Chapter 776: Dual Personalities Not all the Kingdoms were open to alliances like the Vermilion Kingdom. The other Kingdoms in the Human Continent saw the new Beast Tamer class as a threat. The far west was large, but informants spread news like wildfire. It was roughly the same size as modern-day Europe and Asia combined, yet the kingdom’s spy network—despite being in a medieval era—was still top-notch. In the snowy regions of Snowhelm, where thick sheets of ice covered their seas and rivers, the Capital City bustled quietly. Inside the royal hall, the king—a tall man wearing military attire with five gleaming stars on his left chest—was silently smoking a pipe while watching the court proceedings. “My king, our spy has returned. It is indeed true—a new class has been Awakened,” the first man spoke in a slightly terrified voice. “New… tsk.” The king clicked his tongue, then gestured to the steward standing beside him with his head half-bowed. As if on cue, the steward retrieved a neatly folded parchment and handed it to him. Everyone in the room watched the parchment with curiosity in their gazes. It was tied with a silver-lined cord, a mark used only for documents of extreme importance. In Snowhelm, the Silver Cord Seal represented ancient, restricted knowledge. For the Silver Cord to be used on this parchment meant it was an ancient text kept hidden for years. With the parchment in his grasp, the king began, “The Beast Taming class… is not really a new class.” Gasp! Gasp! A series of sharp breaths rippled through the crowd, the eyes of the court members widening with pure disbelief. Most of these men were old and highly knowledgeable. There were many classes in Eos—some so rare that normal people had never heard of them—but these court members had mastered almost all known classes. And they could swear that the Beast Taming class wasn’t one of them. The king casually tossed the parchment toward the closest person. He caught it with quick reflexes and opened it a bit too fast. The more he read through the scribbled ancient text, the wider his eyes grew. “Due to certain reasons which we still don’t know,” the king continued with a serious expression, “the class was erased… and its awakening statue hidden from plain sight.” “What does this mean, Your Majesty?” someone asked. The king stroked his chin and seemed to look past the court members toward the windows. Outside, snow fell heavily, but the citizens of Snowhelm were long accustomed to the cold. After a moment of silence, his mouth parted slowly. “The class was erased for a reason…” Then, in a colder and slower tone, he added, “and that is exactly what will happen again.” He rose from his seat, and everyone straightened immediately. “The one who seems to be pioneering this new class is the king of the new Kingdom—Cromwell Kingdom—formerly a part of those greedy Vermilion bastards. I’ll send an envoy to warn them… and if they refuse, further actions will be taken.” … Imperia was a kingdom built on the backs of warriors. Before the rise of their current Monarch, the Imperian people were known across the Human Domain for a single thing—war. They weren’t just good at it; they lived for it. Because they were the smallest kingdom in the continent, many larger nations had tried to conquer them, but all had failed miserably. Generations of constant warfare had sharpened them into one of the strongest and most feared kingdoms among humans. Their armies moved like well-oiled machines, their generals were ruthless strategists, and their elite troops were said to rival Awakened elites. Unlike Vermilion—who tolerated alliances and new ideas—Imperia viewed anything unknown as a direct threat. Especially something like the sudden re-emergence of an ancient class. But apart from that… Imperia was known for one more thing. Despite being the strongest—and the smallest—Kingdom with only one main city, they were mostly made up of non-Awakened. Since they didn’t rely on traditional classes, one might think their power came from magic weapons and items, but this was far from the truth. Imperia was unique for something entirely different, something not many knew of. Farther away from Vermilion, Cromwell, Tristan, and Snowhelm—deep in the middle of the vast ocean that separated Aetherai and Valeria Kingdom—stood a small island adorned with Roman-style buildings and several fighting coliseums. Training grounds, weapon forges, and endless arenas made up the heart of the kingdom. — Imperia Coliseum — Present Thunderous cheers echoed across the main coliseum as two fighters clashed violently in the center of the arena. Their movements were strange. Unnatural. At first, they fought like disciplined warriors—controlled swings, sharp footwork. Then, without warning, their personalities seemed to snap. Their calm expressions twisted into wild, bestial grins as their fighting styles completely shifted—becoming unpredictable, faster, almost animal-like. When one personality grew tired, another seemed to replace it instantly. It wasn’t a technique. It wasn’t skill. It was dual temperament—a bizarre fighting pattern only the Imperians possessed and understood. “Switch! Switch!” someone in the crowd shouted. “Hahahaha! The second personality is even more fierce!” another laughed. While the fighting continued… On the highest balcony overlooking the arena, the Imperia Monarch sat on a stone throne. He looked different from every king on the continent. A tall, broad-shouldered man with jet-black hair streaked with metallic silver. His eyes glowed faintly crimson, as though a flame burned inside them, and a vertical scar ran across his right eye. His mere presence seemed to make the arena feel smaller. Beside him stood two youths—a boy and a girl—identical in face but opposite in aura. The sister had cold, steady eyes and a spear strapped across her back. The brother wore a calm smile and carried twin short swords. Merely looking into their eyes, one could tell they were not normal. Some time later, down in the arena, one of the fighters suddenly collapsed. The other stood over him, chest rising and falling rapidly—but a second later, the crazed expression faded. His face returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. The crowd erupted in cheers while the Monarch lifted a finger. BOOM. The victory gong sounded immediately, signaling the end of the match. The Monarch rose slightly from his seat—but before he could leave, a group of armored officials hurried up the stairs and bowed deeply. “My Lord!” “The spies have returned!” “Oh? How did it go?” the Monarch asked in a nonchalant voice. The leader of the officials swallowed hard. “It is true… the Beast Tamer class has reappeared.” — As you can see, I’m not dead… and I’m not planning to drop this book. I can take breaks, but I never drop! Don’t forget to support with your Golden Tickets and Power Stones! Castle gifts and Gachaphone are appreciated as well. Castle gifts spawn bonus chapters!