on his way.

The arena was repaired and ready.

From the stands, hundreds of eyes watched with interest. Individual battles had a special appeal; they were pure, without the tactical complexity of team confrontations, but with all the combat intensity concentrated on just two participants.

Ren entered with a confident step from one side of the arena.

Ron entered from the opposite side, his scales now completely visible, covering his arms from shoulders to fingertips. Small flames danced between his palms each time he closed his fists, an impressive display of control for a first-year student.

Lin positioned herself between them.

“First round of individual combats,” she announced. “Ron Blackfire versus Ren Patinder. The rules remain the same: victory by surrender, incapacitation, or leaving the marked area.”

She looked at each competitor, briefly evaluating them before continuing: “Are you ready?”

Both nodded.

“Begin.”

Ron wasted no time and extended both arms forward. A sphere of fire, the size of a melon, emerged from his palms and traveled through the air directly toward Ren.

For any other student, dodging a projectile at that speed would have been a considerable challenge. For Ren, it was as if time slowed down.

The mushrooms in his hair pulsed while his reflexes, enhanced by the hydra and the ring, captured every detail: the slightly curved trajectory of the sphere, the hotter core at its center, even the small particles of smoke it left in its wake.

With a simple sidestep, he dodged the attack without even messing up his hair.

“Don’t mock me!” growled Ron, visibly irritated by the ease with which his opponent had evaded the blow. His scales glowed with greater intensity, and this time he launched three fireballs in rapid succession.

Ren moved with a fluidity that captured the attention of the entire arena. These weren’t the exaggerated movements of someone fighting for his life, but the economical precision of someone who knows exactly how much effort each evasion requires. A turn here, a tilt there, even a slight bend of the knees to let a sphere pass over his head, without even affecting the luminescent mushrooms.

“He’s playing with him,” murmured a third-year student loudly enough for several to hear.

“Or calculating his capabilities,” corrected another, more astute.

Lin observed with pride. Her pupil was demonstrating precisely what she had taught him about economy of movement, but perhaps too obviously and mockingly. Although he was a child, she would have to correct him later…

Ron, frustrated by his inability to connect a single blow, changed strategy. He firmly planted his feet on the ground, brought both hands together in front of his chest, and with a shout that resonated throughout the stadium, released a continuous torrent of flames.

The fire roared like a living beast, extending in a wide cone that seemed impossible to dodge in the limited space of the combat circle.

“Now let’s see how you dance, Patinder!” exclaimed Ron, a fierce smile forming on his face as he maintained the scorching stream.

To the surprise of many, Ren didn’t try to dodge. Instead, his eyes flashed with a gleam as he studied the mana pattern in the flames. Thanks to his enhanced perception, he could see the fluctuations in the fire’s intensity, the points where the energy was weakest, the slight tremor in Ron’s hands that revealed the effort it cost him to maintain the wide attack.

With a movement that seemed almost casual, Ren took a step forward… directly toward the flames.