Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons novel Chapter 1085

Chapter 1085: Chapter 1085 - Taming the Wall - True Ruins - Recollection

He clearly remembered leaving the thirteen-year-old and his little group of friends behind on the trail.

The kid hadn’t gone down easily. He had fought back with a terrifying, reckless intensity. It was the exact brand of stubbornness Sirius had learned to recognize in the boy who eventually caused massive, world-altering problems, for better or worse, depending entirely on which side of the battlefield you stood.

"Stop playing hero and go back to school," Sirius had told him more or less with different words. He had spoken with the absolute finality of a man who had zero time for negotiations, heavily implying he would personally beat the kid senseless if he followed.

The boy had challenged him anyway. He had proven he wasn’t just a nuisance; he was genuinely dangerous.

But Sirius was an elite. He had crushed the kid’s resistance, turned his back, and continued his journey to get the stuff needed to recover the statue of his wife alone.

Then Julius had arrived, and the situation had rapidly spiraled out of control. The mutants had swarmed.

The beasts he encountered on the path to the chamber were exactly what one would expect in the outer rings: Silver-rank horrors, breeding in massive numbers as the corruption aggressively ate and rotted the root systems of the world.

But their movement hadn’t been mindless. There was a linear, unnatural pattern to their migration.

They were heading toward the city.

It wasn’t a perfectly coordinated military march, but there was enough consistency for a veteran to read the grim reality written in the dirt. A horde was gathering.

Even knowing that, Sirius hadn’t turned back. He couldn’t abandon his mission now. So he pushed forward, upstream against a relentless, snapping tide of mutated flesh.

He slaughtered them, one by one, carving his path into the dark.

But he had to ration his energy with the grim, calculated determination of a man stranded in a desert counting his last drops of water.

Mana was strictly reserved for catastrophic emergencies. Raw, physical strength had to carry him through everything else. It was the only viable strategy to carve a path through the suffocating tide of mutated beasts surging toward the city without burning out before he even reached his objective.

And the tide was massive. A relentless, chittering river of corrupted flesh.

He wasn’t entirely alone in the culling, though. The environment itself fought back. Golden Noses, clustered by sheer luck along the migration route, dove and pecked at the Silver-rank beasts flooding beneath them. They struck with the frenzied voracity of predators that had stumbled into a boundless feast. Many of the birds were so bloated they could barely move, yet they kept striking, driven by blind instinct because the feed just kept coming.

In the Gold 2 zone, the bloody pattern repeated. Deeper still, in Gold 3, the colossal, carnivorous sprouts of the giant forest floor were literally choking on prey. Some vines hung limp and unresponsive, their mana digestive capacities completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of bodies.

The entire ecosystem was gorging itself, and it still wasn’t enough to stem the tide.

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