Beast Taming: Reincarnated With The Ultimate Bond System!-Chapter 253 - : : Ricor De Lano!

"Dear Brother," Elara purred softly, "a talking vulture statue. How delightfully absurd."

Elarion’s lips curved in a rare, genuine smile. "Absurd, yes. But effective. I wonder if he’ll yawn at the commoners."

Elara giggled, pressing her breast more firmly against his arm. "If he yawns at that Nightshade boy, I’ll buy him a feather duster as thanks."

Ela Voss smiled to herself—small, fond.

"He’s funny," she whispered. "Like a children’s story come to life. I hope he’s kind when he measures."

Professor Elowen raised one elegant hand for silence.

"Enough chatter. Sir Lano, if you please—begin."

Ricor’s crystal flared bright blue.

"Ohhh, splendid! Let’s see, let’s see... who shall be first to bare their mana soul to Ricor De Lano?"

Ricor’s crystal pulsed lazily, scanning the lines with those empty, twinkling sockets. The hall had fallen into a tense, expectant hush after his cheerful introduction.

Then the vulture head suddenly swiveled—beak pointing like an accusing finger.

"You. With the earrings. Come here."

A ripple of whispers spread. Every head turned.

A noble boy—seventeen or eighteen, slim, dark-haired, silver hoop earrings glinting in each ear—froze in the noble line. His face drained of color. He looked left, right, then pointed at himself in disbelief.

"Me...?"

Ricor bobbed once. "Yes, you, pretty boy. Don’t make me repeat myself. Up you come."

The boy swallowed hard. His polished boots clicked uncertainly on the marble as he stepped out of line. The silence in the hall thickened; even the floating chandeliers seemed to dim slightly.

Professor Elowen Voss raised a graceful hand. "No need to worry, young lord. This is merely calibration. Show the academy your true blood."

Professor Mira Hale added gently, "Breathe. It won’t hurt. Just place your hand and let the crystal do its work."

The boy nodded jerkily, cheeks burning under everyone’s stares. He walked forward like he was approaching a guillotine, each step slower than the last. When he finally reached the platform, and met his carved gaze.

Ricor’s voice dropped to a surprisingly instructive, almost fatherly tone.

"Place your hand on my crystal, child."

The boy’s fingers trembled as he lifted his right palm. He hesitated one heartbeat—then pressed it flat against the moonlit-ice orb fused to the vulture’s scalp.

A soft blue glow bloomed under his skin.

Tiny streams of mana—pale and threadlike—rose from his palm like smoke, spiraling into the crystal. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, lips pressed tight.

The hall held its breath.

Then Ricor’s beak snapped open with a dramatic flourish.

"Good... Good... Quite a steady flow of mana. Expected of a noble!"

White light erupted around the boy, soft and enveloping, bathing him in a gentle halo. Not blinding—elegant. Controlled.

The boy’s eyes flew open. A relieved, boyish grin split his face. He pumped one fist in the air.

"Yes!"

Elowen shot Mira a smug, triumphant smirk. Mira simply smiled back—warm, unruffled.

Ricor’s beak opened again. A small, rectangular card slid out from between the stone teeth like a tongue. Gold trim, crisp black text, a faint school’s crest watermark shimmering across it.

The boy took it gingerly.

Ricor closed his beak with a satisfied click.

"That will be your ID card, child. It updates on its own to reflect your progression—mana, achievements, class rank, the works. Keep it close. Now off you go—next!"

The boy practically skipped back to his line, clutching the card like a trophy, showing it off to envious friends.

Ricor’s crystal pulsed again—faster now, eager.

"Next!"

One by one he called them.

Commoners first, it seemed—Ricor clearly enjoyed mixing things up.

A lanky commoner boy with freckles stepped up. Green light—soft, flickering. Low purity, modest capacity, Earth affinity.

Ricor sighed theatrically. "Adequate, dear. Room to grow. Next!"

A nervous commoner girl with braids. Green again—fainter.

"Sweet, but sleepy. More spice next time, poppet!"

The pattern held. Most commoners got green—dim, steady, unremarkable. A few managed pale blue—decent, but nothing special. The nobles in line exchanged knowing glances; Elowen’s smirk grew wider with every dim glow.

Then Ricor’s voice rang out brighter.

"Ela Voss!"

Ela stepped forward gracefully, lavender hair catching the chandelier light like spun moonlight. She didn’t hesitate—placed her palm on the crystal with quiet confidence.

The orb flared.

Black.

Not dark—absolute, velvet black, so deep it seemed to drink the surrounding light. Tiny silver motes danced inside like trapped stars.

Ricor’s beak dropped open in cartoonish shock.

"Too much potential...! By the gods—raw, untapped, screaming potential! Purity: 89%! Capacity: Vast—Tier S-approaching! But..."

He paused dramatically.

"...still below your ceiling, little one. You may never close the gap to true greatness without something... extraordinary. Tread carefully, child."

The hall erupted in murmurs.

Students stared at Ela with new eyes—respect, fear, envy. Even the commoners whispered. The Voss name carried weight, but this? This was different.

Ela simply bowed her head politely, took her black-bordered ID card, and returned to her place. She didn’t smile. She didn’t frown. Just... accepted it.

