This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Vauleth’s roars finally subsided.

The red dragon collapsed against the ground of the System Lab with a deep, rattling exhale. His claws twitched once. Then again. And slowly, the tremors that had wracked his form lessened. The molten veins of spiritual light that had danced across his scales dimmed, and his breathing evened out.

Kain approached him cautiously, careful not to touch anything glowing or scorching hot. “You alive?” he asked dryly.

A low rumble answered. Vauleth’s tail flicked in lazy irritation.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Kain crouched beside him, hand resting lightly on the warm curve of his wing. The temperature was still rising and falling unpredictably—bloodline refinements were messy—but it felt like the worst had passed.

He brought up the System window and navigated to Vauleth’s updated profile:

——————

Nickname: Vauleth

Species: Red Coloured Dragon ([Retrovirant)

The Red-Coloured Dragons, also known as the Crimson Tyrants[…]

Quality: Sub-Diamond (Special)

Note 1: Quality is derived from absorbed genetic material by Retrovirant mechanisms.

Note 2: Quality is undergoing continuous refinement due to integration with the Dragon God Core.

Spiritual Power Grade: Green

Species Type: Dragon (Retrovirus)

Attributes: Dragon, Fire (Fate)

Skills:

X – Absolute Mimicry […]

Temporary Skills based on Host:

SSS – Abyssal Immunity […]

SS – Dragon’s Breath […]

SS – Draconic Fury […]

S – Scorching Barrage […]

S – Molten Armor of Corruption […]

——————

Kain raised an eyebrow.

“Sub-Diamond, huh?” he murmured. “So you’re not quite there yet.”

But close.

Close enough that, given time, Vauleth could finally cross the last hurdle and ascend to Blue-grade—maybe even before the National Tournament. Kain grinned. “Looks like I gambled right.”

Vauleth made a low noise. Something between a groan and a satisfied growl. He was clearly tired.

Kain reached out and scratched gently between his horns. “Good job, big guy. Now get some rest.”

With the core business settled, Kain turned his attention to two equally pressing problems.

First: Queen.

The evolution of his second contract was equally pressing, and considering how Queen was technically his secondary contract, and his primary contract was to the symbiont Eve inside of her, Kain could only imagine how complex the simultaneous evolution of both at the same time would be. And whereas before he at least had a clue that the Royal Jelly likely would play a role in its evolution…he was now flying completely blind.

Second: the bill.

More specifically, paying off the black hole of spiritual ore he owed to Halreth, the Empire’s best blacksmith and now Kain’s most important (and scary) client. The man had prepaid him a ridiculous twenty billion for ore delivery. And knowing the man’s obsessive interest in the red mineral shard—the one he claimed could push him past Exalted Grandmaster into becoming a Divine Craftsman—Kain was sure that if he failed to deliver…

Well, best-case scenario? Halreth stops answering his messages.

Worst case? Considering that he is the best blacksmith in the Empire, who was at least 8-stars himself, makes weapons for 9-star tamers, and likely has more than one high-level student…

Kain may end up as the first planner in history to be hunted down and slaughtered by a group of high-level beast-tamers..

Kain didn’t want to test it.

Which was how he ended up where he was now—on Pangea. More specifically, standing in front of a jagged, shadowy cavern mouth surrounded by dying moss and flakes of that strange red mineral embedded in the cliffs.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Plan A: get more ore. Plan B: accept death. I think I know the obvious choice…”

Unfortunately, he’d already tried to take the easy route.

When Kain had gone to Aurem—the massive golden dragon whose hoard these minerals had originally come from—he’d thought, maybe, just maybe, he could convince the oversized lizard to help him out. Mine a little. Share the wealth. You know. Bonding between ‘father and son’.

Instead?

Aurem’s response had been less than friendly.

Kain narrowly dodged a building-sized torrent of flame and barely managed to phase out of reality before the fire melted the rock where he’d been standing.

“Rude,” Kain had muttered at the time. “That’s no way to treat your dad. Kids these days—no respect.”

Now, Kain was left with not many options except to try mining himself. But without Aegis and his contracts (who were unable to enter Pangea—at least not yet), Kain was stuck having to try and mine himself. But the mineral was deceptively hard, and he worked for hours to chip off a sliver the size of his pink finger.

Unfortunately, inside Pangea, Kain’s powers were… limited. Despite being its creator, he wasn’t some omnipotent god. His strength here was the same as it was outside of the planet. The only benefit was that he could phase himself partially out of reality, allowing him to avoid attacks and remain undetectable to most creatures—yes, even dragons who may or may not be Demi-god level now.

“Even if you’ve reached Demi-god,” Kain muttered smugly under his breath, thinking of Aurem, while resting in the cavern, “you still can’t touch me.”

He was halfway through mapping out how long it would take for him to get the amount of metal he owed (years at this rate) when something tugged at the back of his mind.

A strange sensation. Like a faint pulse.

It wasn’t danger. More like… a summons.

Frowning, Kain phased out, exited the mine, and followed the tug.

It led him away from the cliffs, past a range of mountains and across several glowing forest groves, until he arrived at a familiar clearing.

The World Tree.

He stopped, startled.

It had been weeks since he’d thought about it—since Bai Lian had been sealed away inside a golden fruit. A fruit born of the tree itself after she was absorbed and turned into its steward. Her body had vanished. Her consciousness had been pulled inward. And Kain had left, unsure what would become of her.

But now—

The fruit was shaking.

Subtle tremors ran along the Tree’s highest branches. The golden pod twisted slightly, then again—like something moving inside. A nearby flock of rainbow-winged skyfinches scattered. Small spiritual beasts poked their heads from burrows and began to approach cautiously.

Kain’s eyes narrowed.

The pod jerked violently. A final spasm.

Then—snap.

The vine holding it severed. The fruit plummeted.

But before it could hit the ground, a vine whipped out from the World Tree and gently caught it, cradling it downward like an offering.

It landed in a soft bed of glowing moss.

Kain took a step closer.

And the pod cracked.

A seam split down the center. A viscous, syrupy liquid spilled out, sticking to the moss. It smelled… sweet. Like nectar.

And then—

A hand burst free.

Slender. Pale. Fingers trembling.

Kain froze as a figure slowly pushed its way out of the fruit. Covered in the same thick syrup, the person collapsed onto hands and knees, breathing heavily.

Then they looked up.

And Kain stared into a familiar face—eyes still dazed, body slick with fluid, but unmistakably—

“Bai Lian,” he whispered.

She had returned.

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