This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 897: Chapter 897: The ‘Holy Mother’

Kain opened his eyes. The faint blue glow in his pupils dimmed, replaced by the faint sparkle of excitement at having broken through a major milestone.

Serena stood before him, her expression caught between relief, exhaustion, and happiness for him.

However, there was also a faint twinge of sadness in the wrinkle of her brow, that only someone who knew her well could see. In her trembling hands lay the cracked brooch, its faint indigo gleam now long gone.

When his gaze fell on it, his heart clenched.

He reached out slowly, brushing his thumb across the shattered gem. On the underside, half-obscured by time, was a name he recognized instantly—Evangeline Lumos-Storm.

Serena’s mother. A somewhat famous figure, so naturally he’d heard of her. And knew that she was dead.

Guilt twisted through him, sharp and unrelenting. “This…” His voice faltered, his throat tight. He had no words that could possibly make it right.

Serena’s lips curved into a weak smile, so different from her usual aloof demeanour. “It doesn’t matter. You needed it. She would’ve wanted—”

Kain’s hand enveloped hers before she could finish. “No.” His tone was firm, quiet. “I’ll fix it.”

Before she could react, his grip tightened slightly—then the faint shimmer of spiritual light enveloped the broach. Serena blinked, startled. When her eyes cleared, the broach was gone, and Kain’s eyes were closed.

Suddenly, she noticed that warmth was enveloping her hand and instantly blushed.

“You could have let go…”

———————

The next moment, he stood beneath a vast, glowing sky that now contained SIX celestial bodies visible and rotating around the planet.

Pangea.

But not quite the Pangea he remembered.

The small dwarven city that once rested in the mountain basin had transformed into a sprawling megalopolis. Smoke and steam rose from dozens of iron towers, their gears spinning in rhythmic harmony with the hum of spiritual power sigils and circuits etched into every street.

Overhead, what looked to be artificial birds or small, rune-propelled drones zipped around carrying parcels between various buildings.

’Wow. Have they already mastered next-day shipping?’

Dwarves bustled through the streets dressed in a peculiar, uniform style—black pants and plain white shirts. He can’t help but notice that this was his exact outfit the last time he’d visited the dwarves, the simplicity of the outfit now treated as formal attire among the dwarves.

He looks down at the red sweater he was wearing now and internally thinks that maybe the next time he comes they’ll all be wearing red sweaters instead.

’They’d kind of look like Santa’s elves if they do…’

Shaking the unserious thoughts from his mind, he continued examinign the changes. Some dwarves metallic tablets that projected light-screens—designs inspired by the tablet Kain had once asked them to craft for the Inheritance Relic’s Guardian. He could see how his influence had echoed through generations.

His heart tightened. It’s only been a few weeks outside… how long has it been here?

A quick sweep of his senses told him the answer: several decades. Time in Pangea still moved far faster than the outer world. The first generation of dwarves was long gone, either dead or retires, replaced by their descendants—the fourth, fifth, or even eighth, by his estimate.

And far in the distance, across the glimmering valley, stood another city. Its architecture shimmered faintly with silver-green light—elven. Kain turned toward it briefly, but couldn’t bring himself to investigate. Not yet.

He had more important matters to attend to now than satisfying his curiosity.

He focused instead on the pulsing spiritual signature deep within the dwarven capital—the clan chief.

———————

The dwarven chief’s office was a fusion of old craftsmanship and modern precision: shelves of mechanical parts, a glowing furnace-heart engine embedded in the wall, and crystalline lamps shaped like molten gems.

The man seated at the desk was not one Kain recognized—younger, but with the bearing of one who carried great responsibility.

Yet the instant Kain appeared, the chief froze.

Their eyes met. The soul-deep resonance of creator and creation needed no words. The dwarf immediately fell to one knee, head bowed. “My lord.”

“Rise,” Kain said quietly. “I need your help.”

He held out the shattered brooch.

The chief took it carefully, pulling a set of adjustable lenses from his belt and inspecting it with reverent curiosity. After a long pause, he exhaled through his nose. “This craftsmanship… and the energy woven inside… This is at least the level of a Level-7 beast.”