Elowen clapped slowly. "As expected of Voss blood."

Then Ricor’s crystal flared silver-white.

"Elara Voss!"

Elara glided forward, hips swaying with deliberate grace. Her long white hair shimmered like fresh snow under moonlight. She glanced back once—at Elarion—eyes gleaming with private fire.

*Dear Brother... watch me.*

She placed her palm on the crystal.

The orb sang.

Silver light—pure, blinding, almost liquid—exploded outward. It didn’t just glow; it flowed, wrapping around her like silk scarves made of moonlight. The entire hall seemed to dim for a heartbeat so she could shine brighter.

Ricor shrieked in delight.

"Magnificent! Purity: 91%! Capacity: Vast—Tier S! Strongest reading yet! Exquisite! Divine! You gorgeous creature—step down before I fall in love!"

The hall exploded.

Clapping—loud, genuine from commoners, restrained but impressed from nobles. Wide eyes everywhere. Whispers of "strongest yet" and "Voss perfection."

Even Aiden’s group leaned forward.

Luna whispered, "That’s... wow. Silver. She’s strong."

Thristle whistled low. "Damn. That light show? Cocky, but earned."

Nyxion’s tail flicked. "Pretty. Scary-pretty."

Lysandra nodded slowly. "Lineage power... beautiful, in a cold way."

Liana crossed her arms, smirking. "Strongest yet, huh? We’ll see."

Aiden just watched—calm, unreadable.

Elarion stood proud beyond words. His ice-blue eyes softened with pure, possessive affection as Elara walked back to him, card in hand, silver light still clinging faintly to her skin like frost.

She stopped in front of him, tilting her face up.

"Dear Brother... you saw that?"

He reached out, large hand settling gently on the crown of her head—petting her like something precious.

"I did." His voice was low, warm. "I knew you could."

Elara leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed, smiling like the sun had risen just for her. She pressed her cheek against his palm, nuzzling shamelessly.

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Ricor’s crystal pulsed.

"Elarion Voss!"

Elara’s fingers tightened around her brother’s hand for one heartbeat—hopeful, adoring.

*He looks so handsome...*

Elarion stepped forward—calm, predatory grace. Every line of his body radiated quiet certainty. He placed his palm on the crystal.

Gold.

Not yellow—true, molten imperial gold. It poured from the orb like liquid sunlight, bathing him head to toe, making his short white hair glow like a crown. The light didn’t flicker. It thrummed—steady, overwhelming, ancient.

Ricor’s beak fell open so wide it nearly cracked.

"By the gods... already imperial level! Purity: 92%! Capacity: Limitless—Tier S+! This... this is royalty-grade mana! You magnificent, terrifying boy—step down before the hall spontaneously kneels!"

The hall detonated.

Clapping—thunderous. Cheers from nobles, stunned applause from commoners. Students stared in open awe. Whispers of "imperial already" and "Voss supremacy" filled the air.

Elowen was on cloud nine. She clapped harder than anyone—proud aunt, proud professor—voice ringing out over the noise.

"Magnificent, Elarion! Proof of superior blood! The academy is honored!"

Elarion returned to Elara’s side. She immediately pressed against him, clutching his arm, eyes shining.

"You were perfect," she whispered.

He only smiled—small, proud, utterly possessive.

Ricor’s crystal dimmed for a moment—almost catching its breath.

Then it flared.

"Aiden Nightshade!"

The hall went dead silent.

Aiden stepped forward—calm, unhurried. His wives watched with hungry pride. Liana leaned forward, eyes gleaming. Even the Voss twins turned fully to look.

"Let’s dance."

He placed his palm on the crystal.

The orb screamed.

Colors—crimson dragonfire, molten gold, abyssal black, starlit violet, emerald beast-bond, sapphire spatial—cascaded in a storm. Sparks flew. The crystal vibrated so hard the entire vulture head trembled.

Ricor shrieked—half terror, half ecstasy.

"UNQUANTIFIABLE! Purity—off the scale! Capacity—LIMITLESS! Affinities—MULTIPLE! Beast Dominion primary—layered with Bond Resonance, Primal Fire, Void-Touched, Celestial Echo, Spatial Anchor—too many signatures! Dragon, wolf, monsters, demons! You beautiful, broken, god-touched commaner—step down before I shatter!"

Silence.

Then chaos.

Students gasped. Nobles recoiled. Commoners cheered wildly. Elowen’s smirk vanished—replaced by stunned fury. Mira’s eyes widened in quiet fascination.

*H-how... This can’t it. How? You commaner.* Elowen growled internally.

Mira was impressed beyond words.

Aiden walked back to his wives.

Luna kissed his cheek hard. "Master..."

Thristle whooped. "That’s our fucking King!"

Nyxion purred. "Heart Lord..."

Liana laughed—bright, dangerous. "You really leave up to your name, Child of Prophecy."

Elarion’s hand tightened around Elara’s.

Elara’s smile vanished.

Ela simply watched—amethyst eyes thoughtful.

Ricor was still babbling incoherently.

The academy would never be the same.

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END OF Chapter : 253 : RICOR DE LANO!

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