This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

The only sounds were the furious beating of wings and the roar of wind rushing past their ears.

Kain’s teeth clenched as he leaned forward on the Vespid’s back, his gaze locked on the distant ledge where the white glow pulsed like the beacon of a lighthouse in the dark. Behind him, Serena and Malzahir flew in close formation. Ahead, Zareth and Lina were already past the halfway point, steadily gaining ground.

They just had to keep moving.

Then—

A thunderous crack echoed behind them.

Kain turned instinctively, his heart lurching. At the edge of the chasm, shadows broke apart like splinters as something massive slammed into the stone. Cracks spiderwebbed outward, chunks crumbling and tumbling over the steep cliff.

Their pursuer—the predator in this never-ending hunt—had arrived.

Still, its body remained hidden behind the gloom of the tunnel, but one grotesquely long, jointless limb unfurled out from the darkness, slick and glinting unnaturally under the dim light.

And it moved. Faster than the eye could see it whipped forward.

To Malzahir bringing up the rear.

“Malzahir—!” Kain shouted.

The Vespid carrying him banked sharply at the last second, reacting on pure instinct. The limb missed, but the sheer force of wind that followed it sliced the air like a blade. A pained screech and the frantic buzzing of damaged wings echoed across the chasm.

Kain’s blood turned to ice.

The guard wobbled mid-flight. One wing—shredded. The other—bent at a crooked angle. It flailed wildly, trying to keep balance, but it was already too late.

They were falling.

Malzahir didn’t scream. His eyes were wide with shock as gravity yanked him downward. The Vespid tried to stabilize, but the descent only quickened.

“NO!”

Kain sped forward to clutch Malzahir’s outstretched hand and slow their descent, but the huge load of another of its kind, plus another human, was too much for his current mount and soon it too began to sink down—albeit at a slower rate.

However, the slowed descent was all he needed.

Another Vespid was summoned by him.

The new guard dove, catching Malzahir as Kain let go and below, the wounded Vespid finally gave out. It vanished as Kain recalled it. Fortunately, under the care of its mother, it should return to fighting condition soon.

Kain exhaled through his teeth while the new Vespid climbed, inch by inch, fighting gravity like it was dragging Malzahir out of the jaws of death itself.

Finally, finally, it crested back into the group’s altitude. Malzahir clung to his new mount, arms shaking. His face was pale, bloodless, but alive.

No one said anything, still shocked by the sudden attack.

Kain fell in beside them, eyes scanning Malzahir’s face. “You good?”

Malzahir opened his mouth, then closed it. His nod was tight. Wordless.

‘On the Brightside,’ Kain thought, ‘ it looks like Malzahir’s resignation to die was no longer so strong.’

After all, anyone truly resigned to death wouldn’t be so panicked when the moment finally came.

They kept moving, not because they wanted to—but because they had to.

Behind them, the creature growled again, low and grating, and then fell eerily silent.

As if watching. As if thinking and plotting how to continue its pursuit.

And Kain, still not blinking, felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck at its gaze—but he only kept his gaze trained on the white light guiding them forward.

The glow on the far end of the gap became clearer now—less like a beacon and more like a threshold, alien and absolute in its brilliance. Whatever lay beyond it, none of them could guess.

Kain prompted the Vespids guard leading the way ahead when he saw it pause in hesitation. The loyal guard darted forward obediently, its wings a blur as it broke from the cluster.

The abomination roared again behind them—frustrated now. Its massive limb swiped again through the empty air, but none of them were close enough to strike. Still, it moved along the wall of the tunnel, trying to trace a path along the ceiling or ledge. There was no telling how much reach it had—or how long before it found a way across.

Kain could already see it testing the sturdiness of the walls and ceiling. The last thing Kain wanted to see was this massive horror attempting to crawl across the ceiling reminiscent of a possessed person in a horror movie.

Kain’s gaze flicked forward again just as his scouting Vespid passed through the wall of white light.

And then—his connection with it completely vanished.

Not a cry. No resistance. Just… gone.

“Stop!” Kain barked, yanking his mount back with such force it nearly knocked into Serena’s.

The group skidded mid-air, wings beating erratically in tight space as they all hovered in place. Pete clung tightly to the Vespid carrying him, face pale.

Serena turned to Kain, brows furrowed. “What happened?”

“I lost contact with it again,” Kain said grimly. “Just like before.”

Lina’s expression turned sombre. “Another one?”

Kain nodded, jaw tight. A heavy silence followed.

Then Kain muttered, “Maybe… maybe we should all switch to Vespids as mounts. I can summon more if needed. Queen can replenish them in time. If something goes wrong beyond that light, we don’t risk our main contracts.”

Serena said nothing, her eyes unreadable. But Lina frowned.

“I see your point,” Lina said carefully. “But if it’s that dangerous, maybe we need our strongest creatures ready. Not stashed away. If something destroys a spiritual creature without warning, I’d rather be able to fight back before that happens.”

Kain hesitated. It wasn’t an unfair point.

Zareth cleared his throat.

“There’s no time to keep debating,” he said, voice calm and final. “I’ll go through first. Me and my partner. If something happens, you’ll know, and we’ll keep the loss limited.”

“Wait—” Kain started.

“I’m the leader,” Zareth interrupted, shooting him a glance. “This is what I’m supposed to do.”

“But it might be safer if we all go at once,” Serena said quietly.

Pete, pale and clutching his Vespid due to the unfamiliar feeling of flight, gave a tired nod. “If one of us is doomed, we might all be. No sense in staggering the risk. Might as well share it.”

Zareth sighed, then relented. “Fine. All together. No hesitation.”

They tightened formation. Kain looked back one last time and caught a glimpse of the abomination backing away from the ledge.

Then—they crossed.

The white light washed over them like a veil of fireless heat.

It did not burn. Did not push. It simply was.

For a moment, there was nothing.

Then—

“Ghhh—!” Zareth grunted, clutching at his side.

Lina gave a sharp gasp. “Something’s wrong with our contracts—!”

Kain spun, alarmed.

Zareth was still on his mount, teeth gritted. Lina hunched forward, one hand to her chest, eyes wide with confusion and pain. But there were no injuries.

Kain looked to their mounts—both still flying, still whole.

Nothing had attacked them.

“What is it?” Serena called.

“It’s not them,” Zareth said through clenched teeth. “It’s—my contract. I can feel it fading. It’s like—something’s taken an eraser to remove the connection we have.”

Lina’s eyes were frantic. “Mine too. Not my Nyxveil itself.” She said gesturing to the black moth beneath her. “The bond. The contract itself is coming undone!”