Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Chapter 1272 - Taming the Old World - Shadow Dragons - Reinforcements - 5

So, the Vanguard fought with every ounce of strength they possessed.

Their objective was twofold: hold the current two hundred at bay, and incapacitate as many monsters as possible before the fresh reinforcements struck the wall.

Every single mutant that fell right now was one less nightmare to deal with when the second wave finally crashed against the wall. Victor carved a path of devastation through his designated sector. Arturo seamlessly plugged structural breaches. Julius and Taro fortified the stone barriers, while Min rained a relentless barrage of steam explosions from Wei's flying mount.

And below them, the hundreds of Gold tamers held the trenches like a unified, unyielding machine that simply refused to break against corruption.

They were systematically thinning the herd, inch by grueling inch, desperately trying to beat the slow yet unforgiving clock…

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When the hundred reinforcements finally crested the horizon, something unexpected occurred.

Selthia seemed to gauge the human situation, even if her assessment was flawed without a guiding consciousness to read the board perfectly. Instead of dumping the entire fresh battalion onto the capital's exhausted defenders, she splintered her forces. She diverted a couple of dozen high-tier beasts away from the city siege, routing them directly toward the southern front.

That tactical pivot left the capital facing roughly two hundred and seventy-five high tier enemies. It was not the catastrophic three hundred Arturo had anticipated, though it still represented a staggering threat.

Selthia had made a cold calculation. She deduced she did not need her entire arsenal to crush the capital. Two hundred and seventy-five would be more than enough to shatter the inner wall eventually, meaning those two dozen surplus monsters would yield a higher tactical return in the south, where she still harbored hopes of stealing a sovereign shadow dragon core and the ring.

It was her classic flaw surfacing once again. The same chronic indecision she had displayed, now poorly disguised as strategic resource management.

It was not a terrible maneuver, but it was far from optimal… And for the bleeding defenders in the city, those twenty-five absent enemies may be the difference that represented the razor-thin margin between drowning in the tide and keeping their heads above water.

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Meanwhile, in the southern front, the Vanguard's fresh arrivals had leveled the scales once more.

The offensive against the shadow dragon had reached a fever pitch. Sirius completely shifted the squad's combat dynamic. Utilizing his imposing Celestial Tiger's Light with a barrage of fused light beams and magic, he inflicted genuine, deep tissue damage on the guardian, tearing through the beast's defenses far more effectively than Zhao's hardened projectiles ever could alone.

Hikari and the other three guards were finally liberated from the burden of maintaining their grand illusions or defending only. The decoy strategy had outlived its usefulness, as Selthia already knew Ren was absent, allowing the women to fully dedicate their vast mana pools to supporting the aerial bombardment or using Mako and Shizu's earth skills as an attack in the field.

Furthermore, Mayo positioned her massive bird as a hovering sanctuary. This safe haven, combined with the influx of fresh combatants, granted Lin, Yang, and Zhao a desperate reprieve. The veterans who had been pushing their bodies beyond their limits for hours could finally catch their breath while eager hands took their place on the frontline.

The southern shadow dragon found itself trapped in an incredibly frustrating position.

It simply could not unleash its devastating breath upon Sirius and the flying tamers. It certainly tried, but the beast quickly realized it was impossible to lock onto the nimble targets. With the relentless pressure of the mutant swarm harassing it on the ground, the guardian's aim was constantly disrupted and forced wide.

Every single time the dragon reared its massive head to target the sky, a mutant would sink its claws into a vulnerable flank, jarring the guardian's focus and causing the apocalyptic breath to hit the empty air instead of the elusive humans.

The scene bordered on the absurd… It looked exactly as if the two opposing armies, the Vanguard and the corruption, had agreed upon a tacit, unspoken truce. They would both focus entirely on whittling down the towering guardian first, mutually deciding to postpone their own bloody dispute over the ultimate prize until the dragon was dead.

Consequently, the dragon's most lethal weapon was repeatedly triggered by pure, reactionary instinct. It fired directly into the throngs of mutants tearing at its scales, obliterating Selthia's forces instead of the annoying tamers stinging it from the clouds.

The sovereign beast was actively exterminating the corrupted horde. And the humans happily hovered out of reach, more than willing to let it do their dirty work.

Mayo did but Selthia found no humor in the situation.

However, commanding over two hundred high-tier mutants in the south, a number that would soon swell with the two dozen reinforcements redirected from the capital, allowed her to absorb the punishment.

She could afford the luxury of sacrificing beasts to the dragon's breath, confident she possessed the sheer volume to replace them and maintain the pressure.

Yet, the logistical cost was undeniably steep.

She had already lost three or four dozen Platinum mutants in the southern theater. The dragon's breath, Lin's bone-crushing kicks, the fortified walls, the spiritual fire wielded by the academy directors, and Sirius's renewed magical assault were grinding her army into dust. Her actual numbers on that front had dwindled to roughly one hundred and sixty, and they continued to plummet.

Every single attempt Selthia made to secure an advantage cost her dearly in corrupted flesh.

Across the sprawling, multi-front war, the picture was grim for her… The north was entirely lost, the capital was stubbornly holding its ground, and the south was slowly bleeding her dry.

The indecisive queen was steadily squandering the overwhelming numerical superiority that had served as her only real path to victory. By spreading her forces across too many disparate objectives, lacking a unified voice to dictate a singular focus, she was forced to watch her grand army crumble into disjointed fragments that ultimately achieved nothing.

Buried deep within her crystal isolation, utterly alone, she began to taste the bitter, familiar ash of another looming defeat.