Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

The silence that followed Kharzan’s departure was as heavy as the threat he had left behind.

Julius was the first to break it, placing a hand over his face with evident concern.

“We could hand Kassian over to him and keep Klein,” he suggested, his voice betraying his exhaustion. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would avoid an immediate conflict…”

“Giving them the guilty party would be too obvious a defeat,” responded Sirius, his tone cold as ice. “It would make the situation worse more quickly. We would be showing weakness, and Yino never respects weakness.”

“Besides,” added Arturo, “if Kassian has truly been experimenting with abyssal corruption, releasing him now would be giving them precisely what they need to accelerate whatever they’re planning.”

Selphira, who had remained silent since Kharzan’s departure, sighed deeply.

“I will speak with Kassian,” she finally decided. “Perhaps there is something more we can discover before making a final decision.”

The three men nodded, recognizing the wisdom of this approach. If anyone could extract useful information from the Goldcrest heir, it was Selphira Ashenway.

As they exited the tent, Selphira looked toward the sky, where the sun had begun its descent toward the horizon.

The countdown had begun.

♢♢♢♢

With the temporary withdrawal of the Goldcrests and their men…

Classes had resumed at the academy, but the atmosphere was far from normal. Although most students didn’t know the exact details of what was happening with the Goldcrests, the tension could be felt in every corner.

The usual laughter and casual conversations in the corridors had been replaced by hushed whispers and wary glances.

The professors, aware of the gravity of the situation, involuntarily transmitted their concern through furtive looks and conversations that abruptly ended when a student approached too closely.

For Ren, who knew the truth thanks to Han, the situation felt even more oppressive. Not only did he have to deal with the weight of knowing that his ring… or more precisely, the ring absorbed by his fungus, was one of the central factors in the crisis, but now he had a constant feeling of being under surveillance worse than usual.

In Wei’s class, Luna and Han couldn’t stop observing him with an intensity far superior to the usual.

Since the incident the previous night, they hadn’t had a chance to talk. Lin had escorted them directly to their respective rooms and, as additional punishment, had given them exercises upon exercises. The physical strain had been deliberate, too exhausted to scheme, they had collapsed into sleep instead of planning further mischief…

On the other side of the classroom, Larissa and Liora were leaning over their desks, whispering among themselves and Luna while occasionally casting glances in his direction. Luna had apparently already told them enough to awaken their curiosity.

Wei massaged his temples, making an evident effort to ignore the high nobles’ whispers. Han, on the other hand, received a severe warning look when he tried to turn toward Ren for the tenth consecutive time.

“Do you think this will get out of control?” murmured Taro, taking advantage of a moment when Wei was distracted with another student. For the umpteenth time…

Ren sighed, his mushrooms pulsing with an irregular rhythm that reflected his unease.

“I don’t know,” he responded honestly, keeping his voice low. “I’ve told you many times already… I really don’t know.”

He tried to concentrate on the paper before him. He was working on a cultivation book for Sora’s deer, one of multiple projects that would generate steady income for him gradually as results came in. He had already advanced to the silver-level methods, but the writing refused to flow today. His mind constantly jumped between concerns.

The anomalous behavior of his fungus last night. The imminent conversation with Selphira. His parents returning the money he had sent them. The threat of war looming over everyone. And, of course, the avalanche of questions he would have to face if Luna, Han and the others cornered him.

Finally, Ren surrendered. The mushrooms in his hair drooped slightly in defeat.

It was useless to pretend that he could concentrate on writing a well-organized and detailed cultivation method for silver level under these circumstances.

He rose discreetly and approached Wei’s desk, his steps measured to avoid drawing attention.

“Professor,” he murmured, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Wei looked at him, his expression skeptical but not hostile.

“And I suppose that ‘bathroom’ is quite far away,” he commented, pointing to the half-completed scroll that Ren was handing him.

“Could you let me rest for today?” asked Ren, not bothering to maintain the pretense. “I can’t concentrate properly.”

Wei took the scroll, examining it briefly before storing it in one of the drawers of his desk. His eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed Ren’s condition.

“We both know this class doesn’t contribute much to you,” he conceded, his voice low enough that only Ren could hear him. “But take care of that brain of yours, Patinder. If all your methods are correct… You have an invaluable treasure for our city on your shoulders.”

Ren nodded, grateful for the professor’s understanding, and headed for the exit before anyone could try to go to the “bathroom” too in order to intercept him.

Once in the hallway, he put his hands in his pockets, feeling the familiar crinkle of paper and remembering. He took out the envelope and examined it: it was the monthly report of his earnings, still sealed, along with the Pegasus deposit receipts he hadn’t had time to deliver.

The bank. Perfect. A place where he could be busy for a while, though he couldn’t help feeling the melancholy.

He didn’t know how much he had received nor did he care too much. Since his parents rejected the support, his interest in the crystals had diminished considerably. The financial success that had once seemed so crucial now felt strangely hollow.

Perhaps when the time came to rise to silver, he would care again, but for now, it felt empty.

Still, it was best to save whatever he had to avoid more problems than he already had. His practical nature reasserted itself, urging him to maintain his important resources for cultivation regardless of his current emotional detachment from them.

“I have to do it anyway,” murmured Ren. “Although… Finch.”

The mere idea of facing the banker’s dramatic theater felt exhausting in his current state.

‘Maybe I can use the other window,’ he thought.

Upon arriving, he discovered that his idea hadn’t been so original. The alternative window was crowded with sixth-year students, all apparently free today, submitting papers and performing similar procedures.

With a sigh of resignation, Ren turned around and headed toward the other bank office. At least Theodore, with his silent efficiency, would partially compensate for the inevitable spectacle that Finch would mount upon seeing him.

‘Just go in, ignore Finch, hand in the papers, and leave,’ he told himself as he approached the door. ‘Simple and quick. And then… then I’ll think about what to do with everything else.’

His mushrooms pulsed with renewed determination as he opened the door, mentally preparing himself for the tsunami of exuberance that was Finch on a normal day.