I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 102: War Declaration!

[DING!]

Congratulations! You have become a Hybrid.

New Form Unlocked: [Chimera]

You have successfully merged the traits of the beasts you have defeated. You can now transform your entire body—or parts of it—into a beast-like state for a limited time.

Form: Chimera

Duration: 5 Minutes

Traits Gained:

— [Thunderwolf’s Speed]

— [Shadow Panther’s Stealth]

— [Thronefiend’s Roar]

— [Phoenix’s Regeneration]

— [Serpent’s Flexibility]

...and more

Aamir stared at his system screen, eyes wide in disbelief.

"No way... is this real?"

Luman’s voice boomed in his head, calm and powerful.

"Yes, it is. And this... is only the beginning."

But before Aamir could even process the change, an explosion of movement caught his attention. In the Contestants’ Zone, four masked assassins launched a surprise attack on two students from Aryavrata.

Meanwhile...

Haider Ali stood face-to-face with the Assassin Leader in another part of the stadium.

"I’ll give you one last chance," Haider said coldly. "Tell me who hired you, and I might let you live."

The Assassin Leader sneered. "That’s not gonna happen."

In an instant, he lunged forward.

Back in the Contestants’ Zone—

Aamir’s eyes locked onto the chaos. The assassins had cornered two Aryavrata students. Without hesitation, Aamir vanished in a blur.

CRACK!

One assassin was sent flying as Aamir’s fist crashed into his chest. The sheer force shattered the man’s ribcage, killing him instantly. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

Aamir gasped. "Oh no... I killed him?"

Before he could spiral into doubt, Haider Ali’s voice echoed throughout the entire stadium like thunder:

"Listen, students of Aryavrata! This is a full-fledged attack on us.

Do not hold back. Do not hesitate. Kill if you must!"

Aamir looked up, his doubts clearing. His eyes narrowed, his stance firm.

"Understood, Haider-sir," he muttered.

Aamir glanced at the chaos and then at his system screen.

"Luman, should I use the Chimera Form now?"

Luman’s calm voice echoed in his mind.

"I don’t think you should. Your physical stats have already skyrocketed after becoming a Hybrid. Save the Chimera Form for when you truly need it—as your last resort."

Aamir nodded. "Alright. I’ll handle this the old-fashioned way."

Without activating Chimera, Aamir lunged forward. In a matter of seconds, he had defeated the remaining three assassins with overwhelming precision and raw power. His movements were like lightning—controlled, lethal, unstoppable.

The Aryavrata students behind him stared in awe, speechless.

As the last assassin collapsed unconscious, Aamir tilted his head and muttered, "Wait... I have Phoenix’s regeneration? But I’ve never killed a Phoenix."

Luman interrupted, amused.

"You didn’t need to. You own a Phoenix, don’t you? Conquering a beast and forming a bond also grants access to its traits."

Aamir smirked. "Right. No more questions then."

Meanwhile...

Haider Ali and the Assassin Leader clashed in the heart of the battlefield. The leader’s punch met Haider’s palm—and stopped cold.

"Hmph. You’ve got strength," Haider muttered, his tone calm and cutting. "But this... is already over."

The leader laughed, blood on his lip. "Oh? And why do you think that?"

Haider took a step back, his hand moving to the sword at his waist.

"Because," he said as he slowly drew the blade, "you are already defeated."

The moment the sword was unsheathed, the entire stadium trembled. A suffocating pressure swept over the arena like a divine storm. Kings and Queens in the observation room rose from their seats in shock—except for King Veerendra, who remained calm.

King Louise gasped. "He’s... He’s reached that level?"

Veerendra nodded. "Yes. He has."

In the center of the battlefield, Haider raised his blade.

"Zulfiqar’s Judgement."

With a single, vertical slash, a golden, twin-headed arc of energy erupted from his sword—blinding, divine, absolute.

SLASH!

In the blink of an eye, the Assassin Leader’s body split in two and collapsed.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

Haider Ali sheathed his blade slowly, his eyes scanning the stunned crowd.

"Let this be a warning," he said calmly, "Aryavrata does not bow to shadows."

The stadium stood frozen.

Aamir stood amidst the battlefield, cracking his knuckles after dispatching the last assassin like it was routine. Nearby, Seenu’s flames danced wildly as he incinerated his foes with a single slash. Kunal moved like a phantom—so swift and silent that the assassins never even saw their deaths coming.

All across the arena, Aryavrata’s students and teachers had overwhelmed the wave of enemies. What was meant to be an ambush turned into a massacre—for the assassins.

The crowd roared in awe and disbelief.

