Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

“Victor,” Julius said finally, “I understand your point. But Arturo also has a point about resources.”

“So what do you suggest?” Victor crossed his arms, his frustration evident in every line of his posture. “That we surrender?”

“I suggest we find a third option,” Julius stood, moving toward the strategic map that dominated the room. “One that uses our strengths without ignoring our weaknesses.”

The silence that followed was tense, but at least there was no more shouting. The weight of impossible decisions hung heavy in the air, pressing down on all three brothers as they contemplated their limited options.

Julius remained silent for several minutes, his eyes fixed on the strategic map that dominated the central table. His fingers traced supply lines and troop positions, calculating possibilities and probabilities with the methodical mind his father had never possessed.

Finally, he straightened, and when he spoke, his voice had a new quality that made both Victor and Arturo stop to listen.

“You’re right, Victor,” he said, surprising both men. “We have our own power, we can’t surrender… We’ve been living in our father’s shadow for too long.”

Arturo frowned, concern creeping into his voice. “Julius, I’m not suggesting we don’t take action, just that we be realistic about…”

“I’ve placed too much hope in Zhao’s journey to find father and in my secret weapon for convincing him to return,” Julius interrupted, something he rarely did. The admission carried the weight of accumulated disappointment. “Unfortunately, it’s been in vain. Years without seeing him… The last six months of greater hope… no news, no signs, nothing… My last attempt has failed.”

He moved toward the window, observing the military activity in the courtyard below. Soldiers drilled with skills they might need to use within days, their movements carrying the sharp efficiency of those preparing for real war.

“Enough of relegating myself to the shadow of that irresponsible man who left everything in our hands without warning several years ago.”

The bitterness in his voice was palpable, an emotion he had been suppressing for too long. The perfect King of legends had abandoned them at their most crucial hour, leaving juniors to fight seniors’ wars.

But years of responsibility had transformed the fledglings into full grown dragons.

“It’s time to live in the present and take charge of what I have in front of me,” Julius turned toward his brothers, his posture firmer than it had been in months. “And Victor has a valid point. We have to make a stand.”

Victor nodded vigorously, energy returning to his voice. “Exactly. We can’t keep acting in reaction to their movements.”

“The best time is now,” Julius continued, pointing to the map where a blue line marked the abyss bridge. “Sending our best troops to the bridge is probably our maximum priority. While Yino doesn’t completely cross, we can use the bottleneck to our advantage.”

Arturo approached the map, studying the marked positions with the eye of someone who understood logistics and supply chains. “Are you sure about this? Once we commit our elite forces there…”

“If we’re correct and our Yano has better quality in its high-level troops,” Julius traced lines with his finger across the map, “it’s necessary to put them at the bridge to prevent Yino from using their numerical superiority as too big an advantage.”

Victor smiled, the first genuinely positive expression he had shown in days. “A bottleneck negates numerical advantages. Forces smaller-scale combats, where individual quality matters more than quantity.”

“Exactly. On the other hand, you,” Julius pointed directly at Arturo, “need to focus on logistics. Specifically on keeping the city functioning and people not panicking.”

Arturo nodded slowly, understanding the logic. His role would be less glamorous but equally crucial… maintaining the foundation that made their military efforts possible.

“The new methods have been working. We’re very close to bringing many more people to the next level.”

“Bronze 2 might not be of great utility in direct battle,” Julius admitted, “but it is useful for resources, morale, internal stability.”

He moved toward his desk, where a collection of intelligence reports awaited review. Each document represented another piece of a puzzle that seemed to grow more complex by the hour.

“I’ll handle preventing more side changers, as much as possible through diplomacy, losing more internal support would be our last mistake… particularly now that Kharzan will have a greater possibility of bringing people to his side through fear.”

“Diplomacy when war already started?” Victor raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his tone.

“Yes, but for it to work we need a preemptive strike,” Julius explained, unfolding a more detailed map of regional alliances. “Something that demonstrates our strength before Kharzan can consolidate more support.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Julius pointed to two specific territories on the map. “Someone owes a promise that involves a spear to Kharzan… Selphira and Sirius would probably agree to a demonstration. Something that sends a clear message to our ‘would be’ traitors.”

Victor studied the map, his expression becoming thoughtful as tactical possibilities unfolded in his mind. “A limited but advantageous offensive. To show that we’re winning even while being attacked.”

“Exactly. While you hold the bridge, we can finish off the Goldcrest front and unify our territory.”

Arturo, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke. “If we do nothing, we’ll definitely fail…” he nodded firmly. “I suppose our more brutish brother is right this time. At least this way we have a chance to change the momentum.”

