This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Bea’s cloud of black pollen intensified as she focused her attention on Balens.

It wasn’t easy.

She had to pull most of her presence back from the other mental spaces to press harder against the Emanascion. And though she still maintained shallow links with the minds of Starweaver, Prismarin, and the Elemental Guardian, the grip was weaker now.

She could still sense them.

She just couldn’t continue her efforts to fully control them as she wished—especially if they were still resisting and there was some interference.

Which was, unfortunately, exactly what Serena had been counting on.

A ripple of spiritual energy pulsed out from the Prismarin. It didn’t lash out like a skill. Instead, it spread evenly, like mist settling over the field.

Bea immediately recoiled.

Kain’s eyes widened. “It has a skill for mental defence…”

He should’ve expected it. Serena wasn’t dumb. She knew exactly what Bea was. What she did. And with their final match looming, of course, she’d prepared countermeasures.

Heck, this rabbit probably learned this skill a long time ago, perhaps before they both even entered the Order.

‘So she was hiding this the entire time…’ Kain thought bitterly. ‘Probably waited until Bea fully committed to Balens before revealing it.’

Smart.

Annoying, but smart.

Still, they had bigger problems.

Because Balens had finally made his move.

Despite the black particles clinging to him—particles he couldn’t see, but clearly felt—Balens had not hesitated.

The scale’s plates tilted, rotated, and aligned.

And then—

They dropped.

The air around Aegis shifted with a sickening snap.

Kain saw it instantly.

It started small.

Aegis lifted his arm to parry a strike from the Starweaver—only for his forearm to crack. Not shatter. Just… crack. When he has a passive shield skill and is a rank higher than the Starweaver. Somehow, his defense had failed and now there was a thin line running down the wrist joint.

Starweaver’s blade cut through and sliced across his shoulder.

Aegis stumbled.

Kain’s jaw dropped. ‘That should’ve been blocked!’ Kain had no idea how the passive shielding skill Aegis had come to rely on could be inactivated.

Then came the next ripple.

As Aegis went to reposition, part of the stage beneath his foot shifted.

Just slightly.

Only by an inch.

But it was enough.

Aegis slipped.

Slipped.

He caught himself immediately, but the Starweaver didn’t hesitate. It slammed a glowing foot into his chest and sent him tumbling backward.

Another ripple.

This time, a chunk of dirt from the battlefield—a leftover crater—suddenly launched itself upward as if flung by an aftershock. It hit Aegis in the back of the head.

Kain stared.

“…Seriously?”

The audience gasped as the mighty Aegis, his indomitable wall of defense, staggered again.

And the Starweaver?

It grinned.

That elegant, star-threaded, smug little bastard of a creature twirled its sword playfully, then charged again. Why should it be intimidated by Aegis just because Aegis was a rank higher?

Now?

Now it was equal.

Maybe even slightly ahead.

Because Aegis wasn’t fighting the Starweaver anymore.

He was fighting the universe.

Every small mistake Serena should’ve made? Every time her contracts should’ve tripped, faltered, or fumbled? Every unintended side effect of every wish Serena had made?

They were all slamming into Aegis. One after another. After another.

All the deferred backlash.

All the consequences.

Kain grimaced. “Fate Bomb indeed…”

Bea pulsed a quick apology, but she couldn’t redirect her energy to assist him. Balens had to be dealt with first.

And Balens?

He was trying to deal with her.

Hard.

The scale floated in place, shifting uneasily. The glow of its aura began to twist, bending inward as if searching for the source of the discomfort.

It couldn’t see the black pollen.

But it could feel it.

Something vile and unseen clung to its surface like spiritual grime.

And Balens did not like being dirty—hence its incredibly shiny and polished exterior.

Serena’s lips parted again, murmuring another wish.

Balens’ plates tilted.

Nothing changed.

A pause.

Then again.

Another wish. This one stronger. More insistent.

Still nothing.

No change.

Balens hovered in place, agitated.

Serena’s brows pinched. She made another wish.

And then another.

Each time, Kain watched the scale flicker with pale energy. Each time, the pressure around it flared and fell.

But the pollen didn’t leave.

The uncomfortable sensation remained.

It had no weight.

No smell.

No color.

Because it wasn’t physical.

And the wishes?

They were either too vague or didn’t correctly identify what it was they wanted removed.

Kain’s eyes lit up with realization.

“She doesn’t know what to wish for.”

He grinned. “Of course. Balens isn’t omniscient. He can grant what’s spoken, but he can’t fill in the blanks.”

He looked back at the scale.

“She’s saying things like ‘clean it,’ or ‘remove what’s clinging to it,’ but that’s too general.”

Bea’s black particles weren’t really on Balens.

Not physically anyway.

They were a new substance composed of negative mental energy and thoughts.

They weren’t dirt.

They weren’t a curse.

But because Serena and Balens didn’t know what they were, they couldn’t target them.

And because Balens didn’t see them, he couldn’t even describe what it was he wanted removed to enough accuracy for the wish to activate.

It was the flaw in his greatest strength.

Wishes had to be clear.

He couldn’t cast a net and hope to catch the problem.

He had to know exactly what he was asking for.

Kain filed that information away so hard it practically engraved itself into his bones.

This…

This would definitely come in handy.

Meanwhile, Aegis continued to suffer.

One of his arms was now completely numb from the repeated shocks of spiritual interference. His footing remained shaky. And despite blocking half a dozen attacks with his body and trying to raise shields made of stone, his movements were now stiff and awkward.

Kain winced as Aegis missed again, his counterblow swinging too wide and leaving him open to another jab in his torso

The Starweaver practically danced now.

It parried, twirled, and glimmered with every step. If it had a voice, it would be singing.

Another rock was randomly launched at Aegis from the ground. Kain didn’t even know where it came from.

“I hate fate,” he muttered. ‘Well…unless I’m the one in control of it…’ he corrected, thinking about his fate-based spiritual skill. Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough proficiency in Threads of Destiny to influence fate at all, only read it. He made a mental note to focus more on practicing it, once this tournament was over.

Still, Kain wasn’t too disheartened; he could tell this wouldn’t last forever.

The more wishes that had been stacked, the stronger the recoil. But even consequences had a limit.

Soon, the buildup would burn out. And thankfully, none of the wishes Serena had made were anything major, just small little wishes for Kain’s contracts to lose their balance or concentration at critical moments.

So soon, as long as they held on, it’d be their turn to go on the offensive again…

Kain’s eyes narrowed at Balens, who was now practically spinning in place, trying to locate the source of his discomfort.

Bea’s black particles wrapped him like mist.

And the more he twisted, the tighter the net grew.