Beast Tamer Era: Capturing SSS-ranks with the Strongest Taming System-Chapter 125: Necromancer

Ray didn’t move an inch, even as nearly the entire Serpent Tribe closed in on him.

He waited patiently, his eyes steady, searching for that perfect moment. The one instant where he could end the fight in a single move.

He let them come so dangerously close that their green, venomous breath brushed against his metallized skin and their weapons almost kissed his flesh.

Then, as blades and spears flashed and tails and claws whipped through the air, his eyes flashed purple, and he seemingly disappeared.

He hadn’t used Lightning Step. He had simply moved with such extreme speed that it created the illusion he had vanished into thin air.

BOOOOOOM!

His lightning-fast movement triggered an explosion that tore through the chamber like a giant’s roar, a shockwave bursting outward from where he had vanished and slamming into everything in sight.

All the serpentine creatures in the chamber were flung through the air.

They crashed into pillars, walls, and each other with such earth-shattering force that not only did cracks spread throughout the place and dust rained from the ceiling like snow, but the entire chamber trembled violently, threatening to collapse under its own weight.

Luckily, it didn’t come crashing down. Otherwise, they would all have been buried alive.

When the dust finally settled, Ray was the only one left standing.

His gaze swept across his surroundings, taking in the devastation he had caused.

His opponents lay sprawled across the cracked stone floor, their bodies twisted in pain and exhaustion.

Their weapons were bent and broken, scattered across the ground like remnants of a lost war.

None of them were dead, but every single one bore injuries and felt defeated and overwhelmed with awe and disbelief.

What they felt was palpable as their emotions showed on their face.

When their disbelief gave way to reason and they finally processed what had happened—that Ray had accomplished a feat impossible for anyone below the Silver Rank—they struggled back onto their feet before kneeling to him one after another, lowering their heads in silent submission.

As soon as they knelt to him, notifications rang out.

♦️ Congratulations, Host. The entire Serpent Tribe has submitted to you.

♦️ You can now command them to do your bidding, as long as your reputation with them does not fall below Neutral.

♦️ You have completed a hidden mission. The Reputation Window has become accessible to you.

♦️ Your reputation represents the Tribe’s perception of you, determining how loyal, obedient, or hostile they are toward your rule.

It follows a scale with distinct stages.

From worst to best, it’s as follow.

♦️ Hostile: They despise you and will actively seek ways to betray, undermine, or kill you. Any command you give will likely be ignored or sabotaged.

♦️ Unfriendly: They obey only out of fear or compulsion. Their loyalty is shaky, and disobedience is common.

♦️ Neutral: They neither love nor hate you. They follow your orders without passion or defiance, treating your commands as obligations they are duty-bound to fullfill.

♦️ Friendly: They begin to recognize your strength and wisdom. Cooperation increases, and they execute your orders with passion, increasing success rate.

♦️ Loyal: They acknowledge you as their rightful ruler. They will defend you, sacrifice for you, and even fight among themselves to uphold your will.

♦️ Devoted: Their loyalty transcends reason. They revere you as something close to divine. Betrayal becomes impossible, and they act in your interest even without explicit orders.

♦️ Currently, your reputation with the Serpent Tribe lies between Neutral and Friendly as you have won them over through the Right of Conquest and through Mercy.

Among the members of the Serpent tribe, some of them saw him as a harbinger of change, a being of strength worthy of following. Others regarded him with fearful awe, their hatred for him fading into reluctant reverence.

A few whispered quietly among themselves.

"What’s your reason for submitting to him?"

"Because I believe he deserves it. He have the strength to defeat our entire tribe in one move, yet he still have a heart merciful enough to reason with us using our way instead of forcing his rule upon us. Such a man deserves my respect regardless of race. What about you?"

"I believe strength he’s the one mentioned in the prophecy."

"You think he’s the Blinding Light destined to lead us out of the swamp?"