Julius turned toward Victor, his expression serious but determined. “Prepare to defend the bridge. Take our best units, our most experienced tamers of the highest rank and level.”

“How long do you think you can hold?” asked Arturo.

“What are you talking about? I’m going to win!”

“Brother, forget your delusions, this is serious…” Arturo’s voice carried the patience of someone explaining reality to an overconfident sibling.

Julius mediated. “If Yino has infinite troops and it doesn’t matter how many you bring down, more continue advancing… how long would you last?”

Victor considered the question, mentally calculating forces, supplies, and tactical variables.

“With the right troops and good defensive organization… A month fighting non-stop, maybe two if we’re lucky.”

“And in the worst case? If Yino brings the best of the best to the front of the bridge?”

“Two weeks,” Victor admitted, his voice carrying the weight of realistic assessment. “But two weeks where every soldier we lose will cost them double.”

Julius nodded approvingly. “Two weeks might be enough if we use the time correctly.”

He moved toward the door, but stopped at the threshold. “Victor, I want you to understand something. I don’t want you to go there to die heroically. I’m sending you to buy time while the rest of us prepare the next phase. As our older brother, you must be ready to succeed our father.”

“Understood.”

“And Arturo,” Julius turned toward his most cautious brother and advisor, “I need you to keep the city functioning no matter what they hear. People are going to be afraid, they’ll want to flee or do stupid things. Keep them focused on work, on continuous improvement.”

“And you?”

Julius smiled, an expression that combined determination with something that looked dangerously like the recklessness that had characterized their father. “I’m going to make some calls. If we’re going to make a stand, we’re going to do it all together.”

As he left the room, Julius felt something he hadn’t experienced in months: certainty. Not certainty that they would win, but certainty that they were making the right decisions with the information they had.

For the first time since his father had disappeared, he felt like a leader instead of a temporary substitute.

♢♢♢♢

At the Imperial Academy…

Han observed Klein from across the dining hall, taking mental notes about his target’s behavior. During the second semester, Klein, practically abandoned by his family, had tried to excel again, pushing himself harder than ever in his training and studies.

The results had been… mixed.

From Han’s perspective, Klein’s progress was frustrating to observe. The boy clearly had potential, and his academic scores were consistently high. The problem was that he had ended up in the same generation as overly outstanding classmates.

Ren continued dominating practically every category with the casual efficiency that made his superiority seem effortless. Luna and Larissa maintained their fierce battle for second position, followed by Liora. Even Min and Taro had shown dramatic improvements that placed them ahead of Klein in practical rankings.

But what surprised Han most was what Klein had not manifested.

Despite all the pressure, all the frustration, all the repeated humiliation, Klein had shown no signs of abyssal power since the original incident.

Han had been monitoring carefully, looking for any sign of renewed corruption, but Ren’s purification seemed to have been complete and permanent.

The psychological implications were fascinating. Most subjects exposed to abyssal corruption showed some form of residual effect, some vulnerability to reinfection. Klein appeared to be completely clean, as if the corruption had never existed.

“Are you okay?” asked Umi, sitting next to Han with her food tray.

The Coral tamer guard had stayed along with the other five for supplementary studies to recover time lost “at work”, since being so young, they had much to learn…

And as an excuse to monitor Klein.

“Just observing,” Han responded casually, maintaining his cover as an interested classmate rather than a professional intelligence operative.

“Klein?” Umi followed Han’s gaze. “He’s been more intense lately. Yesterday I saw him training past midnight.”

It was true. Klein’s fixation with surpassing Ren was pushing him to extremes that bordered on obsession. Each failure only intensified his determination, creating a cycle that Han found both fascinating and concerning from a psychological standpoint.

The pattern was textbook: an individual of genuine ability consistently outperformed by someone of exceptional talent, leading to increasingly desperate attempts to close an unbridgeable gap.

“Do you think he’ll ever succeed?” Umi asked ‘innocently’.

Han considered the question with the analytical detachment of someone trained to assess human potential. Klein had the raw capability, that was undeniable. His beast was of exceptional quality, and his dedication was absolute. But there was something in Ren that went beyond simple power or technique… He was too special.

“I don’t think so,” Han responded finally. “Not in the way he expects.”

“What would be the right way?”

Han observed as Klein rose from his table, presumably heading toward another evening training session.

“I think his problems might end after the conflict that’s approaching…”

Umi looked at him confused, but Han had already lost interest in explaining. He had reports to write that seemed tedious and unimportant… information about Klein probably wouldn’t be particularly valuable considering the times ahead.

Han finished his meal and rose to leave, already mentally composing his report. The intelligence apparatus had to continue functioning even as the world prepared to tear itself apart.

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