This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Lukas Reeve looked… normal.

Kain stared at him across the stage, trying to reconcile what he saw, with what he knew.

The blonde hair was neatly combed, parted slightly to the left. He looked clean-cut. Like he could be the classroom president.

His training suit was spotless, neat, and free of wrinkles. There wasn’t a hair out of place or a sign of guilt in his expression.

Was it because he didn’t know his secret had been exposed to the entire College overnight?

Or was he just that shameless?

Kain’s eye twitched.

Lukas wasn’t pacing or looking nervous. If anything, he looked mildly amused, as if this were just another regular duel. Just another day…

‘Just another day where you are about to be ritually obliterated in front of thousands.’ Kain thought to himself to soothe his irritation at Lukas’ demeanour. And yet the smugness clinging to Lukas’ smile made all of Kain’s efforts to remain calm fruitless.

But amidst all of the anger, Kain also was confused…

There was nothing about Lukas’ appearance that screamed “insecure incel who spends his free time insulting his classmates online.” If Kain hadn’t read the blog with his own eyes, he would’ve written him off as a perfectly normal, yet high-achieving, well-adjusted guy. A background character. Some guy who’d peak in college and spend the rest of his life bragging about how he almost made it into the Top 5 at Dark Moon College and just missed the National Tournament.

Moreover, in combination with his drastic rise in rank from floating between ranks 14-15 to rank 7 in just a few months, Kain had actually admired him and considered him to be a hard worker.

But that was before Kain had read the blog.

And when he remembered that Serena post—the lewd title, the insinuations, the way Lukas had reduced one of his closest friends (maybe even more than) to that…

His jaw tensed.

It didn’t matter how harmless Lukas looked now.

Kain was going to break him.

More than Soren did. More than anyone had.

He’d already made that decision.

Lukas noticed Kain staring and smiled—wider this time, friendly. Or at least attempting to appear so. Like they were colleagues, fellow competitors. Like Lukas hadn’t been hadn’t insulted himself and his friends and posted it in front of the entire student body.

As was custom before the match, Lukas walked toward the center of the stage and extended his hand.

The handshake before the match was tradition. A gesture of sportsmanship. Mutual respect.

Tsk. Kain couldn’t resist clicking his tongue and wrinkling his nose in disgust. Respect wasn’t something Lukas deserved.

Kain didn’t move.

The crowd noticed. The air changed.

A tension flickered through the audience like a ripple in still water.

Even the announcers paused for half a breath too long.

Serena, watching from the front row, narrowed her eyes.

Lukas’ hand wavered slightly in the air, but he didn’t drop it. Instead, he held the pose, his fake smile beginning to falter just a bit. As if he finally noticed Kain’s eyes.

Kain tilted his head.

He wasn’t going to shake.

He’d been fully prepared to let the tension bloom, to let the refusal hang between them like a slap to the face.

But then—

He remembered something.

Specifically, he remembered the fact that ever since returning from the relic, he’d broken two chairs, a doorknob, and a tablet by accident.

And he smiled.

It wasn’t a nice smile.

He stepped forward slowly.

Lukas’ eyes flickered in relief, clearly thinking the moment had passed.

Kain reached out and grabbed his hand.

And then didn’t let go.

The pressure was subtle.

Controlled.

To everyone watching, it just looked like a firm handshake.

But to Lukas—

Crack.

Lukas’ eyes went wide at the same time as the soft click of cracked bone.

His teeth clenched instantly, the corners of his mouth twitching. A single bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

And then, very deliberately, he bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

But, he didn’t cry out.

Although, Kain was pleased to see that he still shook as he walked—no, fled—back to his side of the stage.

Kain rolled his shoulders once, like someone loosening up before a casual spar.

No one said anything. Nor did Lukas complain.

Because here’s the thing:

Anyone watching closely—including the professors in the audience, many of them high-level beast-tamers—had seen the exchange. Had seen Kain’s body language. Had seen the casual, neutral grip without any ‘extra exertion’.

If Lukas complained now… he’d simply be mocked.

‘Oh? Can’t handle a handshake? Maybe beast-taming isn’t for you.’

‘Better check if his bones are made of chalk.’

For the first time in a while, Kain let out a relaxed and pure smile, rather than a fake or sadistic one like he’d let out prior to the match.

Kain also turned to his side of the stage, his expression unreadable, and took a deep breath.

It was time.

The announcer’s voice cut through the building tension like a blade.

