Novel Full Chapter 1059 - 1059: The Real Beast-Master!
Just as the elder’s booming voice declared, “Begin!” the entire arena erupted with energy. Dust whirled, mana surged, and killing intent flooded the battleground.
The nine opponents, their eyes burning with the shared intent to eliminate one man, rushed forward like a tidal wave. Their robes flared as spiritual energy poured into their bodies, and behind them surged a terrifying sight—sixty-six beasts of every race, size, and element.
The arena trembled under the stampede. Steel-scaled rhinoceroses, wind panthers, flame drakes, poison serpents, and ghostly crows charged together, their roars blending into a chaotic symphony of destruction. Each disciple had drawn upon their contracted pets, pouring their spirit-energy to empower them for this single strike.
The audience erupted into wild frenzy.
“There it is! Sixty-six beasts against one man—finish him!”
“That’s my wealth right there! Crush him, or I’m ruined!”
“Haha, I’ll get my mana crystals back today. That fat Lord tricked us long enough—Kent’s finally finished!”
“I placed my entire family’s savings on his loss. His doom is my salvation!”
The cheers turned into cruel laughter. Faces twisted with mockery, hands waved in drunken excitement. The spectators smelled blood in the air, certain Kent would soon be humiliated and sent fleeing like a coward.
Up in the elder’s seating, even the supreme magi leaned forward with curiosity. The pressure of sixty-six pets was enough to suffocate an ordinary supreme disciple, let alone the target of all nine participants.
And yet—Kent stood calmly in the far eastern corner, unmoving. His robe fluttered only slightly under the pressure. His face carried no nervousness, no shadow of doubt. His eyes, like cold lightning, watched the incoming tide of beasts.
Then, slowly, he raised his hand.
With a faint smile, he removed his storage ring—a ring vast enough to hold mountains—and flicked it into the air like a casual coin toss.
Ding…
The jade carvings etched upon the ancient ring glowed. The sound of metal striking against heaven rang across the entire arena. A low rumble followed, like the growl of the world itself. Thunder boomed above, rolling in waves that made the audience’s hearts tremble.
The sixty-six advancing beasts froze mid-charge, instincts screaming danger.
In the next breath, the air split open.
From the glowing ring, dozens of creatures appeared, one after another, flooding into the arena like divine guardians summoned from the heavens. Their roars shook heaven and earth, their auras instantly suppressing the opponent pets.
At the front stood Dragon Sparky, its obsidian scales glittering with arcs of golden lightning. Its breath alone sent cracks running across the arena floor. On Kent’s shoulder perched the One-Eyed Bandit, its mischievous grin showing sharp teeth, its single crimson eye gleaming with killing intent.
Around Kent, beasts formed a crescent moon formation, each exuding terrifying power.
A Nine-Tailed Fox, fur like flowing silver silk, tails swaying with seductive but deadly charm.
A Snow White Wolf, eyes gleaming with icy malice, mist curling around its paws like frost serpents.
A Lava Sprite, its molten body dripping sparks that sizzled against the floor.
A Mountain Lion, muscles rippling like moving boulders, claws sharper than steel.
A Celestial Eagle, wings spanning wide enough to cast shadows across half the arena.
A Void Serpent, its scales blending with the air, slithering like a phantom between dimensions.
A Thunder Ape, fists pounding its chest, each blow echoing like war drums.
A Crimson Flame Tiger, mane blazing like a living inferno.
A Sea Spirit Turtle, an ancient aura flowing from its shell, waves of spiritual water surging around it.
Every single pet is a rare and divine beast. More than 50 pets appeared from the storage ring.
The spectators fell into stunned silence. Mouths hung open, eyes bulged. The very air seemed to collapse under the collective weight of Kent’s beasts.
“Impossible…” an elder whispered, clutching his chair. “No disciple… no man alive… can contract so many beasts. Ten is the absolute limit of a soul’s capacity… but he—he…”
“Fifty…? No… more than fifty!” another elder gasped.
The nine opponents froze mid-stride, their faces pale. They exchanged hurried glances, each silently demanding: Who will go first?
Fatty Ben, standing near the edge of the arena, suddenly burst into loud laughter, breaking the silence.
“HAHAHA! Look at your faces! You dogs wanted my master to die? You fools forgot—he is the chosen inheritor of the War God! Do you even understand what that means? These beasts aren’t contracts of mortal effort. They are gifts of the gods themselves!”
The audience recoiled. Murmurs rose in waves. Panic replaced mockery.
One of the opponents, Ding Han, the zither master, gritted his teeth. He pressed his fingers against the strings of his instrument, his spiritual aura flaring. If I can enchant Kent’s beasts, make them riot… maybe there’s still a chance!
His melody rose like a silken net, spreading across the battlefield. The beasts wavered for an instant, their eyes flickering under the illusion of music.
But before his spell could bind them, the One-Eyed Bandit vanished from Kent’s shoulder in a blur. With a slash of its claws—
SNAP!
The zither’s enchanted strings snapped all at once, breaking with a pitiful wail.
Ding Han staggered, blood rushing to his throat. He nearly vomited in rage. His greatest weapon destroyed in a single blink, his status as a master reduced to that of a crippled dummy.
Panic surged among the nine. Whispers and doubts spread like wildfire. Should we still attack Kent? If his beasts are this strong, isn’t fighting him suicide?
Before hesitation could deepen, a sharp crack resounded.
Rina Lova had moved. Her whip, glowing with spirit energy, lashed across the field. With a single strike, she sent Ding Han flying out of the arena, his body tumbling helplessly across the stone.
The crowd gasped.
“She… she eliminated him?!”
“Why would she—”
But the reason was clear to every fighter inside.
The unity was gone. The alliance shattered. Kent was no longer the first target. He was an untouchable mountain. Now, the nine disciples realized with dread—they had to fight each other for that single remaining qualification beside Kent.
One by one, the disciples backed away, distancing themselves from one another, weapons raised in caution. The air became taut, a fragile balance ready to snap.
Kent? He had already turned away.
With a casual wave of his hand, he summoned his jade throne, its surface carved with ancient storm runes. He sat down gracefully, as though presiding over a court, and lifted a golden flask of wine.
He sipped leisurely, watching the chaos unfold below.
The audience boiled in outrage.
“Cheater!”
“Fight, you coward!”
“Shameless trickster, using beasts as shields!”
Curses rained from every direction, but Kent ignored them all. His calm, regal posture only stoked their fury further. To them, his absence from the true battle was an insult. To him, it was a statement—their scorn was beneath his notice.
The fight among the nine erupted. Blades clashed, spells ignited, beasts collided with roars of fury. Whips cracked, fireballs burst, earth walls shattered. Every disciple fought desperately, unwilling to be the next Ding Han.
Blood splattered the arena, but Kent only swirled his wine, eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
In the end, it was clear to everyone: this was no longer a battle of ten disciples. It was a trial of nine scrambling for scraps in the shadow of one man.
And that man, Kent, didn’t even need to lift a finger.