Chapter 41: Combat Trial III
Chapter 41: Combat Trial III
If there’s one thing to be learned from being bonded to an Interstellar Beast, it’s that nobody gives you a manual. Not even a "Hey, congrats on the interstellar silver fox, here’s how to use her and not to die" pamphlet.Nope. Just a furry beast, tiny claws, and a telepathic connection that worked better than anything Damian had ever felt before.
Damian was slowly, and steadily learning what it truly meant to be bonded with an interstellar beast.
The way he’d first used Kitsuul’s power had been the roughest, most unrefined approach possible. He had known she existed, that she was bonded to him, and that her power had already strengthened his body—made him faster, strong enough to bend metal, more resilient, and harder to break.
But that was all.
He hadn’t looked deeper. Not until now- not until this trial forced his hand six hours ago.
Now, he was starting to understand.
The bond they shared wasn’t just energy. It was a stream of thought, a connection stretching from his core being to hers—something fragile if ignored, but capable of becoming the most powerful tether imaginable of focused on.
The more he focused, the more he embraced and explored that connection, the faster he could send thoughts to her. The more clearly he could feel her, draw power from her.
Across the trials—the hellish desert, the frozen tundra, the metallic wasteland—he hadn’t just survived. He’d earned time. Time to focus. To listen to the quiet hum of that link between them all the while listening to Lyra Veyrin as well. To realize that this bond, when refined, could be the source of something far greater than strength.
It felt like a bridge. A fragile one, at first. But every moment he worked on it, poured effort into it, it gained structure. Strength. Foundation. And that made everything that traveled between them—thoughts, power, instinct—infinitely sharper.
That’s how he sensed it and many other things at this moment.
The instant the Winged Peacock Lion of the Trial Guardian lunged, Damian’s eyes—already glowing silver—narrowed. He looked more beast than man.
Through the bond, he saw the massive creature charging toward him as though the world had slowed. He shifted sideways just in time, the claw missing him by inches.
And then, through that same mental tether, he imagined a silver orb—a tight, circular condensation of energy forming at Kitsuul’s tail and launching like a whip toward the Trial Guardian.
It landed flawlessly.
The air screamed with speed as it cracked into Alex, knocking the breath from his lungs and flinging him backward.
His eyes shook. He clutched his stomach in disbelief as his interstellar beast roared and rushed back to protect him.
The silence that followed? Crushing.
Thrown to the ground, Alex could feel invisible eyes descending on him from every direction, full of mockery and disappointment.
Of course, none of that was real.
But people like Alex—people who thought the world revolved around them—tended to believe it was. Every glance felt like judgment. Every silence, an accusation.
In reality? Most people weren’t watching. Weren’t thinking of him at all.
And the ones who were?
They were watching Damian.
The distant Trial Guardians. The Trial Beast Masters near the arena’s edge.
Lyra Veyrin...her gaze focused. Even her Blue Slime flapped its wings in something that resembled applause.
Even Serena—the Serpent Queen herself—turned her head. Her surprise was subtle, but it was there.
Damian didn’t flinch beneath the weight of those gazes. But his opponent—who wasn’t even being looked at—was crumbling.
And then, Alex snapped.
"Burn him... scorch him entirely!"
BZZT!
The command rang out, and the Winged Peacock Lion erupted in green-gold flames, turning from its Master and charging again.
Damian didn’t move. Not right away.
He focused on the bond again.
He felt Kitsuul’s fur brushing his shoulder. Felt the wind that passed between them. Felt the compact, coiled strength buried in her tiny frame.
She was a mystery. Her power, a locked door he was only beginning to open.
But through the bridge they were building, he felt it—silver energy flowing into him, cloaking his body in a faint, shimmering veil.
The flaming beast lunged again. Damian didn’t react with panic—he moved diagonally to the right, speed blurring. He passed the beast with barely a whisper of motion, circled left, and appeared in front of Alex before the Trial Guardian could even rise.
Alex’s blurry vision barely registered the shadow falling over him.
And then...BOOM!
A thick hand gripped his face and smashed him back into the arena floor. The metal cracked beneath the impact.
Damian’s gaze was cold. Unmoving.
Still holding Alex’s head, he lifted the stunned guardian, spun him around, and used his body as a shield—presenting him to the roaring beast that had just turned around, ready to defend.
Why fight the beast?
Why bother with fire and fangs...
When the real weakness was standing right behind it?
And now, as he held Alex like a trophy, Damian lifted his gaze toward Guardian Flameborn and asked, voice calm and cutting.
"Can this be considered a pass?"
...!
Can ir be considered a pass!
A simple question that was calm and direct in nature, but it made Trial Guardian Alex feel like his entire face was on fire.
Above him, standing atop a blazing Flaming Eagle Archaeopteryx, the actual Guardian held a stern expression. She looked down at the wreckage of the fight and shook her head with a trace of sharp-edged disappointment.
"It seems that even if we gave you a full ten minutes," she said, voice echoing frost, "this poorly chosen Trial Guardian, Alex, still wouldn’t be able to do a thing to remove you from the arena. This is most definitely a pass. Let me be the first to welcome you and congratulate you on successfully completing the ZENTHRA Beast Trials."
Then her tone dropped.
"And it seems I’ll also need to re-evaluate dear little Alex here... see whether he’s still deserving of being a Trial Guardian after such a pathetic performance."
...!