Rise of the Primordial Dragon beast tamer

As Freya lunged, her spear was a blur—a silver streak aimed straight for Azvoid's ribs.

But he was already gone.

A flicker. A ripple in space.

He reappeared behind her, arms crossed lazily. "Too slow."

Freya didn't hesitate. She spun, twisting her grip, the spear's shaft whistling toward his head.

Azvoid tilted back slightly. The attack missed him by less than a hair's breadth.

Another strike.

Another dodge.

It was almost absurd how easily he moved—like he wasn't even dodging, just existing in places where attacks couldn't reach.

Phantom Reflex—the Untouchable Reflex.

And it was fully kicking in.

Freya's teeth clenched as she went all in. A barrage of thrusts, sweeps, and feints, each one precise, each one deadly. But no matter how fast, how clever—

She couldn't touch him.

Azvoid grinned. "Come on, Unbreakable Spear. You're supposed to be one of the best."

Freya didn't respond. She simply shifted her stance, exhaling deeply.

The moment she moved again, Azvoid felt it

A sharp twist in space.

She wasn't aiming for him. She was aiming for where he would be.

Smart.

He barely warped out in time, appearing several feet away.

Freya's smirk was slight. "Almost had you."

Azvoid chuckled. "Not bad. You learn fast."

But the gap between them was still too wide.

He finally moved.

One instant, Freya was steady, spear raised—

The next, Azvoid was inside her guard, palm an inch from her stomach.

Freya was blasted backward, skidding across the ground before finally coming to a stop. Her spear trembled in her grip, her breathing sharp.

The entire crowd had gone silent.

Then—

A pulse of power surged through him.

His system flared to life.

Azvoid felt it.

That tension—like a taut string in his core, vibrating at the edge of snapping.

He had been close to breaking through for a while now, strength coiling in his veins like a storm waiting to be unleashed. And this fight?

It was the final push.

Freya lunged at him again, unwilling to admit defeat.

Her spear was an extension of herself, a silver blur slicing through the air. The crowd held their breath, anticipation thick in the air.

Azvoid simply tilted his head. The weapon passed inches from his cheek.

Freya grinned. "Not bad."

Azvoid returned the smile. "I know."

The next instant, she twisted, launching a brutal spin-kick aimed at his ribs.

Azvoid shifted his weight—just slightly—and the attack barely missed, her leg skimming past him, the faint warmth of her skin brushing against his arm.

A few members of the crowd definitely noticed.

One particularly loud guy whistled. "Damn, if you're gonna get that close, at least buy her dinner first!"

Another laughed. "Bro is dodging temptation itself!"

Freya didn't even flinch. She capitalized on the moment, driving the blunt end of her spear toward his stomach.

Azvoid barely had to move. His Phantom Reflex guided him through the perfect counter.

Freya was good. Really good. But the fight wasn't even close.

Within a second, he was past her guard.

His hand met her stomach with just enough force to make a point.

A shockwave erupted.

Freya was launched back, her boots skidding across the floor... again as she barely kept herself upright.

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"HE JUST BLEW HER BACK WITH A TOUCH!"

Freya, breathless, blinked in disbelief. Then, despite herself—she laughed. "Damn. That was fun."

Azvoid rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly.

And that's when it hit.

A surge.

Raw, unfiltered power rushed through his core, that final thread inside him snapping all at once.

His system flared to life.

Host has crossed the threshold. Strength tested. Shackles broken.

Congratulations, Host. You have advanced to C-Rank.

Power recalibrating…

The air rippled. Space itself warped around him for a brief second, his very presence pressing against reality.

Gasps rang through the crowd.

Even Amelia looked stunned. "Wait… that fight just—? He was already on the edge?"

Freya wiped the sweat from her forehead, eyeing him with newfound curiosity. "So that's what that pressure was…"

Lola, standing off to the side, watched silently.

She clicked her tongue. "Tch. Show-off."

Azvoid flexed his fingers, feeling the raw strength coursing through him.

He wasn't just stronger.

He had ascended.

And he had a feeling things were only just getting started.

!