Dominion of The Beast Masters

Chapter 212: Tournament of Clowns



The late afternoon sun bathed Genova's arena in a soft golden glow. While the arena wasn't the largest in the discipline, it was packed to the brim.

Not a single seat was empty. The excitement was tangible, buzzing in the air like an electric current.

The crowd was a mix of locals and spectators who had traveled far and wide for this global event.

Media crews scrambled for the best angles, their cameras sweeping over the massive audience.

This wasn't just a regional tournament, it was history in the making.

Tamara, Kallistra, Infinite Twilight and Golden Cosmos were present, all the big names gathered for a climactic event.

On stage, the academy's teachers stood rigidly beside the director.

Among them was Rowan, calm and composed as always. He scanned the crowd, looking for Eratz's face in the sea of faces.

Eratz watched him carefully. Rowan's stoic demeanor hid a subtle stiffness in his posture. The atmosphere shifted when the rules of the tournament were announced.

"For this event, each contender will face a student from Genova Academy. The competitor with the most victories will face our champion, Kian Pandora, in the final match."

A suffocating silence fell over the arena, as though the air had been sucked out of it. Then, a single shout broke the quiet.

"What?!"

The crowd erupted. Boos started as scattered grumbles, but they quickly grew into a deafening chorus of rage. The disappointment was palpable.

"This is a joke!" someone yelled.

"We didn't come here for this!" shouted another.

People were furious. They had come to see legends clash, to witness history, not to watch seasoned fighters humiliate inexperienced students.

Agencies began pulling their fighters.

"This is ridiculous," muttered a scout from a smaller agency. "Our rookies trained for real competition, not this farce."

In the Golden Cosmos section, Zara let out a long sigh and turned to her team, her expression a mix of disappointment and exhaustion.

"Well? Does anyone feel like wasting their time here?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint ofn/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

sarcasm.

Kaida leaned back in her seat, arms crossed.

"Fat chance. I've got some self-respect. I'm out."

Eratz shook his head.

"I didn't get beat down by Victoria just to waste my energy on this. Count me out too."

Even Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something under her breath. The absurdity of the situation was testing even her patience.

Zara clapped her hands together in mock enthusiasm.

"If none of our aces participate, Golden Cosmos has no reason to stay around. And guess what? That means goodbye to our vacation plans. So... are you sure there's no volunteer? Come on, sacrificial lambs, step up!"

The group grumbled in response, none of them willing to give in.

Amid the tension, Colin and Milo exchanged a look. Milo stood up, puffing his chest.

"I... I was born... to be a sacrifice," he said.

Mercury, seated beside him, immediately cut in, her tone firm.

"No. Not a sacrifice."

Milo kept his posture, blinking, then puffed out his chest even more.

"I... I often dream... of electric lambs."

Colin, sitting quietly by his side, nodded.

"I'll do it too," she said softly.

Their decision brought a brief moment of calm, the other aces giving small nods, and back pats, acknowledging their sacrifice.

But while Golden Cosmos found a temporary resolution, the arena around them was descending further into chaos.

The boos turned into a thunderous roar, a deafening symphony of discontent that rattled the arena walls.

Back on the battleground, chaos reigned. The director stood at the center, unfazed by the storm she had unleashed. Teachers rushed to her, their faces pale with panic.

"This is humiliating!" one teacher cried, gripping the edge of her clipboard.

"You're throwing the academy's name into a void!" another added, their voice breaking with frustration.

But the director remained unmoved, brushing off their concerns with a wave of her hand. "This is perfect," she said confidently, her voice dripping with arrogance. "Our students will fight lower opponents, and their victories will dominate the media. This plan is flawless."

The teachers exchanged horrified glances. Their desperation deepened as they watched agencies continue to withdraw their participants, each departure a dagger to the academy's reputation.

Some of the younger staff began pacing, murmuring frantic suggestions, but the director ignored them all.

Rowan, standing silently to the side, finally lifted his gaze. His glare, cold and sharp, cut through the noise, meeting the director's smug expression.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze under the weight of his stare. But Rowan said nothing. The director only shrugged, turning her back to him.

She surveyed the arena with a satisfied smile.

"A total win," she declared, as if speaking to herself.

However, her delusion was shattered by a voice, sharp and mocking, cutting through the air

like a blade.

"As expected from such a joke of an academy."

The director spun around, her confidence evaporating as her eyes landed on the speaker.

Eliza stood right behind her, her arms crossed, a sly grin playing on her lips.

The teachers flinched, their panic replaced by an almost audible tension. The director's expression twisted with anger.

"Eliza," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "What are you doing here?"

Eliza waved a hand dismissively, her smile widening.

"Relax, hag," she said, her tone dripping with false reassurance. "I'm not here to make a

speech. You're already doing enough by yourself. I'm just here to register our challengers."

The director's confidence cracked as Eliza stepped forward, handing over a roster. The list bore the unmistakable seal of Infinite Twilight.

Eight city-ranked beast masters and one ace: Iris. The director's face paled as she scanned the

names.

"What's wrong?" Eliza asked, her voice light and mocking. "Is this not what you wanted?"

The director opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Her composure faltered completely, leaving her frozen in place.

Without waiting for a response, Eliza turned on her heel, walking away with deliberate calm.

Her smirk lingered long after she disappeared from sight, leaving the director to stew in her

growing panic.

The battles began, and Genova Academy's downfall turned into a public execution.

Match after match, their students fell, each one defeated, and when facing a member of

infinite twilight, in a single attack.

The second years and a handful of first years managed to summon their beasts, but it didn't

matter.

Their techniques were sloppy, their movements predictable, their beasts, either an elemental spirit or a ridiculous beast.

Even the least experienced rookies looked like seasoned professionals compared to Genova's

students.

Milo stepped onto the field for his match. The crowd murmured, expecting at least a hint of a

good show.

Instead, Milo ended the battle in one swift move, not even summoning his beast.

Colin followed, and the result was the same. Another one-shot. Another embarrassment.

By the eleventh match, the initial laughter had vanished. The crowd had grown silent. It wasn't entertaining anymore, it was painful to watch.

"What kind of academy is this?" a spectator muttered, breaking the silence. "Even rookies are

leagues ahead of them."

The murmurs grew louder, filled with disbelief and scorn. Genova Academy wasn't just losing,

they were being humiliated.

The tournament, once a spectacle of skill and competition, had become a joke. And that joke

felt more like a funeral.

On this day, the world gathered to assist to a funerals of an academy.

It was a unique case among academies, one fueled by years of bad decisions.

Putting Kian in the final round without allowing him to prove his worth earlier was one of

them.

Lila, the sole Genova student to advance, had barely scraped through her match against an

agency rookie.

Genova Academy had gone from a respected institution to a global punchline.

Genova's reputation was in freefall.

On social media, hashtags like #GenovaFails and #AcademyJoke dominated the trending lists.

Memes flooded every corner of the internet, mocking students, ridiculing the faculty, and

tearing apart the academy's image.

The crowd's jeers had become a symbol of Genova's failure, their laughter echoing far beyond

the arena.