My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

The stench of ozone and scorched sap in the central clearing was quickly drowned out by a wave of suffocating, jet-black mana.

It rolled through the forest like a living thing.

Branches trembled.

Loose leaves lifted from the ground and spun through the air before being swallowed by the darkness. The remaining birds that had somehow survived the earlier chaos fled from the surrounding trees, their cries quickly disappearing beneath the oppressive pressure.

Vesper stood amidst the wreckage of the forest path.

His clothes were torn.

His body was battered.

His breathing came in ragged, wet gasps.

Yet none of that mattered.

His eyes were entirely black.

There was no fear left in them. No hesitation. No reason.

Only madness.

On his forearm, the dark ink of his bat tattoo had charred into a lifeless, ash-gray scar—a permanent testament to the annihilation of his squad.

Brian.

Gideon.

Sara.

All dead.

Vesper’s fingers curled slowly into fists.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the bodies.

Then his head rose.

His gaze locked onto Vince.

Something inside him snapped.

”Vince...”

His voice was barely human, a hollow, scraping sound that seemed to crawl out from somewhere deep within his chest.

”Vince...”

The name came again, quieter this time.

More dangerous.

Then Vesper’s lips pulled into a broken smile.

”I’ll tear your soul from your chest!”

The moment the words left his mouth, the world around him seemed to dim.

He didn’t seek cover.

He didn’t gauge the distance.

He didn’t consider whether his body could withstand what he was about to unleash.

Vesper burned every remaining drop of his life-force into the Crows’ forbidden shadow art.

[Shadow Art: Nightfall Massacre]

The ambient light vanished.

Not dimmed.

Vanished.

For one terrifying instant, the clearing became a world without light.

Then—

BOOM!

Dozens of solid, mass-bearing shadow-clones erupted from Vesper’s body.

They appeared everywhere.

Above.

Below.

Behind.

At Vince’s sides.

The clones blurred across the clearing at speeds that shattered the surrounding pine trunks. Their movements were so violent that the ground cracked beneath their feet.

A hurricane of spatial-cutting dark blades descended upon Vince from every conceivable angle.

The air shrieked.

Space itself fractured beneath the sheer density of Vesper’s killing intent.

Trees were sliced apart without the blades ever touching them. Chunks of bark were reduced to dust. The forest floor was carved with countless black scars.

Every single attack was aimed at Vince.

Every single one carried Vesper’s hatred.

Every single one was meant to kill.

And Vince didn’t move an inch.

He didn’t reach for his water-mana.

He didn’t even bother to dodge.

Instead, thick, obsidian-and-crimson dragon scales flared to life across his arms, shoulders, and jawline.

The transformation was almost casual.

That was what made it frightening.

CLANG!

The first spatial blade struck.

CLANG!

The second followed.

Then another.

And another.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Vesper’s spatial blades struck Vince’s scales in a deafening flurry of sparks and shockwaves.

The force behind each strike was enough to tear through enchanted armor.

Yet Vince simply stood there.

The blades skittered uselessly across his primordial skin.

One left a faint white scratch.

Another barely managed to mark the surface.

Nothing more.

Vesper’s black eyes widened.

For the first time since the slaughter of his squad, something other than madness flickered inside them.

Disbelief.

Vince slowly turned his head toward one of the shadow-clones.

The clone swung.

Vince didn’t even look at it.

The blade struck his shoulder.

CLANG!

Another harmless spark scattered into the darkness.

Vince finally looked back at Vesper.

”Is this the pinnacle of the Crows’ rage?”

His voice was deep.

Calm.

Completely untouched by the storm surrounding him.

Vesper’s expression twisted.

”Shut up!”

More clones rushed forward.

Vince sighed.

Then he flared his [Dark Dragon Aura].

The change was immediate.

A wave of localized, crushing pressure radiated outward from his core.

BOOM!

The ground beneath Vince’s feet sank.

The gravity in a thirty-foot radius plummeted, and the sheer weight of Vince’s compressed mana slammed into Vesper’s shadow-clones.

One after another, they were crushed.

Their forms buckled.

Their blades shattered.

Their bodies collapsed into harmless wisps of black smoke before they could land another strike.

The clearing suddenly went silent.

Vesper stood frozen.

His forbidden art had disappeared.

His strongest attack had been reduced to nothing.

Vince remained standing exactly where he had been.

Not a step backward.

Not a drop of blood.

Nothing.

Vesper’s breathing became heavier.

Then his eyes hardened.

The real Vesper lunged through the dissipating smoke.

His main shadow-blade was aimed straight for Vince’s throat.

There was no warning.

No wasted movement.

Just one final, desperate attack.

Vince raised a single bare hand.

CRACK!

His fingers closed around the edge of Vesper’s dark blade.

The assassin’s momentum stopped instantly.

The kinetic force of the collision shattered the soil beneath their boots.

Cracks spread outward across the earth.

Yet Vince’s hand remained unmoved.

Vesper stared at him.

Their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Vesper’s grip tightened.

