I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 78: Second Stage

Jagged cracks ran across the floor, chunks of stone scattered like debris from a battlefield. The once-pristine training room had transformed into a rocky wasteland. The air was heavy, thick with tension—and gravity. Fifty times stronger than normal. Yet, Aamir and Seenu stood steady, their bodies adapted, sweatless, composed.

Across from them stood Haider Ali, arms crossed, his sharp gaze reading more than their posture.

"So," Haider finally spoke, voice calm but firm, "how was your meeting with the King?"

Aamir tilted his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad," he said, "I got a new technique."

Haider’s eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Oh? What kind?"

"A Rank A Adreno Arts technique. Vital Air Punch."

That made Haider raise an eyebrow. "Vital Air Punch? That’s a serious one. You’re lucky to be trusted with it."

Haider tilted his head slightly. "But do you know what makes that technique dangerous?"

Aamir raised an eyebrow. "The knockback?"

"No," Haider said, voice low. "It’s strikes not the body—but the flow. It disrupted enragy channels. Hit someone wrong with it, and thay won’t fight again for weeks. Or ever."

Aamir nodded. "Not just me. Seenu got one too."

Haider turned his attention to Seenu. "What’s yours?"

"Ten Slash Technique," Seenu said, his tone confident but humble. "Also Rank A."

Haider crossed his arms again. "Ten slash technique isn’t about strength. It’s about rhythm. One wrong beat, and the chain breaks."

Seenu’s eyes narrowed. "I’ve practiced it ones. Only managed six.

"That’s normal. Your core isn’t used to the recoil," Haider said. "But if you hit ten... you can cut through adreno armor like it’s paper."

Aamir glanced sideways. "Sounds flashy. Want to race to ten?"

Seenu chuckled. "Only if you promise not to collapse after five."

Haider nodded slowly, a rare look of approval in his eyes. "Good. These techniques will raise your combat level fast... but you only have ten days to make them second nature."

He stepped forward, the gravity barely shifting under his feet. "What I’m going to teach you isn’t just a technique. It’s a stage. A level in how you use adrenaline energy. The second stage."

The air shifted, almost responding to the weight of his words.

Aamir and Seenu exchanged a glance, then locked eyes back on Haider. Focused. Ready.

"In this stage," Haider explained, "you’ll learn to summon your adrenaline energy outside your body. Not just keep it inside like fuel—but shape it. Control it. Use it like a shield... or a weapon."

He paused. "But first, show me how much control you already have."

Without hesitation, both boys stepped forward. A shimmer of energy rippled across their skin—like an invisible force coating them in a faint glow. It looked like armor, flickering and raw.

Aamir spoke first. "We could summon it as a layer during our meeting with the King. It just... happened."

"Same with Raj, Kunal, and Meera," Seenu added. "All of us triggered it without thinking."

Haider smirked. "That’s called survival instinct. When the body senses death, it forces the energy to the surface. It’s not technique—it’s desperation. But it means your bodies already understand the feeling. That saves us time."

Seenu’s brow furrowed. "Sir, during the Vedangiri battle... Aamir did something else. He released his energy with a sword slash. It turned into a crescent wave. Cut the beast straight through."

Haider turned his full attention to Aamir. "You managed that?"

Aamir nodded. "Yeah. But I passed out right after. Couldn’t even lift my arms."

Haider folded his arms again. "Exactly what I expected. You’re leaking energy without control."

Haider’s tone sharpened. "You externalized your energy and gave it shape. Do you know what that means?"

Aamir frowned. "That I’m evolving?"

"No," Haider said. "That you’re unstable. You bypassed control and went straight to projection. It’s like throwing a sword without learning how to hold it."

Seenu added, "But the result was powerful."

Haider gave a short nod. "Yes. But power without form is a double-edged blade. You’re just as likely to slice yourself."

He took a slow step, then raised three fingers.

"When you use it as armor, it sticks close. Costs little. But when you throw it—like your slash—it burns through your core like wildfire. That’s why you collapsed. You need to master this in steps."

His fingers folded one by one as he spoke:

"Step One – Control the energy. You’re already halfway there.

Step Two – Control the output. How much you release, how far, how fast.

Step Three – Focus it on specific body parts instead of the whole body. That way, you conserve energy and increase precision."

The room fell silent. Aamir and Seenu stood still, absorbing every word.

"Most people never go beyond the first stage. Even if thay are high level fighters." Haider said. "They use adrenaline enargy like brute fuel—strong, but crude. What we’re doing here... is mastery. You’ll not just be warriors. You’ll be artists of combat. Precision, discipline, control—that’s what separates a savage from a soldier."

His voice dropped lower. "And once you step into the third stage, your energy won’t just follow your will. It will become your will."

Haider finished, "Once you handle that, we’ll move to true manipulation—shaping your energy mid-fight, launching it without waste."

Seenu peeked one eye open and grinned. "First one to form a stable field wins."

Aamir didn’t respond. His face was like stone. Focused.

