This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 774: Chapter 774: An Overwhelming Aura

For a moment after the referee’s call, the arena remained in a stunned hush, as if the crowd’s collective mind needed to catch up to what they had just witnessed. Then, all at once, the silence fractured. The noise that followed was not polite applause—it was a rolling wall of sound, a thunderclap of approval and disbelief that made the giant viewing screens broadcasting the stage tremble in their frames.

Kain exhaled slowly, his gaze still on the empty space where the Phoenix-Harpy had been moments ago. Chewy was drifting toward his arm in a lazy arc—though there was nothing lazy about what Kain needed next.

“Chewy,” he murmured, low and sharp.

The spore gave a questioning pulse before snapping to attention, realizing with his reminder that it had a job to do!. Its body began to glow faintly, expanding slightly as it drew in the lingering scraps of spiritual energy from the battlefield.

Not just the obvious remnants—the faint afterburn of the Phoenix’s flames, the cold bite of the Harpy’s wind, and the scattered fragments of energy from the Domain of Delirium’s collapse—but also the subtler traces that clung to the air and ground, invisible to anyone that wasn’t extremely sensitive to energy.

“Everything you can get,” Kain ordered. “Do not stop until you are about to burst.”

Chewy complied with almost comical seriousness, inhaling streams of energy until it looked like a swollen ball of a variety of colours—but mostly red (likely due to all of the infernal energy).

Then, without waiting for a command, it pulsed, releasing the stored energy in controlled bursts—refuelling Aegis, Vauleth, and Bea one after the other. Aegis straightened slightly, the cracks in his stone surface closing over. Vauleth’s tail flicked, renewed vigour returning to his wings. Bea’s presence sharpened, her mental threads thrumming with new strength.

Only once the others were stabilized did Chewy funnel the last portion into Kain himself. The effect was immediate—his mind felt clearer, his spiritual circuits humming with responsiveness again.

Across the arena, Isolde was already making her exit. She didn’t bow or speak, but the tight line of her jaw told its own story. The match had been decisive, and she knew it.

Part of her was kicking herself. Cassian had warned her to be wary of the second-year duo for whatever reason. She still had one last trump card she didn’t use. Couldn’t use. Because it required at least 3 of her contracts to be present, and they’d gotten taken out shortly after their fusion broke.

’Sigh…if only I could go back in time…’ She thought. Unfortunately, she would not be able to compete against him for a rematch next year. But something in her gut told her that an opportunity to avenge herself would come up in the future…

The announcer’s voice boomed again, clearly leaning into the drama. “What a monumental upset for the Blackheart prodigy! Kain Newman had quickly dismantled two of her high-level fusions!”

From the Dark Moon section, Serena had just sat up from where she’d been resting to recover, genuine happiness lighting her features as she applauded Kain’s win. Jade leaned forward with a rare, approving nod, while Theo exchanged a glance with Reed, the two veterans murmuring in low tones in admiration about the precision of Kain’s dismantling of Isolde’s fusions.

However, up in the Dark Moon viewing section where the rest of the non-competing team members sat, not all reactions were as purely happy for Kain’s great performance. The fourth years’ reactions were similar to those below. Dmitri’s grin mirrored Oliver’s satisfaction, as they revelled in the idea that their college may finally claim first place.

But…the reactions of the other years was much more complicated.

Among the second-years not on stage, the mood had a competitive edge—Soren’s jaw was set as if already plotting how to surpass Kain, and Kairos and Dwayne exchanged unsettled glances, quietly grappling with the gap in power. They didn’t love the idea of being compared to the monsters Serena and Kain (and maybe one can even add Soren), for the next 2 years before they graduate.

However, the third-years looked the most tense of all, their eyes fixed on the stage with a mix of frustration and unease. Kyria, the current number 1 third-year was ecstatic when she was the fourth 6‑star beast tamer in the school, certain that she would be able to compete. But that was before Kain and Serena displaced her. She watched the excellent performance of the second year duo stiffly, her jaw tight. Beside her, Rhiannon’s frown was edged with bitterness—once first in their year, she had recently been overtaken by Kyria, and now even younger students were outpacing her despite all her hard work. The other three in their year—Alexei, Jin, and Cressida—could sense that Kyria and Rhiannon were in no mood for conversation, quietly making mental notes to avoid provoking them and risk becoming targets for their frustration.

And at a stand outside of the arena, after cheering briefly for his friend’s victory, Elias was now in full showman mode—standing on top of an overturned crate like it was a podium, waving papers with a variety of betting categories available in one hand and yelling through a portable mic about payout rates and “limited-time all‑time high wagers” so loudly it nearly drowned out the cheers leaking out from the arena. His voice carried over the milling crowd, mixing salesmanship with the kind of mock urgency that made passersby instinctively slow down to listen. A few students from rival schools were already craning their necks, trying to see what all the fuss was about, while a few civilians actually stepped forward to make some bets.

Kain stayed on the field, his posture steady but his senses keyed to the next challenge. His breathing had already leveled, yet the faint buzz of restored energy still threaded through his veins—Chewy’s little gift after gorging itself on the remnants of battle. Out of the corner of his eye, movement at the far end drew his attention.

Cassian Lysanders was stepping onto the stage.

They had met before, but never like this—never as opponents. Which is maybe why he’d found the crown prince not that intimidating. If anything, he’d been less than impressed by who was supposed to be the greatest talent of their generation.

But Cassian’s usual calm and polite demeanour was gone, replaced by the steady, unblinking focus of a predator. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes… his eyes locked on Kain with the unspoken certainty of someone who knew that he’d win.

Kain hated to admit it, but the sweat building up beneath his shirt was not due to the intense stadium lights or the exertion from the last match, but rather due to the feeling reminiscent of being stared at by an apex predator.

The aura rolling off of him was profoundly wrong for his star level—too dense, too sharp, too heavy, pressing down on Kain like a tidal wave of killing intent. It was the kind of oppressive, instinct‑stirring force he’d only felt in the presence of the most dangerous 7‑star tamers he had ever encountered, a suffocating weight that made the air between them feel tighter with every step Cassian took forward.

For the briefest moment, a shiver traced down Kain’s spine.

And almost as bad as his raw power, Kain knew that Cassian also carried the legacy of a deceased world—the Verdara inheritance. Both Kain and Serena were still barely scratching the surface of their own inheritances, feeling like explorers who had only mapped the shoreline of a vast continent. Kain estimated he’d glimpsed perhaps five percent of what the Earth inheritance could truly do. Maybe not even that….

He didn’t know Serena’s exact progress in exploring her inheritance, shackled by the mental restrictions that made detailed discussion with each other impossible. But he was pretty sure that she was in much the same place—hovering just beyond the threshold, aware that untapped depths remained far beyond reach.

For them, the potential was there, but still dormant.

For Cassian, Kain suspected the situation might be very different.

Even if he was bound by the same silence about what had transpired in the inheritance relic, Cassian was the Crown Prince of the empire. Whatever Kain thought of his intelligence when they’d first met (which was honestly a little concerning considering his future power), the prince commanded an entire nation’s resources—anything and everything he might need to unlock that power at a pace Kain and Serena couldn’t yet match.

’Sigh…let’s just hope that he is just a lost when it comes to his inheritance as Serena and I are. Otherwise…’

The announcer’s voice, amplified through the arena’s speakers, cut through the tension, calling the next match to the stage.

“Phase Two’s next 1v1—Kain Newman of Dark Moon College versus Cassian Lysanders of First Celestial College!”

The roar of the crowd swelled again, the sound chasing them both toward the heart of the battlefield.