Rise of the Primordial Dragon beast tamer

The training hall had gone silent. Not the respectful kind of silence. No, this was the what-in-the-actual-hell-just-happened kind of silence. The kind that made people's brains short-circuit.

Azvoid stood at the center of it all, his body thrumming with raw power. The golden glow of his advancement had long since faded, but the aftershocks still rippled through the air. C-Rank. In less than a month.

Someone finally found their voice.

"No… that's impossible."

Heads snapped toward the source—some nameless guild member whose jaw was practically scraping the floor. He wasn't alone in his disbelief. Murmurs spread like wildfire, whispered theories swirling in hushed voices.

"No, seriously. That guy was F-Rank when he joined, right?"

"Yeah, I was there. Just a few weeks ago."

"Holy shit, what the hell kind of training does he do? Does he just… grind monsters in his sleep?"

One of the female guild members—a sultry elf with emerald-green hair—let out a low whistle. "Forget the training, I wanna know what kinda 'stamina' he's packing if he can level up this fast…"

A few chuckles rose at that, while others gave her scandalized looks. Another girl from the crowd—an athletic beastkin with fox ears—crossed her arms and smirked. "Maybe we should test it firsthand. Y'know, for experimental purposes."

Azvoid rubbed his temples. "Can we not?"

Someone else—this one a burly man with scars and way too many missing teeth—grunted. "You sure this guy's human? No way an F-Rank skyrockets to C that fast."

Another muttered, "Unless he's been eating magic cores like snacks…"

A new voice broke in, smug and taunting. "Or maybe he is the monster."

Silence.

The tension in the room thickened. All eyes turned toward the one who had spoken—Ardan, one of the White Lotus Guild's higher-ranking members. Tall, with a sharp, angular face and a confident smirk, he leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed.

"Come on, think about it," Ardan continued. "In a single month, he goes from F-Rank to C? That's unheard of. Either he's hiding something, or he's got a secret technique none of us know about." His eyes flicked toward Amelia. "Well, Guild Master? Got any thoughts?"

Amelia, who had been observing the scene with an unreadable expression, finally stepped forward. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto Azvoid, and for a moment, he wondered what she was thinking.

Then she sighed and smiled. "You're all overthinking it. Some people are just that talented."

The room erupted again.

"That's not normal talent, that's freakish talent."

"If he's that strong now, imagine where he'll be in another month…"

One of the guys groaned. "Gods, even the geniuses don't level up this fast. What, does he have some overpowered sugar momma feeding him elixirs?"

Another girl snickered. "Forget elixirs, I'd volunteer as tribute if it gets me stronger that fast."

Azvoid exhaled slowly. "You people need help."

At this point, even Geastrice Lola was staring at him, eyes narrowed. "I knew you were strong, but this…" She folded her arms, her golden eyes unreadable. "This is ridiculous."

Azvoid shrugged. "Just good ol' hard work and effort."

A heavy silence followed.

Then someone muttered, "Bullsh*t."

Azvoid smirked. "Yeah, I wouldn't believe me either."

Laughter erupted, tension easing slightly. But the undercurrent of disbelief, curiosity, and speculation remained.

And just like that, his name was no longer something people ignored.

Azvoid Larkson—the enigma. The mystery. The rising star.

And if anyone thought he'd stop at C-Rank, they were dead wrong.

Freya stood frozen, her flushed face a battlefield of emotions—shock, disbelief, and something dangerously close to panic. Around them, the guild hall buzzed with chaos.

"Did that really just happen?!"

"Peak D-Rank to C-Rank in a single fight… What kind of monster is he?!"

"Forget that—Freya actually has to keep her end of the deal!"

Amidst the murmurs, some idiots in the crowd were already making weird remarks.

"Aren't high-level breakthroughs supposed to be accompanied by enlightenment and divine revelations? And here we are, witnessing this dude's ascension because of this motivation."

"Honestly, if leveling up was that easy, I'd be out there challenging Freya every damn day."

"Not that she'd accept. Only a madman like him would pull this off!"

Azvoid, still basking in the post-breakthrough surge of power, cracked his neck, his black obsidian eyes locking onto Freya. He smirked. "Well, you did say you'd follow through, right?"

Freya stiffened, her already pink ears burning crimson. She wasn't sure what to regret more—the reckless bet or the fact that a part of her wasn't even mad at the outcome.

The hall erupted.

"HE'S REALLY CALLING HER OUT!"

"Respect! This man's got no shame!"

"Freya, just say you were joking! Nobody will blame you!"

Freya exhaled, closing her eyes for a second as if praying for strength. Then, with a defiant tilt of her chin, she opened them. "Fine."

Gasps filled the hall. No one expected her to actually go through with it.

Azvoid leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Oh? And here I thought you'd try to run."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Not all of us go back on our word, Larkson." She stepped toward him with slow, deliberate strides, the tension in the air palpable. "Just… get it over with."

The entire guild hall went silent, every breath held.

Then Freya moved.

Fast—unbelievably fast. A sharp motion, a blur, and—

SMACK.

A clean, almost professional slap landed on his shoulder.

"There. Satisfied?" she muttered, her voice laced with an odd mix of embarrassment and amusement.

The silence that followed was so intense it might as well have been a funeral.

Then someone in the crowd burst out laughing.

"THAT WAS THE MOST WHOLESOME HAND-HOLDING I'VE EVER SEEN!"

"Holy hell, I feel cheated!"

"She really turned a shoulder massage bet into a damn handshake?!"

Azvoid himself was momentarily caught off guard before a chuckle rumbled from his throat. "Clever. Should've seen that coming."

Freya smirked, flipping her hair. "Not my fault you didn't specify the type of touch."

The crowd went wild. Some booed playfully, while others praised her tactical evasion.

"Still, a deal's a deal," she added before turning away, but not before Azvoid caught the briefest glint of something in her golden eyes—a challenge.

Lola, standing at the sidelines, looked between them and huffed, crossing her arms. "Hmph."

Azvoid raised a brow at her. "What?"

Lola only turned her head away. "Nothing."

Azvoid smirked to himself. Oh, he knew that tone.

The day was turning out very interesting....