This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Capítulo 915: Chapter 915: Another ‘Guest’?

Kain kept his expression perfectly neutral, even as the abyssal wearing the boy’s body shifted with another jerky, unnatural movement.

At one point it tried to casually shift it’s weight to one leg the way a human might—and the leg bent sideways at an angle no joint should bend, like it was double‑jointed everywhere and nowhere at once. The movement looked painful, grotesque, and utterly unaware of its own anatomy.

The dragon had clearly never operated a human body before—its motions were stiff, twitchy, and occasionally contorted, like pieces of a puzzle forced together in the wrong order.

But its voice—smooth, smug, dripping with condescension—flowed effortlessly as it continued to narrate its ‘grand life’

Kain let it ramble. The longer it talked, the more answers spilled out.

And after everything he’d just learned about ‘divine energy’, the dietary hierarchy among the abyssals, and past abyssal invasions… he decided to go fishing for the big question.

“So,” Kain said, brushing crumbs from his fingers with an air of casual duty. “My—ahem—my lord has been wondering something. We can’t send people here blind if there are hidden… surprises. You abyssals invaded this planet once already. And then you just…stopped. Why? Doesn’t seem like you all are the sort to go soft-hearted at the last second and abandon your efforts to consume this planet.”

The dragon paused.

Then its mouth twisted into a sharp scowl, as if reliving bad memories.

“Ah… that.”

It leaned forward as if revealing a major secret.

“You ask about the failure of the ‘first harvest’.”

Kain gave a small shrug. “Curiosity.”

The dragon let out a brittle sound—half‑laugh, half‑snarl—as if the memory scraped raw wounds rather than brought satisfaction.

“Over a thousand years ago,” the dragon began, “we descended upon this realm. The resonance was clear then. The beings on this planet, low-level organisms that Mother said were related to her, would release a signal that was strong—clean, bright, easy to follow. A perfect feast. A world starving for guidance.”

Its violet eyes narrowed.

“But then… he interfered.”

Kain didn’t react. Not outwardly.

But inside, his mind sharpened.

Amos? Only he seemes able to draw such negative emotions out of the dragon.

The dragon seemed almost eager to speak about what happened back then—like someone finally scratching a centuries-old itch.

“That native human interfered,” the dragon continued, its voice tight with remembered fury. “The one you called ‘Amos’, with an unusual power who rejected Mother’s offer and disrupted the harvest.”

The dragon’s feet twitched—sharp, scaled talons protruding through the ruined remnants of the boy’s shoes—scraping shallow grooves into the stone.

“And he was not alone. A woman—another native—had discovered an ancient relic beneath the bedrock. She dragged him there. Together they activated it.”

Kain blinked once.

“A relic?”

The dragon nodded slowly, savouring Kain’s interest.

“Yes. A relic older than your species. Born of a time when this realm brushed against higher planes. It managed to release much of this world’s divine energy to create a shield, or a veil is a more apt description, that prevented Mother from continuing to lock onto the coordinates of this planet.”

It tapped the boy’s forehead with a talon—carefully avoiding slicing the skin this time.

“When he refused Mother’s embrace, Amos and the woman unleashed the relic’s dormant power. It flooded the planet. Every microbial signature—every biological marker that broadcasts void coordinates—was muted.”

Kain felt his stomach tighten.

“They erased the signal,” he said quietly.

“Precisely.” The dragon spread its arms wide. “In seconds, the planet vanished from the void. The path collapsed. Even Mother could not rediscover it. Only worlds with clear microbial resonance can be traced. And this realm became… silent.”

The dragon clicked its tongue with disdain.

“That man cost billions of potential ascensions. Stole an entire feast from Mother’s children.”

It leaned in.

“And you should know something else. That cunning human knew exactly what he was doing. Even making follow up actions to prevent Mother from locating me on this planet!”

Kain’s mind flickered with understanding.

“He created relic after relic,” the dragon hissed, voice low with remembered fury. “He scattered them across the planet—small ones, large ones, layered ones—each meant to mask, distort, or conceal any calls to the Great Mother. He spent years sabotaging every pathway Mother could use. Every signal. Every trace.”

Its teeth clenched.

“He wasn’t ignorant. He wasn’t confused. He chose to rob Mother of her harvest.”

The dragon’s fingers dug into the stone, talons screeching.

“Mother waited. She searched. But the relic’s power was absolute once activated. For years… nothing. Your world dropped into silence, hidden behind layer after layer of those abominable concealment methods.”

It tilted its head.

“And then—recently—the silence lifted. The signal returned. Stronger than ever.”