“Stage One! Kain Newman versus Lukas Reeve! Begin!”

The moment the announcer called for the match to begin, both sides summoned their contracts. But then, under the strange gaze of the audience, neither side launched an attack.

From what they could see, Kain’s side didn’t move.

Neither did Lukas’.

Not because of strategy.

But because Lukas couldn’t.

Although the audience couldn’t see her, Kain had summoned Bea the second the match started.

And Bea was already inside Lukas’ mind. As a blue-grade spiritual creature, it had taken her mere seconds to control everyone and everything on the field.

Normally, Kain and Bea would be unable to attack the opponent beast-tamer like this. Thankfully for Kain, Lukas’ gift of adding a strange corrosive attribute to the lightning of all of his contracts means that he was technically involving himself in the duel. Therefore, Kain and his contracts could hit him directly.

Perfect. Now Lukas couldn’t even open his mouth to give up the battle even if he wanted to. He would be forced to endure whatever it was that Kain had in store for him.

And Kain definitely had no intention of letting this end quickly.

No. This wasn’t just a match.

This was a lesson.

And class was in session.

He raised his again hand—and for the first time since the tournament began—called forth more than two contracts.

A burst of light. Another. A third.

To the audience, three figures materialized in dazzling flashes: Aegis, Vauleth, and the Vespid Queen.

The crowd gasped.

They hadn’t expected for Kain to release so many of his contracts. Many of them couldn’t even see the spore-like Chewy.

The tiny spore nestled like a speck near Kain’s heel, practically invisible to the naked eye.

Nor did they see Bea, who was microscopic.

But they were still impressed by the summoning of ‘three’ contracts.

Lukas jerked forward awkwardly. His body moved like it belonged to someone else—because it did. Jittery. Like a marionette.

Lukas’ expression strained under the weight of being both a spectator and prisoner within his own body.

He summoned his contracts just before losing full control. Four spiritual creatures appeared in flickers of aggressive lightning:

A lean jaguar, fur crackling with white arcs, muscle twitching as if itching to strike.

A coiled, black serpent with horns, its fangs dripping with black lightning.

A dusky thunderbird with wings that sparked as they moved, fierce and proud.

And the last, a heavily-armoured pangolin-like beast, scales conducting a dull electric hum.

But it didn’t matter.

Kain wasn’t going to let any of them really get to fight anyways.

He gestured. Queen moved first.

Despite her regal elegance and translucent wings, she radiated command. Her mandibles clicked once. Her antennae glowed.

And then she sprayed a mist of rejuvenating life energy that persisted in the field and instantly began to heal injuries the second that they formed.

The mist covered Lukas.

And his contracts.

A healing mist.

The audience murmured.

“Is he helping the enemy?”

No.

He was removing the one excuse the staff could have to end the match.

Medical intervention was no longer necessary.

Every broken joint. Every ruptured nerve. Every spiritual backlash was reversed just enough to keep them from stopping the match out of concern.

Lukas tried to scream. To plead. To alert the staff that something was wrong with his body. To forfeit. But Bea kept his mouth shut.

Next, Aegis sprinted forward. and knocked away everything in his path like a bulldozer until he was on the opposite side of the stage.

He raised a single giant finger the length of Kain’s legs and slammed it down.

Not on a creature.

On Lukas’ knee.

Crack.

Another one.

This time the shin.

Queen pulsed again.

And healed it.

Again.

And again.

The jaguar tried to leap forward, but Bea immediately dulled its movements and even began to mess with its senses.

Vauleth soared above, letting out a guttural, unstable roar. He dove and unleashed a cone of burning flame, calibrated just low enough to damage Lukas’ serpent’s scales without knocking it unconscious.

The serpent writhed, lightning scattering in chaotic arcs.

Then Queen healed it.

The pangolin lunged next, perhaps in some desperate instinct to shield Lukas. A noble attempt.

Vauleth landed atop it, claws digging in with surgical precision.

And held.

Until the creature stopped moving.

Again, Queen came to the rescue like a trusty wet nurse and revived the enemy.

Kain walked slowly forward.

“You know,” he said conversationally, as if chatting over tea, “you fooled me. I thought you were a decent, hardworking guy.”

Lukas’ eyes twitched, but he was unable to retort.

“But then I realized how sad and pathetic you actually are..”

Crack.

Aegis poked at his other leg.

And once again, Queen healed it.

Lukas’s torment wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

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