This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 849: Chapter 849: A Lopsided Legacy

Kain sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, eyes closed, his breathing even. For once there was no noise—no recruits shouting in training halls, no reports piling on his desk, no distractions. Just silence, and the time to think.

He sifted through everything the Earth inheritance had given him. At first, the sheer scope of it had been overwhelming. Worlds inside of worlds, knowledge without end. But when he measured it against what he needed now—power, immediate and personal—it felt hollow.

The greatest boon hadn’t been for him at all, but for Pangea. Nearly ten billion souls from Earth had crossed into his world.

The World Tree had explained it—each soul was like fuel, like currency. They could be recycled into a new intelligent species without draining Kain’s own SP reserves. Without them, every new elf, dwarf, or intelligent species born in Pangea would have required Kain to create souls from scratch, a process as exhausting as it was costly. But with Earth’s numerous dead souls as raw stock, the burden was eased. Populations flourished. Fertility spiked unnaturally, every cycle birthing more than the last. It wouldn’t last forever—when the ten billion had all been born, the pace would fall back to normal, and Kain would once again have to shoulder the cost of creation. But for now, Pangea thrived.

The World Tree had also done what he asked: it crafted a cultivation method tailored to Pangea-related tamers. It didn’t rely on condensing multiple stars in a star space the way Kain did with the Celestial Empire’s system. Instead, it harmonized directly with Pangea’s contracts. Darius, Gabriel, and the others advanced at a rate that would have been impossible under traditional methods. Their growth was no longer a crawl—it was a sprint.

Then there was knowledge. Earth’s sciences and histories, mundane and miraculous, now were gradually being spread across Pangea.

The World Tree and Bai Lian taught the elves and dwarves, unlocking their newly born minds to make their fledgling societies develop quickly. In months, their societies had leapt forward by centuries. Metallurgy refined, medicine expanded, mathematics flourished. Tools and theories that would have been impossible for them to develop within their own generation were now commonplace.

All of it was impressive. All of it reshaped Pangea.

But when Kain looked inward, measured what he himself had gained? The answer was little. No sudden surge of power. No hidden technique to elevate him beyond the reach of others. No new contract, no help to forming a domain. Nothing that could make him strong enough—now—to stand against what was coming.

Everything he had received was external. Useful, yes, even vital for building an army and sustaining Pangea’s rise. But it was not strength in his own hands. It was not the blade he needed.

Kain opened his eyes, staring at the faint glow of one of the sigils etched into his dorm’s wall, meant to help condense spiritual power. His jaw tightened. The inheritance had given him tools to uplift others, to build. But not to fight. And fight was what he needed most.

For all the grandeur of Earth’s legacy, he was still only a 5-star beast tamer. Still a boy with blue-grade contracts, staring down the Abyss that likely had a legion of high-grade abyssal at its disposal.

And that truth gnawed at him more than anything else.

———————

Next door, while Kain stewed in his dorm over the inheritance’s stingy handouts, Serena hit the floor of her room, body twisting like she’d been hit by a venom spinner’s full dose.

Her nails scraped stone, leaving marks as her back arched, every vein screaming fire. Sweat glued her hair to her face, and she bit back cries, muffling them into the quiet like she was hiding.

This was why her inheritance progress dragged—slower than Kain’s, not a single perk unlocked yet. Every scrap from Thar’Ameth’s fallen civilization is locked behind a trial. And these weren’t easy or harmless tests. No—these hit with pain so raw, so deep, it’d knock her out cold time after time. She wasn’t soft. She wasn’t weak. She’d undergone strict training since young and mingled amongst the terrifying two faced monsters known as ‘high society nobles’. But this? Beyond endurance, like her body was rejecting the power, fighting it tooth and nail.

Until now.

The looming knowledge of the Abyss, the clock ticking down on humanity’s survival, left her no room for hesitation. She’d thrown herself back into the ritual again, and this time, she had forced herself through it. Every convulsion, every scream, every drop of blood she bit from her lip—she endured.

And at last, the torment shifted.

Her hands trembled, violet light seeping from beneath her skin. She gasped, pulling herself to her knees, and when she opened her palm, a faint mist rose from it, curling like smoke. It hissed where it touched the floor, eating into stone.

Poison. Real, spiritual poison—hers. Not borrowed from a beast, not channeled through a contract. The legacy of Thar’Ameth flowing into her veins.

She stared at her hand, chest heaving. It wasn’t just venom she could obtain from this inheritance, she realized. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been an inheritance worth preserving to fight against the Abyss.

The visions burned into her mind told her as much. The Thar’Ameth, humanoid lizards long since extinct, had been creatures of venom, yes—but they had lived on a planet consumed by the Abyss. And in their final years, their shamans had crafted something more than toxins.

She saw glimpses of their ceremonies: warriors scarring themselves with venoms to harden their blood, shamans mixing toxins not to kill but to cleanse, chanting rites that broke down invasive energies.

It struck her with sudden clarity.

This inheritance wasn’t only about poison. It was about resistance. About survival in the face of corruption. Rituals to purify Abyssal taint. Formulas to strip away invasive energies and make the body have a poison strong enough to be inhospitable to any infestation.

Her pulse quickened.

If she mastered this, it wouldn’t just increase her personal combat abilities—it would give her a weapon against the Abyss itself. One that she could hopefully share with others.

Serena let out a shaky breath, sweat pooling on the floor. For the first time, she had a huge edge Kain lacked. A legacy of not just death, but life clinging on. Defying the end.

The Thar’Ameth might be dust, but through her? They’d bite back.