I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 218: Friendly Spar

The square had emptied in seconds.

Workers, soldiers, even guards who had been carrying crates dropped what they held and backed far away. No one wanted to be caught in the storm that was about to form.

Six figures stood in the center—old friends, warriors, legends.

To them, this was a spar.

To anyone else, it was a death zone.

Seenu was the first to move. His rusty-looking katana hummed with faint flames, the blade trembling as if hungry. His sharp eyes locked onto Aamir.

"I’ve been waiting five years to see if you’ve gone soft," he said with a faint grin.

Aamir cracked his neck, crimson aura rippling faintly around him. The peach-golden radiance of Solaris Vitalis burned in his veins, calm yet dangerous. He smirked. "You’ll regret asking."

Steel blurred.

Seenu’s katana sliced down in a flaming arc. Aamir raised his arm, catching the blade on his forearm. Sparks erupted like fireworks. The ground cracked beneath their feet.

A moment’s stalemate—then both pushed away, grinning.

Raj stomped forward. His body swelled with raw strength, veins glowing faintly as his energy surged. His eyes glimmered, scanning Aamir’s stance like a hawk.

"Don’t forget me," Raj rumbled. "I can see every weak spot on your body. Let’s test if you’ve got any left."

He lunged. His fist cut the air like a cannon.

Aamir sidestepped, but Raj’s hand shifted mid-strike, changing angle with impossible precision—straight toward an acupressure point near his ribs.

Aamir grinned, twisting his body just in time to avoid it. "Still reading pressure points, huh? Some things never change."

Raj smirked. "And some things get better."

Kunal adjusted his glasses, his eyes glowing faintly with Neerakshetra. The air seemed to ripple as four illusions of him appeared, each moving in sync.

"I call this warming up," Kunal said casually. His golden irises burned. "Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it."

In the next instant, he was everywhere—above, behind, to the side. His eyes bent reality itself, predicting movements, twisting perceptions. Even Seenu paused, impressed.

"You’re still a show-off," Raj muttered, swinging at one of the illusions. His fist tore through empty air.

The real Kunal smirked. "Takes one to notice."

Riya raised her staff, emerald eyes glowing. Her voice was calm, melodic—but her power shook the square.

Symbols flared in the air around her, glowing with every element at once—fire, water, earth, wind, lightning. The ground itself seemed to answer her call.

"Are you all done showing off?" she asked softly. "Because if you are, I’d like to begin."

She lifted her staff—and a rain of flaming arrows, shards of ice, blades of wind, and bolts of lightning crashed down from above.

The others scattered, laughing.

"Still infinite mana, huh?" Kunal shouted, darting away.

Riya smirked faintly. "Of course. Did you expect less?" 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Meera moved like a shadow among the chaos. Her twin daggers gleamed faintly, every step a dance, every slash leaving afterimages that twisted the eye.

While Raj and Seenu launched heavy strikes, and Aamir matched their strength with calm deflections, Meera slipped between them like water.

Her blade tapped Raj’s shoulder lightly—enough to draw a line of heat, not blood.

"You’re wide open," she teased, spinning away before his fist could reach her.

Raj growled, half amused, half annoyed. "Still slippery as ever!"

Her laughter rang clear.

The square became a battlefield of chaos and brilliance.

Aamir’s energy flared, every strike carrying the balanced might of Solaris Vitalis. His punches cracked stone, his kicks split air, yet he never lost the calm rhythm of his breathing.

Seenu’s katana burned brighter, his flame arcs painting streaks in the dark sky. Each swing forced Aamir to move, each clash sent sparks showering.

Raj’s brute force shook the ground, every stomp sending shockwaves that forced others to adjust. His pressure-point strikes came close, too close, but Aamir and Kunal kept slipping away just in time.

Kunal’s illusions multiplied, bending the fight itself. One moment he was in front of Aamir, the next he was behind Seenu. His Neerakshetra eyes shone, his voice carrying everywhere at once.

Meera danced through them all, untouchable. Her daggers kissed the air, her movements impossible to track. She left light cuts on Raj, flicks on Seenu, even brushing past Aamir before slipping back into the shadows.

And Riya—Riya was the storm above them all. Spells rained, shields flared, bursts of fire and ice coated the ground. She stood in the center, staff raised, her infinite mana painting the sky in colors of war.

To the soldiers watching from the walls, it wasn’t a spar.

It was an apocalypse.

The ground split, the air screamed, flames and lightning lit the night. Every strike could have killed dozens if aimed outside.

But to the six inside the storm—it was laughter, challenge, old bonds reignited.

Raj roared as Aamir deflected his punch.

Kunal taunted Seenu for being too serious.

Meera danced past them all, giggling.

Riya’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp but fond.

And Aamir—Aamir’s chest tightened, not with pain, but with something else. For the first time in years, he felt whole.

The clash went on, each friend pushing, pulling, testing. None aimed to win. None aimed to dominate.

They only wanted to feel this again.

The bond.

The fire.

The life they had before everything broke.

Finally, Aamir and Seenu’s blades clashed one last time. The shockwave blasted dust into the air, shaking the entire base.

The six of them froze, panting, grinning.

Riya lowered her staff, smiling faintly. "Enough for tonight."

Raj laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Yeah. If we keep this up, the base will collapse before the wedding."

Kunal pushed his glasses up, smirking. "And I’ll be the one blamed."

Meera spun her daggers once before sheathing them. "Then be glad I held back."

Aamir looked around at all of them, his chest heaving. His lips curved faintly.

"Five years apart. And still... this feels the same."

