Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Wei wanted to continue interrogating him to find some way to reduce or avoid the risk, but the resolution on Ren’s face was immovable.

Reed observed his son, the turtle mirroring his thoughtful posture.

How much had Ren really changed in this year?

Or had he always possessed this hardness, just waiting for circumstances to manifest it?

Fern still struggled to process everything that had occurred in the last few hours. The loss of their home, the attack, the transformation into double tamers… and now her son, barely emerged from childhood, was planning to venture into the deadly outer forest.

“Are you sure you must do this?” she asked, her voice betraying her fear. “We’ve already lost so much today…”

Ren took his mother’s hands between his own. His touch was gentle but firm, the contrast between his child-sized hands and his adult-like resolve making the moment more poignant.

“But I made sure you won much more, right? Trust me. I’m not the same frightened kid who ran away a year ago. Now it’s not a desperate decision, now I have the power to protect myself.”

Fern searched her son’s eyes for some trace of the child she remembered, but what she found was a determination that went beyond his years.

“You’ve become so strong,” she murmured, both pride and sadness in her voice. “So different…” Her thumb traced small circles on his hand, a maternal gesture that felt both familiar and somehow out of place now.

“I’m still me,” Ren responded with a smile that finally showed something of his former innocence, the expression momentarily transforming him back into the boy they remembered. “I just… know a bit more.”

Reed observed the exchange in silence, his mind processing an unsettling reality: his son no longer needed his protection. On the contrary, now Ren was the one protecting them.

The role reversal was as natural as it was painful, a necessary evolution that nonetheless carried the sting of obsolescence.

While Ren returned to the work of digging, Reed and Fern exchanged looks.

Their lives had changed irrevocably, but what most disconcerted them was how easily they accepted all this. Was it an effect of the gifts? Or simply the natural consequence of seeing their son transformed into someone so strong and mature?

No, it wasn’t the gifts. It was the understanding that their world had changed, and they must change with it or be left behind.

“We must be strong for him,” Fern whispered to her husband. “He has done all this for us.” Her eyes reflected determination to rise to this new challenge.

Reed nodded, his hand finding hers, their fingers interlacing as they had countless times through decades of shared struggle. “We can no longer protect him as before. But we can support him.”

The hole was almost finished when a sound… Footsteps. Many footsteps, approaching Chen’s house. The distant rhythm carried the unmistakable cadence of military discipline.

“More patrols,” Yang whispered, his enhanced perception of vibrations in the earth catching what the others were just beginning to notice. “And more than before.”

Wei cautiously peered through a small crack in the wall. “At least a dozen. And they seem more… methodical this time.”

“The hole,” Ren indicated with urgency, his voice dropping to a tense whisper. “Everyone inside. Now.”

There was no time to argue. Reed and Fern were the first to descend, gently pushed by Ren, followed by Wei and Lin. Ren and Yang lowered the unconscious bodies of the patrollers, then joined the group.

The earth closed over them, leaving no outline to mark where the opening had been.

♢♢♢♢

The patrol’s footsteps resonated through Chen’s house, the measured tread creating a rhythm of impending danger. The commander, a burly man with Troll Leopard spots glowing on his skin, stared fixedly at the old man.

“I know you’re hiding something, old man,” he growled, moving closer until Chen could smell his breath, a mix of stale tobacco and the fresh blood on his nose. “Nobody in this area lives completely disconnected from what happens.” His eyes narrowed.

Chen maintained his neutral expression, his hands patiently crossed in front of him. “We’re just a simple family, commander. We don’t get involved in trouble.” His voice carried just the right note of deference.

“The attack happened less than two kilometers from here,” the commander insisted. “Three of my best men. One dead, two missing.”

He paused, evaluating the old man’s reaction, searching for any tell-tale sign of deception. Then, his tone changed to something almost friendly, the shift more menacing for its artificiality.

“You know, the Goldcrest government is generous with those who collaborate,” he continued, pulling out a small bag that clinked promisingly. He let it dangle between them, the sound of crystals hitting one another creating a seductive melody. “Ten thousand crystals for information. One hundred thousand if you help capture those responsible.”

Chen looked at the bag, which would give him the equivalent of a few years’ subsistence for a family in the outskirts. His eyes showed a flash of consideration, just for an instant… a calculated display to maintain credibility.

“I’m sorry, commander,” he finally replied, his voice carrying appropriate regret. “I cannot help find what I haven’t seen.”

The commander snorted with irritation. “Search the entire property,” he ordered his men, his frustration evident in the sharp gesture that accompanied the command. “Every corner.”

While the patrollers ransacked the house, Tao and Li observed from a side hallway. At eleven years old, Chen’s grandsons had developed a sense of when to stay out of adults’ way, especially authorities.

“Do you think they’re looking for Ren?” Tao whispered, remembering seeing his friend before the adults had sent them to bed.

“Maybe,” Li responded, his eyes wide as he watched the patrollers upend furniture and tear through cabinets. “I heard he’s important in the city now. Studies at that school for rich people.”

There was a note of wonder in their voice, still trying to reconcile this new image with the Ren they had once played with.

“Search the storehouse too,” the commander ordered, pointing toward the back structure.

The children exchanged looks. The storehouse was their favorite play area. They knew every corner, every possible hiding place, every loose board and creaky beam. If anyone was hidden there…

The patrol methodically ransacked the storehouse, throwing sacks and moving piles of firewood. Dust motes danced in the slanting afternoon light as they worked, occasionally punctuated by the crack of wood being broken or the thud of heavy objects being overturned.

Finally, the commander seemed convinced that there was nothing suspicious. His frustration was evident in the tightness around his eyes and the way his leopard spots had dimmed to a sullen glow.

“Stay alert,” he warned Chen before departing, his finger jabbing the air between them for emphasis. “And remember, the offer remains open. Those crystals could help a family like yours a great deal.” The threat beneath the offer was thinly veiled, the implication clear.

When the patrol finally moved away, the children waited several minutes before sneaking toward the storehouse. Curiosity burned too intensely to be ignored, their young minds filled with questions about their old playmate and the mysterious events unfolding around them.

“Do you think he’s really still hidden here?” Li asked, pushing open the storehouse door with exaggerated caution. The hinges creaked softly, the sound unnaturally loud in the tense silence.

“I don’t know, they searched for a good while,” Tao responded, his eyes scanning the interior for any sign of disturbance beyond the patrol’s destruction.

The inside was a mess, with torn grain sacks and piles of firewood scattered everywhere. The children advanced cautiously, inspecting each corner.

“There’s nobody here,” Li declared after a superficial search, disappointment evident in his slumped shoulders. “I told you he wouldn’t be here, they must have left before.”

“But I saw grandfather bring them, and they didn’t want to be seen outside,” Tao insisted, pushing aside a larger pile of straw. “They have to be somewhere.”

They continued exploring, moving debris and checking behind the larger piles. Li walked directly over the center of the storehouse when he felt something grasp his ankle.

The boy froze, color draining from his face. His mouth opened to scream, but before he could make any sound, the floor beneath him opened and swallowed him. A hand emerged to cover his mouth, stifling any potential outcry.