Chapter 42: Trial Guardian I
Chapter 42: Trial Guardian I
Her words had started cold, but by the end, they were arctic as they felt like serrated blades cutting against the muscle and flesh of a beated down Trial Guardian!Damian said nothing. He simply let Alex’s body drop to the arena floor and turned to walk away.
But then, he paused.
He looked back once, silver light burning in his eyes. The Trial Guardian, barely conscious but still filled with hate, lifted his head to meet Damian’s gaze.
He knew that Alex was likely to do another stupid action like combat his Beast to attack him when his back was turned.
He just looked like that sort of dumbass with absolutely no brain cells.
Damian didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. That look, laced with a warning glow, spoke volumes.
And it worked.
Alex, jaw clenched, swallowed his next action.
With a grunt, he mentally commanded his beast forward. The Winged Peacock Lion obediently picked him up in its jaws and began walking toward the exit, hurried and humiliated.
Once again, Alex’s insecurities drowned him. The longer he stayed, the more it felt like the world was watching, mocking, and whispering about him.
The reality? Almost no one cared. Not anymore.
Even the girl with the same synthetic beast as him, another lab-crafted ZENTHRA product, wasn’t looking at Alex at all. Her eyes gleamed with interest... and they were locked on Damian.
Damian walked off the arena floor, not toward the Trial Beast Masters, but toward the patch of green land where the Trial Guardians stood, distant and still.
His movements were the embodiment of composure and control. He stopped a few meters away from the others, eyes fixed on the next match unfolding like nothing that happened involved him at all.
Above them, Guardian Flameborn narrowed her eyes. Her voice, sharp and cutting, rang out:
"Alright. Let’s get the next one up. Who’s going?"
Her gaze swept over the remaining Trial Beast Masters. From the five who remained, one of the more exhausted-looking ones raised his hand. He stepped forward with firm purpose as a Violet Crystal Crocodile lumbered up beside him.
He looked built like a tank—broad-shouldered and thick-skinned. His beast matched him, a slab of muscle armored with jagged violet crystal scales.
He didn’t hesitate. His gaze cut across the Trial Guardians and landed on a woman with a Rosewood Hound.
Flameborn confirmed the match with a dismissive flick of her fingers, her irritation barely hidden.
"Alright, Becca. Get the hell up there. And if I don’t see some actual strength from a Trial Guardian who’s been suckling at the tit of ZENTHRA this long..." Her tone dropped, laced with warning. "I’ll be evaluating every single one of you. Whatever contracts you’ve signed—understand this. They can be rewritten. Voided. Terminated. Especially if you’re found lacking."
Her words weren’t just directed at Becca. It was a clear shot across the board. A warning.
And it worked.
Nobody would dare underperform now. Everyone would fight like their future depended on it—because it did.
"AWOO!"
The Rosewood Hound howled as Becca climbed onto it with a firm expression, leaping onto the Combat Arena with urgency.
And just as the action began...
"Hey again, handsome..."
The voice drifted to Damian’s ears like silk wrapped around a blade.
He turned slightly, already knowing who it was. The woman on the back of another Winged Peacock Lion was gliding toward him, her presence confident, unbothered, and radiant.
Draped in a pristine white ZENTHRA Trial Guardian suit, this Trial Guardian didn’t even blink at the fact that her fellow Trial Guardian, the one she shared a synthetic beast type with, had just been demolished.
She remained seated on her beast, chin resting on her hand, eyes squinting down at Damian with barely concealed curiosity.
"I’m Ariana," she said, casual and composed. "I’m curious what Class Trait your cute little beast has—if she can empower you enough to knock down a guy with zero self-respect."
It was the kind of question you didn’t ask lightly. Class Traits were sacred among Beast Masters—private, powerful, dangerous.
Damian met her gaze calmly, unphased. Continuing the ruse of indifference, he gave her the smile people expected.
"Just an Evolved Class Trait. Nothing too crazy," he said evenly. "I was only able to knock him down because I used my beast properly. Kept her close. He, on the other hand, made some seriously dumb decisions."
It was a message—clear and simple. What he’d done wasn’t impressive. Just efficient. His Interstellar Beast? Standard issue. Nothing wild.
Out of the four known classifications—Basic, Evolved, Apex, and Unique—he’d claimed his was simply Evolved.
But Ariana’s lips curved into a full crescent. Her gaze shimmered with interest. She didn’t believe him. Not for a single second.
Around them, the other four Trial Guardians wore a variety of unreadable expressions. Each one silently drawing their own conclusions.
Even the Serpent Queen herself tilted her head slightly—listening.
"I see," Ariana replied smoothly. "Well, that makes this a moment worth celebrating. You’re joining our ranks now... and whoever else makes it through will too. So why not mark the occasion?"
She grinned wider, voice playful and bold.
"Tonight. 10 PM. Club Skyspire. Invite-only. Glassbloods and Beast Masters. I can get us in with a whisper. What do you say, handsome?"
Her smile was brilliant, perfectly poised. Her hair shimmered in streaks of black and red, her eyes lit with the entitlement of someone who’d never heard the word no in her life.
And Damian? He was about to be the first one to say it.
Then—BZZT.
His earpiece buzzed.
A voice he hadn’t heard in six hours slid into his mind like a tether catching a falling star.
"Say yes."
...!
Anastasia Veln.
The sound of her voice hit Damian harder than Ariana’s challenge ever could. A grounding warmth spread through his chest, something steady and familiar amid the chaos.
For the first time in hours, he felt something that had been missing as he heard her voice.
Relief.
He exhaled, eyes flicking toward Ariana.
"Sure."
...!