His entire body strained against Vince’s hand.

Nothing.

He pushed harder.

Still nothing.

Vince looked down at the blade caught between his fingers.

Then back at Vesper.

”You should have stayed down.”

Vesper’s expression changed.

Before he could retract the weapon, Vince activated his dragon-core’s kinetic pulse.

The absorbed impact energy inverted.

For one brief moment, golden-red light gathered within Vince’s palm.

Then—

BOOM!

The stored force discharged directly into Vesper’s chest.

Vesper’s body was launched backward.

The force shattered his chest plate and sent him tumbling violently across the dirt.

He struck the ground.

Rolled.

Skidded.

Thirty feet later, he crashed into the roots of a shattered oak.

The forest fell silent again.

Meanwhile, in the quiet shadows fifty yards away, Lyrielle stood over Kira’s motionless body.

Her wooden staff was lowered.

She watched the distant clearing for several seconds.

The violent fluctuations of mana had begun to settle.

Lyrielle’s expression remained calm.

”Rest,” she murmured, turning her gaze toward the shockwaves emanating from Vince’s direction.

”It is over.”

She believed it.

The battle between Vince and Vesper was already decided.

And Kira was paralyzed.

There was nothing left to worry about.

Or so she thought.

On the dirt, Kira’s limbs remained locked in iron paralysis.

She couldn’t move her arms.

She couldn’t move her legs.

She couldn’t even draw a full breath.

Every muscle in her body refused to obey her.

Yet Lyrielle had overlooked one thing.

Kira hadn’t been relying on her muscles.

Inside her mouth, hidden on the underside of her paralyzed tongue, the intricate Crow sigil ignited.

THROB.

Lyrielle’s eyes narrowed.

She felt it.

Too late.

The sigil didn’t burn with normal mana.

It pulsed with a violent, sickening crimson-and-black light—a taboo soul-bound seal designed for a Crow’s absolute final gambit.

Kira’s eyes snapped open.

The tongue-sigil forcibly ignited her internal life-essence.

A surging current of superheated, dark mana rushed directly through her nervous system.

The shock-paralytic compound in her bloodstream was violently scorched away in a fraction of a heartbeat.

Kira’s fingers twitched.

Then her arm.

Then her entire body.

Lyrielle’s expression changed.

She immediately raised her staff.

But the mana spike had already reached its peak.

BOOM!

Kira exploded off the forest floor.

The dirt beneath her shattered as she lunged upward with terrifying speed.

Her body was still trembling from the strain.

Her breathing was ragged.

But she was moving.

And she was smiling.

Her eyes were bloodshot.

Her face twisted into a demonic sneer.

”Die, high-elf bitch!”

Kira crossed the distance before Lyrielle could properly reset her defensive wind domain.

The high-elf’s eyes widened.

Kira was already inside her guard.

Too close.

Far too close.

Kira didn’t bother with daggers.

Her fumbled belt was long forgotten.

Instead, from the secret sleeves of her coat, she produced two reinforced glass globes glowing with volatile, deep-purple plasma—acidic combustion compounds created by burning her own soul-mark.

Lyrielle’s pupils contracted.

”Wait—”

Kira slammed both globes directly against Lyrielle’s hastily summoned wind barrier at point-blank range.

EXPLOSION!

The localized blast shattered Lyrielle’s wind shield like glass.

The concussive shockwave threw the high-elf backward.

Her robes were singed.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She tumbled through the air, desperately trying to regain control.

But Kira didn’t give her a single second to land.

”Got you!”

Kira shadow-stepped through the smoke.

Her body dissolved into a zig-zagging blur of dark mist.

She vanished.

Lyrielle barely turned her head.

Kira materialized directly above her.

Two more vials appeared between her fingers.

Then another.

And another.

She hurled them downward.

CRASH!

The first struck the ground beside Lyrielle.

CRASH!

The second detonated against a nearby tree.

BANG!

The third burst into a cloud of corrosive mist.

Lyrielle twisted through the chaos, throwing up one wind barrier after another.

Each one lasted only moments.

Kira kept coming.

No pause.

No hesitation.

No mercy.

She shadow-stepped again.

Then again.

Every movement forced Lyrielle to react.

Every reaction opened another angle.

Every opening brought another attack.

”Where’s your composure now?!” Kira shrieked.

Her voice echoed through the forest.

She rained down an unrelenting barrage of corrosive vials and explosive flash-flings, completely abandoning defense in favor of overwhelming aggression.

Lyrielle gritted her teeth.

For the first time since the battle began, the high-elf was no longer controlling the pace.

She was reacting.

Retreating.

Surviving.

And Kira knew it.

That realization brought a savage grin to the Crow’s face.

She had been paralyzed.

She had been beaten.

She had been left on the ground while everyone assumed she was finished.

But she was still standing.

And now she was making Lyrielle pay for every second of that mistake.

The forest erupted with another explosion.

Lyrielle was forced backward.

Kira followed.

The battle was far from over.