It tapped its own chest proudly. Perhaps he felt that his own devotion to his ‘Mother’ was so strong that it eventually got through the blockade.

“Mother recognized it instantly.”

Kain kept his breathing steady.

‘He’s talking about me… but he doesn’t know it.’

He swallowed the thought.

Instead, he pushed further.

“And this relic—where is it now?” Kain demanded, trying to sharpen his tone as if the very idea of such a device offended him on a fundamental level. “If something that dangerous still exists, even in fragments, then it must be found and wiped out. My…my Lord would never tolerate a relic capable of crippling the coordinates to this realm again. A threat like that should be found and destroyed, purified, eradicated—before it ever has the chance to activate a second time.”

The dragon laughed as if he found Kain’s anxious expression amusing.

“Oh, that’s easy.”

It gestured grandly around the chamber.

“You are standing on it.”

Kain blinked.

“…This place?”

“Yes,” the dragon said smugly. “After Amos and his companion triggered it, the relic shattered. Most of its physical form was destroyed. But its power—its influence—lingered here. The primitive natives rebuilt my seal atop the remnants, using that leftover suppression to bind me. Using the power of that relic they fashioned chains that could bind to my luck and fate. Fortunately, I am brilliant and developed the method of concealing my fate using that of this human’s. Now all I have to do is leave this relic, and once I return to Mother’s the end of these devious humans will be right around the corner. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Oh, I truly am brilliant. The mostbrilliant!”

Kain stared, incredulous, as the dragon broke out into laughter while bragging about his own ‘brilliance’. The dragon may have been ecstatic about this news, but Kain felt as if he’d been dunked into a bath of ice water.

“So there’s no intact relic?”

“None,” the dragon said cheerfully. “Only scraps. Barely functional, but useful enough as a prison. It is completely impossible for it to reactivate and conceal the coordinates of this entire large planet again.”

Kain’s shoulders sank.

Dammit.

He’d hoped for something he could reawaken. Something that might cripple abyssal detection again.

But the relic was long gone—only its ghost remained.

Still… the dragon had confirmed one crucial detail:

This room—this relic—was the only place where fate-bound chains could automatically seize the dragon again.

If its essence was released here, it would be recaptured.

If it left with the boy’s body…

No chains. No relic. No safety.

Kain nodded slowly, pretending thoughtful agreement.

Inside?

His mind raced.

‘If I destroy the boy’s body to release the dragon, the relic will trap it again… but the kid will truly die. After all, without a body to return to, he’s nothing more than a ghost.’

Unacceptable.

He needed another way.

‘Separate the dragon’s consciousness from the boy without destroying the vessel…’

Hard.

Possible? Maybe.

He mentally went through his options but none seemed capable of overpowering this demigod. Although the demigod was far weaker now, Kain had felt his strength firsthand and knew he wasn’t his match.

Kain inhaled deeply.

“I appreciate the explanations,” Kain said calmly while creeping slowly toward the abyssal’s location. “Truly.”

The dragon waved a clawed hand magnanimously.

“You are welcome. It has been centuries since anyone worthy spoke to me.”

Kain forced a polite smile but really his heart was pounding at what he knew would be a dangerous battle.

But before Kain could take even a single breath to shape the next lie on his tongue, the ground beneath them trembled.

The dragon-possessed boy froze mid-gesture, confusion in its violet gaze.

Kain stiffened as well.

The relic vibrated like something buried beneath the stone had just jolted awake for the first time in centuries.

Then—

A sharp buzzing filled the chamber.

Kain’s head snapped up.

An orb-shaped object shot into the room with an anxious whirr like it was fleeing for its life. It vibrated violently, lights strobing in frantic pulses.

Even the dragon’s expression faltered.

“…What—?”

The boy’s voice cut off instantly.

Because the air above them split—the space torn like a fragile cloth.

A colossal hand pushed through the fissure in space.

Pitch black cracks webbed outward from the point of intrusion, crawling across the air like shattered glass suspended in nothingness. Each crack emitted a sucking pull—small at first, then stronger, then terrifying.

The hand didn’t glow or emit any power. If anything, it seemed to be from an ordinary person.

But everyone there knew it was anything but.

Kain felt the air jerk toward the cracks, his hair being pulled toward the rift. The floating eye also got destabilized by the crack in space, its buzzing turning shrill and distorted.

“W-what is this—?! Who dares—?!”

A crack rippled downward—a jagged, writhing line of warped space—and clipped the side of the dragon-occupied body.

Its expression twisted with fear—an unfamiliar emotion—and his body began to spasm as if losing control.

Kain’s heartbeat spiked.

Because the instant he sensed the abyssal’s hold flicker…he knew.

‘Chance.’