"I’ll take that as a yes," Seenu muttered, chuckling softly.

The energy around them crackled—gold around Aamir, silver-blue around Seenu. Different flows, different frequencies. But both fierce.

In the corner, Haider watched without a word. They’ll need more than talent where they’re going...

Without waiting for another command, Aamir and Seenu sat cross-legged on the broken stone floor. Eyes shut. Breathing slowed. Their bodies relaxed, but the air around them shimmered as adrenaline energy began to stir beneath their skin.

Aamir’s chest rose and fell. The energy flowed like a second pulse, responding to his focus. A faint golden outline wrapped around his body—unstable, but real.

Beside Aamir, Seenu’s energy pulsed to life—cool, calm, and fluid. A silver-blue shimmer laced his skin, rippling like moonlight over water. Unlike Aamir’s radiant, fiery glow, Seenu’s energy felt precise—like a scalpel compared to a hammer.

The second stage had begun.

in the Cultivation Hall...

Stone pillars surrounded the vast chamber, their tops lost in the dark ceiling above. Candles flickered along the walls, casting golden light over the polished floor. The hum of ancient energy vibrated through the space.

Raj stood in the center, holding a thick book bound in black leather. Golden runes glowed faintly on its cover—his Rank A technique.

Across from him, Dharam stepped into the light. His stance relaxed, but his eyes were razor sharp.

"It’s a good technique," Dharam said, nodding toward the book, "but that’s not what you need most."

Raj frowned. "It’s not?"

"You’ve got raw power, Raj. Brute strength. But what you lack is precision. And I’ve watched you fight—you have sharp instincts, quick reads. That tells me your mind is your real weapon."

Dharam circled him slowly, like a teacher eyeing a prized student. "Instead of another strike-heavy technique, I’ll train you differently. I’ll teach you how to fight without using your full strength. With strategy."

Raj tilted his head. "How?"

Dharam stopped behind him. "Pressure points."

He tapped his own collarbone. "There are places on the body... vulnerable spots. Hit the right one, and even a monster will fall. Some strikes can paralyze. Others cause pain beyond tolerance. A few... can kill."

Raj’s fingers tightened around the book.

"You’ll learn where they are," Dharam continued. "And more importantly—how to protect your own. Because offense without defense is a fool’s game."

He stepped forward and pointed to Raj’s right shoulder. "Hit here with the right force and angle, and the arm goes limp for ten minutes. Doesn’t matter how strong your opponent is."

Raj’s lips curled into a grin. "Sounds dangerous."

"It is," Dharam replied. "And that’s why you’re going to learn it. No more wasted energy. Every move must count."

Dharam’s expression darkened. "The last person I trained in this... lost control. Used it in a friendly match and crushed someone’s spine."

Raj’s grin faded.

"That’s why I hesitated. But I’ve seen how you hold back. That control? That’s your edge."

Raj nodded slowly. "I won’t disappoint you."

"I know," Dharam said. "But if you do—don’t expect mercy."

Raj squared his stance, eyes gleaming. "Understood. Let’s do it."

Dharam smirked. "Don’t get excited. The fun part comes later."

He cracked his knuckles.

"Right now? Pain. Lots of it."

Raj cracked his neck, lowering the book to the floor.

"Then let’s begin. I didn’t come this far to hold back."

Dharam’s eyes glinted. "Good. Because the pain teaches faster than praise."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the university...

Riya stood panting, her chest rising and falling with frustration. The training field around her was charred and scarred from repeated attempts. She held her wand tightly, its surface still warm to the touch. The spell the King had entrusted her with—one of divine fire—refused to obey.

"I can’t fail again," she whispered to herself.

She closed her eyes.

A flash of memory surged forward—Vedangiri. The battlefield, the blood. Monarch-class beasts towered before them, and she had stood frozen. Powerless.

While Aamir had charged ahead, fearless.

I was just watching, she remembered bitterly. I won’t be left behind again. Not this time.

Her grip tightened.

"I want to fight by your side, Aamir. I won’t just watch from the sidelines anymore."

She raised her wand high. Her voice rang out, clear and unwavering:

"By the blessings of the goddess of fire—Agni—I command the flames to obey me! I hereby summon... the Flame Dragon’s Wrath!"

The air shuddered.

Flames sparked along the wand, then spiraled around her like a living storm. A roar echoed—not from her, but from the inferno itself—as a colossal burst of fire exploded from the wand’s tip. It twisted, formed scales, wings, a long neck.

A fire dragon.

It ripped through the air with a deafening screech, collided with its target—and detonated. The resulting shockwave flattened the terrain, sending a heatwave across the entire field.

Riya stared, breathless. Her lips parted. "I... did it."

Then everything went dark.

Before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her mid-fall. A proud, beautiful woman stood there, eyes glowing with fire-like resolve.

It was none other than Kaveri Mahadevan, Guild Leader of Prakriti Sangh.

"You’ve got heart," Kaveri said softly. "Now let’s shape it into strength."

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