Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons novel Chapter 1136

Chapter 1136: Chapter 1136 - Taming the Wall - Incidentally - 3

Ren had learned at some point that Seraphina and Jeannette had also been quietly scooped up and placed securely under Julius’s massive and now untouchable political wing.

The Prime Minister prince was actively shielding them from the desperate, scrambling politics of their declining aristocratic branches.

The girls now held quiet, comfortable, highly respectable positions within the administration, completely insulated from the ruthless marriages and unscrupulous maneuvers their families had intended to use them for. Seeing Cassia standing here on the Wall, holding a comfortable administrative post with direct access to Selphira as a patron, cemented that intelligence as an absolute fact...

Neither Matilda nor Cassia approached him to speak.

They were sharp, highly trained operatives now, and they knew it was foolish. "Red Pathfinder" absolutely could not be seen having a casual, familiar conversation with high-ranking emissaries from the inner castle.

That would instantly invite the exact kind of dangerous, probing questions their entire ’elaborate masquerade’ was designed to prevent.

In truth, the administrative audit was just a convenient front. They were primarily here to silently observe his development, take meticulous mental notes, and report directly back to Selphira. Later, during one of Ren’s subterranean excursions, the ancient matriarch would undoubtedly corner him and deliver another heavy lecture regarding his leadership progress.

And on the specific subject of "leadership," Ren remained exactly as profoundly confused as he had been on day one.

Because the simple, undeniable fact was that he had just earned yet another military merit badge simply by doing his normal, day-to-day job.

He was just too useful...

It wasn’t just the sprawling network of autonomous towers. It was the bows. It was the vast, newly unlocked arsenal of runic options he was quietly introducing to the armory.

The ancient crystal brain had injected his mind with the architectural insight required to generate the highly complex micro-runes. For months, Ren had possessed brilliant ideas for enchantments, but he simply hadn’t known how to physically carve them; the clumsy, acidic-blood etching method required vastly more surface area than a weapon like an arrow provided.

Now? Armed with the supreme, almost atomic precision of the new crystal-molding techniques, that physical limitation was completely gone.

He could flawlessly compress longer, layered effects into almost microscopic crystalline runes. He was effortlessly embedding them directly into the broadheads of arrows, weaving them also into the bodies of the archers’ bows, and layering them into the systems of the towers.

Every single upgrade he casually introduced made his sector’s equipment exponentially more lethal. And every single time the equipment proved its worth in blood, the legend of "Red Pathfinder, the Prodigy Installer of new tech", leveled up.

’Is this actually what leadership is?’

Ren quietly chewed on the question as he watched Cassia audit the supply crates, completely unable to find an answer that satisfied him. He didn’t feel like a commanding officer. He didn’t feel like learning to be a general. He just felt like a guy who continuously built highly useful things, and as a bizarre byproduct, the people around him blindly admired him.

He didn’t stand on crates and deliver roaring, inspirational speeches. He didn’t draw a sword and command glorious, bloody charges into battle. He didn’t inspire the troops with his booming voice. He simply looked at a tactical nightmare, engineered a quiet solution to fix it, and let the body count do the talking.

But as the cold wind whipped across the stone parapets, Ren realized something profound. Perhaps that was enough.

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