My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

”Kill him!” the squad captain screamed, his voice cracking under the oppressive weight of the violet atmosphere. ”He’s just one man! Secure the artifact and the Duke will reward us with noble titles!”

A wave of fifty heavy shock-troops surged forward simultaneously, their halberds, broadswords, and iron maces converging on the center of the crater. The air hissed with the collective friction of their blades.

Vince didn’t even pull his hands out of his pockets.

Moving at his newly forged Tier 3 Intermediate Agility, the world around him seemed to slow to a sluggish, muddy crawl. To the terrified onlookers, Vince became a fluid, amethyst-tinted blur. He elegantly tilted his torso a mere fraction of an inch to the left, letting a heavy halberd graze past his dark robes. With a casual, seamless spin, his hand shot out of his pocket like a striking viper.

BOOM!

A single, straight punch connected with the lead infantryman’s breastplate. The enchanted steel collapsed inward with a deafening screech of metal. The soldier was instantly launched backward through the air, his body tearing through three ranks of his own allies before slamming violently into the iron academy gates a hundred yards away, leaving a massive dent in the structure.

”What—” another soldier gasped, lunging from behind with a low, sweeping strike aimed at Vince’s tendons.

Vince didn’t even turn around. He simply took a casual bow, letting the blade whistle harmlessly over his back. As he straightened up, he drove a brutal, localized hook directly into the attacker’s exposed gut, immediately following it with a snapping uppercut that shattered the man’s helmet and sent him spinning into the air.

He didn’t break a sweat. He didn’t use a single drop of traditional mana. He was dismantling the elite vanguard of a ducal army using nothing but flawless, disrespectful close-quarters dominance.

High above the high walls, Elena watched the display, her hand pressing against her chest armor as her heart hammered with an intoxicating mix of awe and absolute pride. Below her, the huddled students of Royal Oakhaven Academy stood completely speechless, their jaws dropped as they watched the notorious ”no-talent” floor hardened mercenaries like they were disruptive children.

From the safe overlook at the rear, Commander Moira’s jaw clenched so hard her veins bulged along her neck. The jagged scar across her blind left eye flared a dangerous, angry red.

”The lot of you can sit back and wait all you want,” Moira spat, her grip tightening on the hilt of her massive, dual-handed broadsword until the leather wrap groaned. ”But I am going to put that arrogant brat in his place.”

”Moira, wait for the auxiliary mages to—” Balthazar began, but it was already too late.

The ground beneath Moira’s steel greaves violently cracked open as she channeled her peak A-rank physical aura. With an explosive leap, she shot into the air like a crimson meteor, completely bypassing the bottlenecked paths.

”Hmph. This should be over quick,” Balthazar rumbled, crossing his arms again as he watched her trajectory.

Down in the courtyard, Vince was mid-stride, casually preparing to counter another wave of grunts, when his newly upgraded Tier 3 Perception violently flared. A heavy, oppressive martial presence was descending directly toward him from above. His purple eyes shifted toward the sky.

CRASH!

Moira landed cleanly just five paces away from him. The sheer kinetic shockwave of her impact was so violent that it sent dozens of the surrounding Iron Viper troops flying across the pavement, scattering their formations like autumn leaves.

When the dust violently cleared, the chaotic courtyard had transformed into a dead-silent stare down.

There was no dialogue. No warnings.

Moira’s single visible eye burned with a ruthless, predatory focus. In a fraction of a millisecond, her broadsword was raised, the metal screaming as she crossed the distance in a single, ungodly stride.

”Divine Strike!”

The blade cut through the air with a blinding, golden arc, aimed directly at Vince’s neck.

Vince’s instincts screamed. For the first time since his upgrades, he couldn’t casually step aside. He threw his entire body backward, his spine bending at an impossible angle as the edge of the broadsword whistled past his face.

Snip.

A few loose strands of black hair drifted through the air, severed cleanly by the sheer, pressurized wind of the blade.

Vince flipped backward, landing properly on his feet as he slid a few inches across the shattered tiles. What the... he thought, his eyes narrowing as he felt the faint sting of cold air against his skin. Even under the 20% restriction of his domain, her raw execution speed was fast enough to clip his reflexes.

”Judging by that attack, I take it you’re not here to negotiate,” Vince said, smoothing down his robes as his eyes shone with a dangerous, deeply amused purple light. ”And here I was, hoping to impress a pretty lady like you with my skills.”

Moira raised her heavy broadsword again, her stance completely flawless as her aura flared to life. ”Cut the crap, insolent brat. Your little parlor tricks end here.”

High above, from the arched window of the VIP guest quarters, Cynthia Sterling leaned closer to the glass, a brilliant, genuine smile breaking across her elegant features.

”This,” Cynthia murmured, her amber eyes reflecting the violent golden and violet sparks illuminating the courtyard below, ”just got interesting.”