It seemed the dwarves had developed their own system for ranking strength—practical and straightforward. A Level 7 aligned with what the Celestial Empire would call an indigo‑grade existence. But since no dwarf had ever reached such a level, and only spiritual beasts on Pangea had demonstrated that degree of power, the chief assumed the energy came from something other than dwarf or elf.

Kain nodded once. “Can you restore it?”

The dwarf’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Truthfully? Not with certainty. Our strongest artificers are only Level Five. But…” He glanced up, eyes full of conviction. “If it pleases the Creator, we will do it. By any means necessary. We will need thirty years.”

Thirty years. Kain did the calculation. In the outside world, that was only a few days.

He smiled faintly. “That will do.”

He placed the brooch into the chief’s hands. “Keep it safe. Restore it if you can. But do not make any changes to its appearance—it still belongs to her.”

’Her?’

There is a ’Her’ around their Lord? Instinctively, the chief felt as though this wasn’t referring to Bai Lian. When she had requests of the dwarves, she tended to just ask herself. Could it perhaps be…

’This is a task from their ’Holy Mother’?!’ The dwarven chief’s pupils quaked at the prospect of a Goddess-like figure— their maker’s ’wife’— now needing to be added to the religious texts of the dwarves.

However, he forcefully tamped down on his excitement to play it cool. The ’Holy Mother’ had not revealed herself yet to them, perhaps this is a test by her to be granted her favour!

The chief bowed deeply and said solemnly, “As you command, my lord. We will not disappoint the Holy Mother.”

Kain blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “The… Holy Mother?” he muttered under his breath, but the dwarf had already lowered his head again, trembling with reverence.

Kain simply disappeared, not wanting to pry into the strange minds of the dwarves.

However, where he couldn’t see, outside all of the dwarves had stopped and bowed in the direction of the Chief’s quarters and were only now getting up again to resume their activities.

Soon, 3 edicts were released.

First: The top artificers must aid in the repair of a ’divine object’!

Second: All dwarves must now wear red garments made from what appears to be an animal’s fleece!

Third: A ’Holy Mother’ must now be added to their religious texts!

———————

When Kain opened his eyes again, the soft light of the cave returned. Serena was still there, staring at him with a mixture of relief and confusion.

“I left it in Pangea,” he said simply. “They’ll repair it—or at least try.”

Her eyes widened. “You used the dwarves?”

He nodded. “They’ve come a long way. You wouldn’t believe what they’ve built.”

Serena, at his words, then tilted her head in curiosity. “Maybe you could bring me along next time—let me see and thank the dwarves myself.”

He laughed under his breath. “Maybe. But if I do, the dwarves might start making statues of you or calling you the wife of their god or something.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “What?! That’s—”

Kain’s own face reddened as he scratched the back of his neck. “Right. That… probably won’t happen.”

Neither of them were aware that an entire race of dwarves had already made it so—honouring what they believed was divine truth.

———————–

Kain and Serena travelled through one kingdom after another. The turmoil caused by the Abyss not making the presence of foreigners stand out anymore. Pretty much everyone looked at them with pity, assuming them to be refugees.

They weren’t doing this to go on a sightseeing tour. But rather to plant seeds of resistance across the east before the Abyss took root there. And at least one such seed had been deposited in every city that they passed. Some openly recruited members for their ’resistance’ once they’d learned the array form Kain and Serena. While others under more oppressive and untrustworthy governments acted more covertly.

The Rising Sun refugees rebuilding their kingdom were not enough. They needed more. Stronger allies. And all the way back in the few days they’d been in the Wuxing Elemental Sect, they had already marked another place worth visiting—a region rumoured to actually have some connection to the Celestial Empire long ago.

Their destination: the far north.

Snow whipped around them as they approached. The landscape was stark and silent, a vast expanse of frozen stone and glittering white. In the distance, through the fog and wind, stood a city half-buried in ice—its spires frozen mid-collapse, its walls glistening under the pale sun.

Kain looked out across the frostbitten expanse, his breath misting faintly in the air.

“The Frozen Frontier,” Serena murmured beside him.