Cybernetic Beast Taming In A Game-like World
Chapter 39: Lethal Force

Chapter 39: Lethal Force

Gasps of shock filled the arena outside the shield. Kekius turned to the professor with a pale face. "Professor Xan!" he shouted. "You said no lethal force! Doesn’t that count as lethal force?!"

Everyone, still silent and shocked, looked at the burly professor, waiting for his response.

Professor Xan stroked his chin, looking into the battleground as he thought. "Well... you are correc—"

"Hey look!" someone shrieked. "How can it be lethal force when he’s not hurt?!"

All heads whipped back to the battleground once again, and indeed, Jethro was completely unscathed. Apart from a few burnt patches on his clothes, and dark soot on his skin, he did not seem hurt at all. Murmurs filled the arena immediately, eyes widened.

Durn, fists still raised, jerked his head back in surprise. "What?"

Jethro spat something out, and only when it hit the floor did everyone realize that it was boiling lava. Some of it had gotten into his mouth during Durn’s attack. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, disgusted by the taste. "Tastes like ash," he muttered.

Durn blinked more than once. "You’re not hurt. How is that possible?!"

Jethro looked up at him then moved his shoulder, revealing Scorch right behind him. At that same moment, Eyefire— Durn’s Magmabear —leaped at the little lizard and it scurried away with speed.

"Thermal regulation," Durn muttered in realization. "That’s the only power Red Lizards share with their masters. But how the hell is yours so strong that it could regulate against lava?!"

Jethro was silent for a second, as though the question had actually taken him aback. Then he scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Durn. "You don’t expect me to let you in on all my secrets."

Durn grunted, and the molten rocks slowly reformed around his fists. "I’ll melt the secrets out of your corpse then! NGGAAAAHH!" He shot out a ball of wet flame at Jethro.

WHOOSH-BLAST!

Outside the tall neon shield, the students watched the battle go on, faces tight with expressions of anticipation, anxiousness, morbid curiosity and only a very few like Kekius with worry.

Someone amongst the crowd whispered, "No way."

It was a random boy. His eyes were locked on the battleground, specifically at Jethro as he dodged and ran from Durn’s attacks. "It’s him."

His friend, watching beside him, glanced at his direction. "What are you talking about?"

"My uncle is a trooper and my sister is a fifth year student," the boy muttered. "They told me about a squad that entered an actual Divergent Rift during the training missions that we all did. They faced the Conqueror himself in the Darc Throne Depths. And they all died... except a girl and a boy."

His friend made a face like he didn’t believe what he was saying. "What kind of story is that, Mark? You’re always coming up with nonsense."

"I mean it!" Mark exclaimed. "My sister said that the boy who survived had the weakest mechbeast she’d ever seen, and it ended up saving him because it gave him powers to regulate body heat!"

His friend burst out laughing. "So you’re saying right now that the scrap feeder is the boy your sister talked about? He survived the Conqueror but can’t beat a Silver Rank tamer?"

"It all checks out! It has to be him!" Mark said with wide eyes.

"That’s completely ridiculous!"

Two steps away, Princess Jessamine, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, smiled. "He’s right," she stated calmly.

The two boys turned to her. "Pri— Princess Jessamine."

Jessamine looked at them with an edge of pride and knowing. "It is completely ridiculous." Mark frowned, mumbling an ’o’ before looking away. "But it’s also completely true."

Mark’s head snapped back to her. Both boys had their eyes wide open. "Are you serious!" the doubting one asked.

Jessamine said nothing else, her eyes drifting back to the arena just in time to see Jethro stumble backward after narrowly dodging a back elbow from Durn. "Turns out I couldn’t keep your secret for long, Scales," she muttered. "I wonder how it will be for you now everyone knows you’re the one who survived the Conqueror."

The two boys turned to look at each other with bewildered expressions. Others around Jessamine’s orbit who had also heard the conversation began to murmur amongst themselves, and like wildfire, rumor spread.

Meanwhile, back in the battleground, Jethro was fighting for his dear life. Running and dodging. Professor Xan, who was watching with intense focus, grunted with frustration.

"Your aversion skills are admirable, Jethro Merrick! But you’re starting to bore me!" He slammed a meaty fist onto his console. "Throw a punch, dammit! Sometimes offence is the defence!"

Jethro stole a quick glance back at the annoying professor. ’Yeah, sometimes,’ he thought to himself. ’But with such a mismatch, there’s no offensive move that I can make against this guy.’ He parried a swift punch and backpedaled, leaping over Scorch and Eyefire who were entangled in their own battle.