Hunter Sarthan received a nod in return from General Morrack.

"Perhaps our master also suspects he’s the Blinding Light mentioned in the prophecy. So he submitted to him without consulting with us first."

General Morrack didn’t know the Flying Serpent was a big-time coward. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

To preserve its life, it was willing to act like a docile pet for Ray.

After all, to the Flying Serpent, dignity was a currency far cheaper than life.

It would hiss words of loyalty it didn’t truly feel, flatter him when needed, and nod its head even when humiliated, so long as it could keep breathing.

*******

Ray put every member of the Serpent Tribe in the Monster Palace except for the Flying Serpent as he had plans for it.

"How good are you at acting?" he asked.

"I don’t know," the Flying Serpent replied after a moment. "I have never acted before."

"What if it concerns your life?" Ray questioned. His tone was calm, but edged with a threat that washard to ignore.

The Flying Serpent’s tongue flicked nervously. "Then I will perform better than any stage performer who has ever lived, my lord."

"Good," Ray said, a faint smirk curving his lips. "Because I have a script for you. You better get it right when it’s time for you to act it out. I don’t want the next battle to drag on any longer than it’s necessary."

"I won’t disappoint you," the Flying Serpent hissed, bowing its head low. "You have my word."

"See that I don’t regret keeping you alive," Ray replied.

Leaving the labyrinth with the Flying Serpent, they set off toward the Great Wall.

A war should be going on their if the necromancer had stayed true to his plan.

Soon, in the distance, the silhouette of a massive stone structure became visible through the thin mist.

This was the Great Wall.

True to its name, it stretched as far as the eye could see. It was over a hundred meters tall.

From afar, it looked like hundreds of giants standing side by side to form an impenetrable wall.

Whoever came up with this must have really thought a lot to keep the danger of the Misty Swamp Region forever separated from the lands of the Three Kingdoms.

But whether things would go accordingly totally depended on the defenders struggling desperately to curb the advancement of the army of the dead laying siege to the Great Wall.

Dark smoke billowed into the crimson sky, where vultures circled lazily above a battlefield littered with corpses, broken siege weapons, and shattered bones.

The air stank of rot and death as a sea of skeletal warriors and decaying corpses swarmed the base of the Great Wall like countless flies.

Their hollow eyes burned with eerie blue fire. And each of them carried well honed blades and shields.

They clawed and climbed over one another to scale the Great Wall.

From atop the Wall, the defenders fought desperately.

Archers loosed arrows until their fingers bled. Some arrow missed, but most met their marks as there were too many targets. Skulls and bones shattered under the impact, but the dead knew neither pain nor rest. Even with parts of their bodies blown off, they continued scaling the great wall.

Only when fire and lightning was hurled into their ranks to damage them so badly they won’t be able to continue did the army of the dead took a noticeable hit.

The defenders on the Great Wall were fighting with everything they had to stave off the endless horde, but no matter how many undead they struck down, more clawed their way up from the sea of corpses below. For every one they knocked down the wall, ten more took its place.

Worst still, as the war raged on, they were growing exhausted. Yet the dead... the dead knew no exhaustion, no pain, no fear!

"We can’t let this situation continue. Or it will end very badly for us," said an old voice.

"The only way to end this," the commander muttered between gasps, "is to kill that bastard over there."

In the very heart of the horde below the great wall, on a rise surrounded by obelisks, stood a massive obsidian throne.

Upon it sat a gaunt, emaciated figure clad in tattered, decayed robes.

He was pale white, his body rotting like a month-old corpse, marred with holes from which worms crawled in and out. His fingers were long and claw-like, and his eyes were like two burning coals set deep within his skeletal face.

This was the Necromer, the person commanding the dead to storm the wall.

The only way out of this nightmare was to kill him.

His death wouldn’t bring an end to the seige, but without his command, the army of the dead would devolve into mindless husks driven only by hunger for the living.

Then, and only then, could the living hope to push them back.