This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Kain woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of a bell chiming faintly in the distance. His eyes opened instantly—beast-tamer conditioning had long since purged any grogginess from early rises. A quick stretch, a hot shower in the marble washroom that probably cost more than his entire luxury dorm room back at the College, and he was dressed and on his way.

He’d memorized the path from his room to the dining hallas he’d been escorted by a mute servant the night before who later disappeared like mist as soon as Kain sat down.

The Storm manor’s guest wing, he’d noted, was… distant. Distant enough that Kain was convinced it had been placed deliberately on the exact opposite side of the estate from Serena’s room. Serena’s father has essentially guaranteed that Kain could not realistically get to Serena’s room under the guise of being lost unless his sense of direction was absolute trash—something unheard of amongst mid-level beast-tamers like Kain. If, at his level, they still had a poor sense of direction, they should never consider entering the wild.

He made his way into the dining hall just as the soft morning light filtered through the upper windows, bouncing off polished silver fixtures and enchanted lanterns that glowed with a warm, artificial sunrise.

Serena was already seated.

She didn’t look up, casually spearing a slice of skyfruit with her fork. A spread of pastries, sliced spirit fruit, porridge made from spiritual grain porridge, and something that resembled grilled silkrice buns covered the silver platters before her. There were exactly zero staff in sight, but everything was fresh, warm, and perfectly plated.

Of course.

Kain took his usual seat across from her but didn’t say a word. Not because he didn’t want to.

Because he was bracing himself in case a certain someone happened to arrive and see him chatting with Serena.

And sure enough—

Footsteps echoed.

‘Speak of the devil.’

Serena’s father entered the room wearing the exact same black-trimmed suit as yesterday. But unlike the perfect, magazine-cover-level grooming from the night before, his hair was just a touch less neat. Not messy. Just… imperfect.

Kain didn’t miss it.

He likely hadn’t slept. Spending the whole night analyzing the ores Kain handed over.

The man sat down at the head of the table again, expression unreadable, and began calmly spooning spirit-grain porridge into his bowl like he wasn’t a living intimidation aura.

Kain didn’t dare ask about the ore.

He focused on the flakiest-looking croissant he could find and chewed in absolute silence.

Once all three plates were cleared and the silent staff swept in with uncanny speed to remove the dishes and vanish once more, the tension finally cracked.

Serena’s father raised his hand.

Two piles of metal samples appeared on the cleared table.

One pile was about three times the size of the other.

He gestured to the larger one. “These I could identify.”

With a flick of the wrist, a sealed slip of paper flew across the table and stopped neatly in front of Kain.

Kain opened it.

Then blinked.

Then blinked again.

The number scrawled on the note made his eyebrows twitch.

Even his most optimistic estimates were below this figure. The amount was enough to buy a full set of the best 5-star equipment. And that’s just the amount earned from fist-sized samples of each.

Serena’s father said, his tone clipped but clear, “Some of the metals identified are rare. Others are high in purity. Many are valuable—but nothing world-changing.”

He then gestured to the smaller pile, each piece of metal distinct and strange. One chunk looked like obsidian dipped in oil; another shimmered faintly with overlapping geometric patterns.

“These,” he said, “I couldn’t identify. Some might be undiscovered ores or ores so rare that I never came across them before.”

Kain kept his face neutral, but his brain was already working.

Of course, the ones from Pangea would stump even a master smith. He doubted even Serena’s father’s teacher would be able to place them. After all, they likely had no equivalent on this planet.

“I plan to bring them to my mentor,” her father added, “before the auction. If I can’t identify them, he might.”

Serena perked up instantly. “Then let’s come too.”

Kain stiffened.

Her father’s gaze turned slowly toward her, eyebrow twitching just slightly. “This is not a social visit.”

“But he may want to meet Kain,” Serena said smoothly. “Especially if those metals are of interest. Kain has access to more.”

Kain had to fight not to wince. That was skirting the edge.

Her father turned back to Kain.

“Is that true?”

Kain didn’t speak. He just nodded once.

A long pause.

Then, with a resigned sigh that somehow still managed to carry more authority than a courtroom verdict, Serena’s father stood.

“I’ll notify him.”

He pulled out a small communication device from his inner coat and sent a message with a ripple of spiritual energy.

Seconds later, the object glowed faintly in confirmation.

“He’s available.”

Without another word, he waved his hand.

Light surged across the floor. A spatial fluctuation appeared beneath their feet.

And they vanished from the Storm Manor.

They reappeared in a flash of light, the scent of iron and smoke flooding Kain’s senses.

Unfortunately, Kain had still been seated in the dining room when they teleported.

So when the Storm manor’s elegant chair vanished from under him—

Thud

He fell flat on his back with a grunt, air punched from his lungs.

Serena let out a startled noise beside him—her footing unsteady from the teleport while sitting too—but her father caught her in a smooth, practiced motion and set her back upright without even blinking.

Kain wheezed from the ground while staring at the huge difference in treatment.

‘Geez…I’m beginning to suspect he’s not particularly fond of me.’

The room they landed in was a sprawling workshop, glowing with residual heat. Massive furnaces lined the walls. Racks of weapon blanks and enchanted tools sparkled faintly in every direction. In the center stood a workbench even larger in size than the massive dining table at the Storms’ home, cluttered with all kinds of arcane instruments.

And behind that bench—

A man with a beard streaked in silver and arms like tree trunks looked up from where he was inspecting a jewel through a lens.

His voice was rough and direct.

“You brought me a customer before breakfast?”

Serena’s father stepped forward, voice crisp. “No. A potential supplier.”

The man’s eyes flicked to Kain, who was still brushing the dust from the floor off his shirt.

“Well,” the blacksmith grinned, “Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

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