Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Chapter 464: Chapter 464 - Tamers War - Victory’s Illusion

Ignatius was with one of the bombardment squadrons that had done exemplary work during the conflict’s early stages.

Their power was impressive: basically 60% of all Yano’s Gold-rank fire and wind tamers were distributed among these specialized squadrons.

Although there were fewer than 100 Gold ranks, and most of the more than 5,000 bombardment squadron participants (in this defense war) were Silver 3, the coordination with them had been masterful.

Ignatius had the honor of personally knowing the vast majority of the strongest, having seen at least a third during their years at the academy. Many of them were names that would appear in history books, masters whose techniques were studied in advanced courses, and perhaps, without knowing it, today they had contributed new details that Ignatius would add to the curricula.

His academy had to maintain itself above the schools of the dusty hag and the wet jester...

The bridge bombardment had been constant and had perfectly stopped the enemy advance until Venmont’s false dragon’s unfortunate appearance.

Everything had changed there.

Many front-line soldiers had been eliminated in minutes, forcing everyone to retreat in what quickly became a chaotic withdrawal.

After losing organization due to terror inspired by Venmont’s deadly storms and poison attacks, Maximilian’s consequent lashing with his aerial troops had mercilessly devastated retreating forces.

The casualties had been devastating.

But when the situation had dramatically reversed and history’s most powerful king had destroyed the bridge in a single epic movement, Maximilian and his troops had fled at a speed that only their maximum cowardice could provide.

The 3,000 Yino soldiers who were now trapped on this side of the abyss, without a bridge to return, raised their hands in surrender before the gaze of Yano’s army reorganizing after the disastrous and disorderly retreat.

The difficult thing for everyone was containing the thirst for immediate revenge.

Fury over those fallen in Venmont’s attack and Maximilian’s humiliating pursuit boiled in every surviving soldier. The poor trapped Silver-rank bastards, ex Yino frontline, knew perfectly they had no chance now that they couldn’t escape back, and the rage of those returning after the dishonorable retreat was about to explode in uncontrolled violence.

Soldiers who had watched friends die, who had been forced to flee in terror, now faced the opportunity for payback against almost helpless enemies.

So it exploded.

The first attacks began from the rear: fire spears, wind projectiles, techniques seeking immediate revenge.

But what seemed would end in a massacre was stopped by the King himself.

Dragarion descended from the sky like a brilliant and just judge, positioning himself directly over the trapped soldiers. With movements that seemed casual, he deflected all vengeful attacks toward the abyss, where they dispersed harmlessly in darkness.

The vengeful force that had begun launching stopped instantly.

Everyone fell into absolute silence, awe filling their hearts seeing the powerful sovereign in direct action.

The 3,000 prisoners looked into the distance, to the other side of the destroyed bridge, where Yino troops retreated and disappeared in the distance like fleeing from a natural disaster.

They didn’t want to look at the powerful sovereign who was about to decide their fate, but they no longer had any other option. Watching their allies disappear made them clearly understand their destiny.

For the moment, battle had completely stopped and they had been left alone, abandoned by their own allied forces... the forces for whom they had risked their lives, trying to open a way to let them cross the bridge.

Was it worth it? They asked themselves.

It began with a single soldier.

Perhaps he was frustrated by betrayal, too frightened, or too impressed to remember which kingdom he nominally served. He knelt on rocky ground, then lowered his head until touching earth in complete submission.

Little by little, like a silent wave, all soldiers did the same.

It was an image that would be engraved in every witness’s memory: 3,000 Silver warriors, paying homage to power that transcended political loyalties.

Dragarion was there, floating over a small army asking mercy before what was basically an unstoppable natural force for them. The power difference was so absolute that resisting would have been like a toothless baby trying to bite an adult to death.

Yano’s King’s mana density was 2 levels above them. They had no way to harm him.

Different levels of existence.

The King observed them in silence for a moment, evaluating the situation.

”They’ll take you to temporary enclosure in the mines,” he finally declared, his voice amplified to reach all present soldiers.

But then his tone changed, charging with mana that made their ears vibrate with the demonstration of absolute authority. He carefully hid his real fatigue, the aura he projected admitted no disobedience.

”At the first act of defiance,” he continued, each word resonating like the final sentence, ”I eliminate you.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a declaration of just and logical reality.

The 3,000 prisoners remained prostrate, perfectly understanding their survival depended entirely on mercy from someone who could erase them from existence with a casual movement.

Ignatius observed everything from his position with the bombardiers, processing that he had just witnessed not only a battle’s end, but a historic event and the clearest possible demonstration of why Dragarion was considered a living legend.

The war had stopped not because resources had been exhausted or because diplomacy had triumphed.

It had ended because one person had decided it was enough.

And everyone present, enemies and allies alike, had to accept that reality without question.

♢♢♢♢

Arturo met with Dragarion while he let the army take prisoners toward the mines, then headed toward the castle with tired bodies that tried to seem casual.

Arturo’s feelings were completely conflicted.

On one hand, he felt overwhelming relief that his father had arrived to save them just when everything seemed lost. Without his intervention, the kingdom would have fallen and everyone would have died... or worse.

On the other hand, he was deeply annoyed because it had taken YEARS for him to return from his mysterious mission. Had he not left, things surely wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. The problems with Yino, escalating tensions, the war itself... everything could have been avoided with his presence.

The frustration was legitimate and deep... years of managing crises that could have been prevented, of making decisions that should have been his father’s responsibility, of carrying weight that wasn’t meant for his shoulders yet.

Arturo was about to reproach him for exactly that when he looked more carefully at his father’s posture and expression.

Dragarion was tired to a level that bordered on collapse.

He hid it extraordinarily well, maintaining that casual and controlled facade he always projected, but Arturo wasn’t just any Silver warrior. He was a high double Gold with experience.

The signs were subtle but unmistakable to someone who understood the cost of wielding power at such scales, micro-tremors in hands that should have been steady, breath patterns that would show exhaustion if not masked with discipline.

”I’ll take you to rest at the castle,” Arturo declared, immediately forgetting his reproaches upon recognizing the man had likely worked himself to death.

”Things aren’t completely controlled,” Dragarion responded, shaking his head. ”I can’t sleep yet. I must maintain my elevated mana signature or the powers waiting in Yino’s center and our Yano’s depths might realize and come for us.”

Arturo tried to understand, concern evident in his expression.

”There are two signatures with power very similar to Venmont’s,” Dragarion explained, his eyes directing toward the horizon where Yino continued existing. ”One even slightly superior... If I have to fight them in this state... I’ll die, I don’t have enough energy.”