Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

The restaurant should be nearby.

The carriage advanced along the irregular path that bordered the new territorial division. Wei could see Goldcrest patrols marching on the other side of the improvised frontier. Their black and golden uniforms gleamed in the sunlight, and their beasts prowled at their sides, a deliberate display of power meant to intimidate those crossing over.

“I hope there won’t be problems crossing, or I’ll…” he commented, more to himself than to his companions. His fingers drummed a nervous rhythm against the windowsill.

Lin, seated across from him, decided to ease his tension. “Push the guards aside? Did you work up an appetite for kicking backsides after winning the tournament again? Or is the visit making you “angry nervous”?”

“I’m not nervous,” Ren replied, though the mushrooms in his hair pulsed with a rhythm that suggested otherwise. “Just… thoughtful.”

Ren leaned toward the window, but Lin stopped him with a quick gesture, her hand shooting out to pull him back.

“Stay hidden,” she ordered, her expression suddenly serious as she assumed a protective stance. “According to what we learned from Kassian before his release, he still maintained a certain interest in you and your purifying ability.”

“Surveillance on the boy has been significantly reduced since the ‘Goldcrest and associates’ desertion from the school,” added Yang in a low voice. “The remaining Goldcrest spies are very few in the school, but here the patrol might still try to detain you if they recognize you.”

“I thought that grandmother Selphira had made it clear…” Ren began.

“Since when do you call her… Well, yes,” confirmed Lin, a slight smile touching her lips despite the seriousness of the situation. “She did severely threatened Kharzan when they handed over Kassian, Lady Selphira’s promise to directly attack the Goldcrest mansion upon any aggression should be sufficient deterrent… But seeking unnecessary trouble would be imprudent.”

Ren nodded, retreating into the shadows of the carriage interior. Through the small window, he observed how the dividing line extended in the distance, an artificial scar of rock created by earth elementals that split what was once a unified city into two parts. The barrier seemed to grow more imposing with each passing week, as if feeding on the division it created.

During the last semester, he had maintained monthly correspondence with his parents. Their letters always assured him that everything was “perfectly normal,” but something had troubled him in recent months. A subtle shift in tone, perhaps, or the increasing brevity of their messages.

He had wanted to arrive directly to surprise them, which is why he had specifically requested to be taken to pick them up from the restaurant as early as possible.

“We’re arriving, it must be that one,” announced Yang after a short time. He pointed toward a modest establishment nestled between larger buildings, its faded sign barely visible from the road.

The carriage stopped in front of a modest establishment, the restaurant where his parents had worked since Ren could remember. The outdoor tables were partially occupied, customers with tired expressions enjoying their meals in the warm afternoon sun.

“This is it,” said Ren, adjusting his Bronze 2 emblem and his honors. The polished metals caught the light, symbols of how far he had come. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Be careful,” warned Lin. Her hand briefly touched his shoulder, a rare gesture of physical reassurance from the usually brusque instructor. “We’ll wait for you here outside, don’t take too long.”

Upon entering the restaurant, Ren noticed how gazes turned toward his academy uniform and emblems. The contrast between his clearly expensive attire and the modest atmosphere of the place didn’t go unnoticed. Conversations hushed momentarily, then resumed in whispers as he made his way inside.

A middle-aged man, probably the manager, hurried toward him with a servile smile. His clothes were neat but worn, and his hands bore the calluses of someone who spent time in the kitchen when needed.

“Welcome, young sir!” he greeted with excessive enthusiasm. “Table for…?”

“Actually,” Ren responded, maintaining a polite tone despite his growing impatience, “I’m looking for Reed and Fern Patinder. Could you call them, please?”

The manager’s smile faltered, transforming into an expression of discomfort. His eyes darted away, unable to meet Ren’s gaze. “Reed and Fern? Ah, I’m very sorry, but they no longer work here.”

Ren felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. The floor seemed to sway beneath his feet, and the restaurant’s ambient noise faded into a distant buzz.

“What? Since when?”

The manager wrung his hands nervously. “For some… weeks now. The new border regulations… it was very difficult for them to get here, you understand? Many days they couldn’t pass the checkpoints, and we needed consistent staff, so…” his voice trailed off, evidently uncomfortable with his own explanation.

“I understand,” said Ren mechanically, though in reality he understood nothing besides the firing. “Do you know where they’re working now?”

“Uh… I think they would have moved to somewhere in district fifteen, on the opposite side where they live,” replied the manager, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have an exact address, I’m sorry.”

Ren nodded slowly, processing the information. His parents had lost their job weeks ago and hadn’t told him anything.

“Thank you for the information,” he murmured, turning toward the exit.

“Wait!” called the manager. “If you find them, tell them we’re sorry about how everything happened. They were excellent cooks, but the circumstances… you know, with the border and everything…”

Ren didn’t respond. Upon exiting, the sun seemed too bright, almost mocking the darkness beginning to form within him.

“What happened?” asked Lin upon seeing his expression. Her normally teasing demeanor had vanished, replaced by genuine concern.

“My parents no longer work here,” Ren replied, his voice unusually controlled. “And they never told me.”

Yang and Lin exchanged worried glances.

“Do you know where they are now?” asked Yang, his deep voice also gentler than usual.

“Maybe, with luck… they’re at home.” The words felt hollow even as he spoke them.

Lin bit her lip, thoughtful. “It’s not much, but it’s a start. We can begin there.” Her practical nature asserted itself, giving Ren something concrete to focus on.

Ren nodded, climbing back into the carriage. The interior suddenly felt stifling, too small to contain the worries expanding within him.

“Why didn’t they tell me?” he murmured more to himself than to his companions, as the carriage began moving toward home.

The mushrooms in his hair pulsed with an erratic rhythm. All the letters, all the assurances that everything was fine… Had they been lies? Had they lied to him for the first time?

As the carriage moved away from the restaurant, Ren couldn’t shake the feeling that the extraordinary good fortune he had enjoyed during the past year was about to find its counterweight.

The passage through the “border” had been relatively easy when Wei and Yang looked at the guards with serious eyes and expelling some of their mana. The energy signature of Silver 2 and 3 against Silver 1 guards resulted in nervous laughter from the guards and a much easier passage than expected…

The carriage advanced along the irregular road, approaching Ren’s home. Two hours of travel had passed.

“We should be arriving soon,” commented Yang, breaking the tense quiet.

Ren looked anxiously out the window, trying to anticipate his first glimpse of the neighborhood where his parents lived. The houses became progressively more modest and deteriorated as they advanced, a sharp contrast to the luxurious buildings of the city. The streets narrowed, and the people they passed wore the weary expressions of those for whom daily survival was a constant struggle.

It was then when he saw it: a column of black smoke rising in the distance, precisely in the direction toward which they were headed.

“There’s smoke,” said Ren, his voice tightening. “Right where the house should be.” His heart seemed to freeze in his chest, then resume beating at double speed.

Wei whipped the 3 horned horses without needing to be asked, accelerating the carriage’s pace. Ren clung to the window frame.

“It might not be your house,” said Lin, trying to reassure him.

But Ren…

♢♢♢♢

A few hours earlier…

Reed and Fern opened the door to find three uniformed men from the patrols. The leader, a tall individual with silver tiger markings beneath his skin that betrayed his Silver 1 rank, evaluated them with a contemptuous look.