The Shamed Bastard Son Who Tamed a Forbidden Angel

Chapter 8: Entering the Secret Realm

"We're looking for someone with at least a Common-rank beast," a girl added, glancing at Rose with barely disguised disgust.

"You understand, right? We can't afford dead weight."

Harry nodded calmly and moved on. Rejection after rejection. But truthfully, he didn't mind. The fewer people who knew Rose's true power, the better.

"Well, well, well!"

John's voice carried across the plaza like a herald's trumpet. He strode forward with Seraphiel gliding beside him, flanked by five other students—all looking confident and well-equipped.

"I can't believe you actually showed up!" John laughed, spreading his arms theatrically. "I thought you were joking yesterday, but here you are! Like a cockroach that doesn't know it's already been stepped on!"

His team laughed dutifully. One of them—a tall boy with slicked-back hair—sneered at Rose.

"Is that seriously your beast? It looks like a malnourished child playing dress-up."

"Careful, Marcus," another boy said mockingly. "You might hurt its feelings. Oh wait—trash doesn't have feelings."

"She's probably already crying inside," a girl with an ice-element serpent added. "Wondering why she got stuck with the biggest loser in the city."

Rose's hand tightened on her hammer, but Harry placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Ignore them," he said quietly.

"Oh, he speaks!" John clapped slowly, mockingly. "Listen, Harry—former cousin—I'm actually doing you a favor by showing up. When I win first place with my team, it'll prove once and for all that you never belonged in the Klein family. You're a mistake. An error. A piece of garbage that should've been thrown out at birth."

"Are you finished?" Harry asked calmly.

John's smile widened. "Not even close. See my team? Thompson, Marcus, Sarah, Elena, and Victor? All top students. All with Common or Rare-rank beasts. Together, we're unstoppable. First place is guaranteed." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "And you? You'll be lucky to kill a single Level 1 slime before you're eliminated. Everyone's going to watch you fail. Again."

"We'll see," Harry said simply.

"Yes, we will." John straightened, addressing the crowd now. "Everyone hear that? Harry Klein—sorry, just Harry now—thinks he can compete! Place your bets on how long before he gets kicked out!"

Laughter rippled through the candidates. Several people actually started discussing odds.

"Attention!" A booming voice cut through the noise.

Professor Walsh stood atop the altar, his robes billowing in an unfelt wind. "The entrance examination will now begin! The rules are simple: You will be transported into the Secret Realm. Hunt magical beasts. Earn points based on their level. Level 1 beasts are worth 10 points. Level 2 are worth 30 points. Level 3 are worth 100 points. Level 4 are worth 300 points. Level 5 are worth 1000 points."

He paused, letting the numbers sink in.

"You have six hours. Teams are permitted. The top fifty scorers will earn admission to the Imperial Royal Beast Academy. Any questions?"

Silence.

"Then begin!"

Light exploded across the altar. Runes flared to life, and the world dissolved into brilliant whiteness. Harry felt the sensation of falling, spinning, being pulled through space itself—

Then solid ground appeared beneath his feet.

Harry blinked, his vision clearing. He stood in a forest—dense, primordial, with trees that stretched impossibly high. Strange bird calls echoed in the distance. The air hummed with wild magical energy.

He was alone.

"Rose?" Harry called softly.

"Here, Master." She appeared beside him, the Upper Realm Warhammer manifesting in her hands. Despite its size, she wielded it with perfect ease.

Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Alright. Let's—"

A growl cut him off.

Five pairs of red eyes emerged from the shadows. Demonic wolves—massive creatures with midnight-black fur and fangs like daggers. Their eyes glowed with malevolent intelligence, and saliva dripped from their snarling jaws.

[System Alert: Enemy Detected]

[Demonic Wolf × 5]

[Level: 3]

[Threat Assessment: MODERATE - Recommended retreat for Level 1 Beast Tamer]

Harry's heart hammered. Five Level 3 beasts at once. For a normal team, this would be a disaster. Level 1 beasts needed to hunt weaker prey first, building strength gradually. Encountering Level 3 enemies immediately was terrible luck.

The wolves began to circle, intelligent enough to coordinate their attack.

But Harry looked down at Rose and smiled.

"Ready?" he asked.

Rose's grip tightened on her hammer. Her violet eyes blazed with power. "Yes, Master."

"Then show them what trash really looks like."

Rose stepped forward, and the massive warhammer began to glow—light and darkness swirling around its surface in perfect harmony. She raised it high above her head, her small frame radiating divine power.

"Hammer of Judgment!" she cried.

She leapt.

The world seemed to slow. Rose soared through the air, impossibly high for someone her size. The hammer blazed with destructive energy, growing brighter and brighter until it was like a falling star.

She brought it down.

BOOM.

The impact created a shockwave that flattened trees for twenty feet in every direction. The ground cratered, stone and earth exploding outward. Three of the demonic wolves—caught directly in the blast radius—simply ceased to exist. They were pulverized, reduced to nothing but scattered particles.

The remaining two wolves, positioned farther away, were thrown backward. They slammed into trees with bone-breaking force, whimpering in pain. Their health was clearly depleted, but they still lived.

Rose landed gracefully, her hammer resting on her shoulder. She wasn't even breathing hard.

[System Alert: Combat Victory]

[Experience Gained: Demonic Wolf Level 3 × 3]

[Rose has leveled up! Level 1 → Level 2]

[Points Earned: 300]

Harry stared at the destruction, his mouth dry. The entire encounter had lasted less than ten seconds. Three Level 3 beasts—gone. Just... gone.

The two surviving wolves struggled to their feet, limping and bleeding. They took one look at Rose and bolted into the forest, yelping in terror.

Rose turned to Harry, tilting her head. "Master? Should I chase them?"

Harry couldn't speak. He could only nod numbly.

Rose smiled—a small, sweet expression that looked completely at odds with the devastation surrounding her—and sprinted after the fleeing wolves, her hammer trailing behind her like a comet's tail.

Alone in the clearing, Harry finally found his voice.

"John," he whispered to the empty air, "you have no idea what's coming for you."