Seenu smirked, resting his sword on his shoulder. "No. Stronger."

The six of them stood there, sweat and laughter mixing with the night air, their bond unshaken.

And for the first time since Aamir’s return, the base didn’t feel like a place of grief or war.

It felt like home.

The square was still buzzing with whispers long after the spar ended. Soldiers who had watched from the edges couldn’t believe their eyes. For them, it hadn’t been a friendly duel—it had been like watching natural disasters collide.

Aamir wiped the sweat from his brow, his crimson aura dimming to nothing. Across from him, Seenu sheathed his katana, his usual calm expression back in place. Raj cracked his neck, grinning despite the bruises, while Kunal adjusted his glasses like nothing had happened.

Meera sighed, daggers twirling back into their sheathes. "Idiots. If you broke the decorations, I’d have killed you myself."

Riya folded her arms, her emerald eyes sharp. "Next time, do it outside the base. I don’t want the roof caving in because you all got bored."

Aamir chuckled, glancing at her. "We’ll keep that in mind."

The tension faded, replaced by laughter. For once, it felt normal. Like five years hadn’t passed at all.

By morning, the base was alive with color.

Carpets of crimson and gold were rolled across the stone floors. Banners fluttered in the wind, painted with the crest of the Shekhawat family. Lanterns hung from ropes overhead, glowing softly even in the daylight.

Carts arrived one after another, stacked high with supplies—flowers, jewelry, silks, and food. The entire stronghold seemed to breathe differently. For once, it wasn’t the sound of swords clashing or monsters howling. It was music, laughter, chatter.

Aamir walked through the courtyard, hands tucked behind his back. Riya matched his pace, her staff tapping lightly on the ground. Behind them, Raj barked orders like a general on the battlefield—but this time, his soldiers carried garlands instead of weapons.

"Careful with those frames!" Raj shouted. "If one of them cracks before the ceremony, I’ll have your heads!"

Kunal smirked, leaning lazily against a pillar. "Relax, General. It’s a wedding, not a siege. Nobody’s dying if a flower pot breaks."

Raj shot him a glare. "Say that when Meera strangles you with the garlands for ruining her day."

Meera, who was inspecting jewelry on a table, lifted a dagger without even looking. "Keep talking, Raj, and I’ll strangle you first."

Everyone laughed.

Aamir stopped near a group of workers arranging long tables for the feast. He watched silently as children darted around, carrying baskets of flowers bigger than themselves. One boy stumbled, nearly dropping his load—Aamir moved before he even thought, steadying the child with a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy there," Aamir said gently. "Don’t run too fast."

The boy blinked up at him, eyes wide with awe. "Y-You’re the Beastlord!"

Aamir froze. He hated the title. But when he saw the boy’s smile, he softened. "No. I’m just Aamir. Now go—before the flowers wilt."

The boy nodded quickly and ran off.

Riya watched from the side, a small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes spoke volumes.

By noon, the preparations became chaotic.

Raj argued with decorators over the arrangement of the stage.

Meera tested every piece of jewelry twice, terrifying the merchants.

Kunal "helped" by sitting with Ji-Won, tossing sarcastic comments at everyone.

Seenu silently carved symbols into the stone pillars, strengthening them with protective runes.

Aamir found himself... helping.

He lifted crates too heavy for three men. He repaired a broken frame with a single touch of his Solaris energy. He even stood still while children climbed on him, using him as a ladder to hang garlands too high for their reach.

Everywhere he walked, whispers followed. Soldiers bowed. Civilians stopped to stare. To them, his presence was almost holy.

But to his friends—he was just Aamir again.

At one point, Raj stormed into the square, his voice booming. "Where the hell is the wine?! Someone said the shipment’s delayed!"

Kunal raised a brow. "What are you panicking for? Afraid the guests won’t survive without it?"

Raj jabbed a finger at him. "If my wedding doesn’t have proper wine, I swear—"

Meera cut him off with a sharp look. "Finish that threat, and I’ll cancel this wedding myself."

The entire square erupted in laughter. Raj groaned, rubbing his face.

Even Aamir cracked a smile. "You’re more stressed about this than fighting a dragon."

Raj muttered, "At least the dragon didn’t argue over flower colors."

As the day wound on, the decorations transformed the fortress.

Silks draped the walls, flowers lined the walkways, lanterns hung like stars waiting for nightfall. The grim stone of Base One no longer looked like a stronghold—it looked like the heart of a celebration.

Aamir stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching it all. Riya came to his side, her voice soft.

"It feels strange, doesn’t it? To see joy here."

He nodded slowly. "Strange. But good. Maybe we needed this more than we realized."

Her gaze lingered on him. "And maybe you needed it most of all."

Aamir didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on the banners fluttering above, but a faint smile touched his lips.

By evening, the friends gathered at the center of the courtyard. The workers stepped back, admiring their progress.

The six of them—Aamir, Raj, Kunal, Seenu, Riya, and Meera—stood together, just watching.

Raj crossed his arms, finally allowing himself a small grin. "It’s coming together."

Meera elbowed him lightly. "It better. Or I’ll walk away before the vows."

Kunal adjusted his glasses, smirking. "Don’t tempt him. He might faint first."

Raj scowled. "Shut up."

Seenu’s lips curved faintly. "If he faints, I’ll drag him back to the altar myself."

Everyone laughed again. The sound carried across the courtyard, mingling with the crackle of lanterns and the hum of workers finishing their tasks.

For once, there was no battle. No blood. No fear.

Just friends, standing side by side.

And for Aamir, watching them, it felt like the beginning of something worth protecting.