’Durn’s Cyclops Magmabear gives him a 40% buff in Strength, a 30% buff in Stability, and 40% buff in Endurance. Not to talk about the magma powers it’s already sharing with him even at Hatchling Phase.’ He blocked a punch with his forearm, scowled at the burn, before eating the second punch straight to the jaw.

Jethro’s back hit the shield and fell forward. "Ughhh!" he let out a painful moan as he struggled up again.

"Hehehe!" Professor Xan drooled from his seat. "Looks like you’re still interested in fighting, Merrick!"

Jethro wiped blood from his nose. ’Lucky for me, the Magmabear didn’t boost his Dexterity or Agility stats. And it sure as hell didn’t boost his Intelligence.’

Durn roared, lifting his fist for a powerful potentially finishing blow. But Scorch leapt past his face at the exact moment, and his Magmabear, trying to grab the lizard, knocked Durn off balance.

"Eyefire!" he yelled at his mechbeast. "Stay out of the way!"

When he returned his gaze to where Jethro had been, he saw that he was no longer there. He spun around, only to be met with a punch built up with all the strength Jethro had summoned over the course of time wasting.

However, compared to Durn’s present strength, it felt like an adult getting hit by a nine-year old. Durn moved back, more by surprise than any actual pain. His face squirmed in rage when he realized that Jethro actually had the guts to hit him.

Jethro just breathed heavily, though his knuckles stung. ’If he had any intelligence at all, he would have known to stop being so wasteful with his powers. Especially not in a place like this.’

"Finally! Finally!" Xan exclaimed, hands in the air. "You threw a punch! It was an utterly shameful punch and achieved nothing at all. But it was still a punch!"

"You scrap feeding Sector Twelve trash!!!" Durn roared in outrage.

"That’s it," Jethro mumbled, taking steps backwards. "Get angry."

"No more taking it easy on you!" Durn thundered, slamming his molten fists together. "I’m going to finish you off right away. Leave you drowning in health debts for life!"

FWOOOM!

Durn exhaled, and heat erupted off him in a wave, distorting the air. His shoes disintegrated into ashes. Cracks spiderwebbed across the skin of his feet and his hands, glowing orange and red like molten stone, as if lava had carved itself into his flesh.

Jethro watched with caution. ’It’s not that cool. He’s just a knock-off Liongolem tamer.’ Then his eyes narrowed. ’But keep going. Keep burning more aether.’

Durn took one step.

When he raised his feet, it left a molten footprint that had melted the metal floor. The second step sank deeper, his magma-forged feet liquefying the alloy of the ground easily.

Each time he advanced, he melted the floor faster than it could register the damage, and the only reason he didn’t sink into the melted ground was because he moved just in time to the next step.

"Do you see the difference between you and I now, lizard trash?" Durn snarled as he got closer. "A mere Gray Ranked waste should not be as loudmouthed as you. So I’m going to melt your lips off. That way, you’ll never speak again."

He walked closer and closer, the radiating heat nearly unbearable now. But his face frowned when he noticed something: Jethro wasn’t backpedaling like he usually did.

"Not running away?" Durn laughed. "If you couldn’t face me before, what makes you think you can face me now?"

Jethro shrugged at his question. "I don’t have to face you. I just simply have to wait for a few more seconds."

Durn grimaced but still approached. "Stop acting smart!" He lifted his palm, summoning a boiling rock of orange hot magma. It burned and burned, building up fiery energy, and then...

It dimmed. And in cruel breath, vanished entirely.

Not just the rock of magma, but the entire liquid flames and molt on his hands and legs. Durn froze mid-stride, eyes wide.

Jethro grinned at his shocked face. "And the wait is over, ladies and gentlemen."

Durn glared at him. "What did you do?" he shrieked. It began to feel like his height was reducing for some reason. That was when he looked down and realized that his feet were being sucked into the melted ground and sinking deeper.

"Shit—" he gasped.

Before he knew it, he had sunk halfway into the ground. Without the heat, the self-repair enchantments in the arena activated and the metal ground began to harden again.

"No! No!" Durn cried as the ground solidified around him. His hands and legs were sealed inside, trapped in hardened steel up to the thighs. He grit his teeth, groaning in pain as he tried to pull himself out.

Jethro walked calmly up to the trapped, struggling boy. He stopped directly in front of Durn, who was now forced to look up at him, witnessing the triumphant grin on his face.

"There," Jethro said, standing tall. "Your height now matches your level when compared to me."