But not everyone was cheering.

In the observation room, Ivanka’s expression darkened. Her jaw clenched, and her nails dug into her armrest. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Back on the battlefield, Haider Ali raised his hand, calling for silence. His voice boomed across the stadium through the magical announcement system.

"This isn’t over yet."

The cheers died instantly.

The air grew heavier.

Haider reached into his dimensional bag and pulled out the lifeless corpse of a masked assassin. He held the body by the collar and turned to face the observation platform.

"This man... spoke before he died. He told me who ordered this attack."

Gasps rippled through the stadium like a shockwave.

The kings and queens leaned forward.

Whispers spread through the crowd—then silence.

Everyone waited for the name that would shake the foundations of power.

Here’s the powerful continuation, capturing the drama and political weight of Haider’s revelation, Ivanka’s arrogance, and King Veerendra’s fierce retaliation:

A deadly silence settled over the entire stadium.

Everyone stared at Haider Ali, heartbeats loud in their ears. The corpse dangled from his grip, and with eyes like steel, he spoke the name.

"It was... Queen Ivanka of Calonia."

Gasps erupted.

Shock surged through the crowd, louder than any roar of battle.

The camera crystals floating in the air zoomed in on the observation room—on Queen Ivanka.

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she stood up slowly, lifting her chin with icy pride, her eyes gleaming with superiority. Draped in her crimson royal gown, she looked down upon the stadium like a goddess among mortals.

"And what of it?" she said, her voice magically amplified across the field. "Do you peasants truly think I fear your outrage?"

Even now, when all eyes were on her, Ivanka smirked—unshaken, even smug.

"I did what was necessary. Aryavrata’s brats were becoming too arrogant. It was time someone humbled them."

As Queen Ivanka stood, her crimson royal cloak billowing behind her like a curtain of blood, a sudden stillness consumed the stadium.

Then—

BOOM.

A pulse of pure energy exploded from her body. Invisible, but undeniable.

The sky outside darkened instantly, clouds churning in unnatural spirals. Wind screamed through the arena, bending flags and ripping paper from spectators’ hands. Even the protective barrier around the stadium flickered for a split second.

"W-What is this pressure...?" someone whispered, their voice trembling.

Haider Ali’s grip tightened on his sword, his sharp eyes focused. Even he couldn’t ignore the shift in the air.

Aamir instinctively stepped forward, muscles tensing. Seenu froze mid-step. Kunal’s expression shifted from blank to deadly serious.

"This aura..." Aamir muttered.

Luman’s voice whispered in his mind, unusually grave:

"Be careful, Aamir. She... she’s not at the Soul Ascension Realm anymore. That woman has stepped beyond... into the World Breaker Realm."

All color drained from Aamir’s face.

And he wasn’t alone.

Inside the observation room, rulers and warlords—some of the most powerful beings in the world—stared at Ivanka in silent dread. They had sensed it too.

That suffocating pressure...

A Limit Breaker.

A level so rare, only a handful across the entire continent had reached it in the last thousand years.

A level where a single strike... could destroy entire cities.

A level where no army, no fortress, and no fleet could guarantee safety.

A level that made nations fall.

Ivanka smiled—slowly, cruelly—as she watched their faces turn pale.

"I see you all understand now," she said, her voice coated in venomous pride.

"You thought Aryavrata was untouchable. You thought your little heroes were safe behind kings and oaths."

Her eyes glowed blood red.

"But I am Ivanka, the Crimson Thorn of Calonia. And I do not ask for permission. I take what I want."

In the stands, some weaker spectators fainted under the sheer pressure. Even veterans found their knees shaking.

Ivanka’s smirk faded slightly.

Veerendra’s voice cut through the air like thunder:

"This war will not be fought with words. You wanted blood, so now you’ll drown in it."

But one man didn’t budge.

King Veerendra rose from his seat, calm and composed. He looked at Ivanka like one would look at a dangerous animal, then turned to the crowd, his voice like a war drum:

"So you admit to ordering the attack. You targeted innocent students from Aryavrata. This is not just a crime—this is a declaration of war."

The stadium erupted in chaos.

But Veerendra raised his hand again, and silence followed.

"Hear this, Queen Ivanka. From this moment forward, Aryavrata and the United Federation of Allied Nations stand in open war against Calonia."

"You dared to touch our children. Now we will burn your arrogance to the ground."

Ivanka’s eyes narrowed, her smile gone.

"You’ll regret this, Veerendra. Your people will beg for mercy when I’m done."

"Then come," Veerendra said. "And learn the true meaning of wrath."

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