This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

On Pangea…

The bipedal feline Starveil Night Lynx stood frozen in the center of Aurem’s massive cavern, both front paws wrapped tightly around the bowl of ‘sacred liquid’, her claws digging into its smooth rim as though it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.

Lord Aurem was gone.

And she was still alive.

A shaky breath escaped her chest, then another, each one coming faster than the last as the tension she had been holding snapped loose all at once. Her legs weakened, forcing her to brace herself against the edge of the stone cavern wall as the delayed terror drained out of her body.

She had truly believed she was about to die.

She had spilled the sacred liquid. Just a few drops. But in this place, under this tyrant, such a mistake could have been fatal. She had felt it with absolute certainty in that moment—the certainty of a prey animal whose instincts screamed that a predator was paying attention to it.

Yet nothing had happened.

No roar. No crushing descent. No claw reducing her to a smear on the stone.

Relief surged through her, dizzying and overwhelming.

‘I’m saved.’

The thought echoed again and again, her mind clinging to it like a lifeline. For whatever reason, the tyrant was gone and she was alive.

She stood there for several minutes, barely daring to breathe, waiting for reality to correct itself and prove her wrong.

It never did.

The cavern remained still.

And slowly—far more slowly than the relief had arrived—that relief began to rot.

Fear crept back in, colder and sharper than before.

Because Lord Aurem, despite his tyranny, was also her only lifeline.

Starveil’s gaze drifted toward the cavern entrance, then beyond it, toward the unseen world outside this domain.

Not long ago, Pangea had broken.

The planet itself had screamed under wave after wave of catastrophe. Mountains had split open without warning. Rivers had surged out of their banks, drowning entire regions overnight. Storms had torn across the land with no pattern or mercy, flattening forests and stripping the ground bare.

No one knew why.

There had been no prophecy, no omen, no divine warning. Only destruction layered upon destruction until survival itself became something rare.

The numbers whispered among the survivors were grim.

Nearly seventy percent of Pangea’s population was gone.

Mostly the weak. Which would have included her.

Her strength was mediocre at best, her cultivation shallow compared to the others qualified to follow Aurem. Few creatures at her level had survived the disasters. Most had been buried, drowned, torn apart, or simply erased when the land itself turned hostile.

And yet she still remained.

Because she had lived here.

Because she had lived under Lord Aurem’s protection.

Everywhere else on Pangea had suffered devastation, yet this territory—Lord Aurem’s territory—had remained untouched. No earthquakes cracked the ground beneath their feet. No floods reached their borders. No storms howled above their heads.

While the world burned, this place had remained an oasis.

She looked down at herself, at her slender frame and unimpressive claws, and felt the weight of reality press in. Without Lord Aurem, she would not last long. Not out there. Not in a world where only strength or protection kept death at bay.

Starveil was not powerful. She was not a warrior. She was not a fearsome beast capable of standing alongside the great underlings that served Aurem.

But she was useful. That’s why she could remain by his side.

Her Gift allowed her to see what others could not—veins of ore buried miles beneath the earth, gemstones hidden behind layers of stone, metals concealed even within strange regions that interfered with even Lord Aurem’s senses.

To her eyes, anything valuable gleamed like a star against the night.

Dragons loved treasure.

Naturally, Lord Aurem loved finding treasure.

Since her arrival, his hoard had grown at a pace that left the other attendants in quiet awe. Entire chambers had been filled with newly uncovered wealth. Even deposits in land they’d scoured hundreds of time, had been uncovered by her because she could see them.

She was not powerful.

But she was profitable.

The thought brought with it a bitter sort of comfort.

‘With my Gift… he probably wouldn’t have killed me.’

The overconfident idea felt almost treacherous, but it lingered. She replayed the moment she had stumbled, the liquid spilling, her certainty that death was seconds away.

Maybe she had judged him unfairly.

Judged a kind and benevolent lord through a wicked lens.

And now, before she could find him heaps of treasure in repentance, he was gone.

Time passed strangely after that.

Only hours had slipped by to Kain and Aurem, but on Pangea, days had passed. And with each passing day, Aurem’s absence became harder to ignore.

The oasis was failing.

The air felt thinner, less vibrant. A subtle vitality drained from the land, as though something essential had been removed. Starveil noticed it first in the personal garden Lord Aurem had cultivated.

The flowers there were unlike anything else on Pangea—shimmering blossoms grown for beauty alone, alongside plants whose effects were potent enough to warp the surrounding environment. They had always thrived effortlessly under his presence.

Now their leaves browned at the edges.

Petals curled inward.

Even the hardiest specimens began to sag.

Starveil and the other attendants worked desperately, hauling water from the nearby river until their arms shook and their legs burned. They poured it again and again into the soil, but it never seemed to be enough.

It was like trying to hydrate a desert.

Watching the garden die hurt more than she expected. It felt like a foreboding of her own inevitable decline—that without him, this place would collapse just like the rest of the world.

She stood among the wilting flowers, when she felt it.

A pull.

Not physical. But mental.

Like something brushing against her mind.

Starveil’s ears twitched. She turned slowly, heart pounding.

“…Hello?”

A soft glow formed in the air before her, coalescing into a small white sphere that hummed gently, as though waiting for her acknowledgment.

Her breath caught.

“What is that?”

The light flared.

The world vanished.

She stumbled forward—and found herself somewhere else entirely.

She stood outside beneath an open sky, surrounded by towering shapes that made no sense. They rose straight and angular, formed from stone and metal arranged with deliberate intent rather than natural growth.

They were like massive trees with an opening at ground-level that some strange bipedal creatures were walking in and out of.

She froze, disoriented.

Then she felt it.

Pressure.

A hairless creature stood ahead, radiating an aura so overwhelming that her knees nearly buckled. It reminded her of Senior Brother Red Flame Ape in appearance. Like a hairless ape.

But its aura was far stronger. This aura rivalled the strongest generals under Lord Aurem: the missing Lord Black Tortoise, Lady Azure Dragon, Lord Vermillion Bird, and Lord White Tiger.

She fought not to collapse beneath the pressure.

Another hairless one stood nearby. Younger. And he felt strangely familiar…

Recognition struck her like lightning.

‘It’s him!’

The thief!

The one Lord Aurem had warned her about and even conjurred up a detailed image of him using his power to show all his subordinates.

They were supposed to report him immediately if seen.

At the time, and after Aurem’s solemn warnings about him, she’d thought he’d be a big, horrible monster.

But instead of fear, she felt a strange, faint connection to him that made her instinctively hold him in awe.

Then a third hairless ape turned and looked at her.

He smiled.

Brightly.

Goofily.

His eyes sparkled with open curiosity, wonder, and joy.

Starveil stiffened.

That look.

She had seen it before—on Senior Brother Ironhorn Ox whenever he spotted a particularly shapely female Mountain Cow.

Her butt cheeks clenched hard enough to ache.

‘Is this hairless monkey coveting my beauty?!’

The thought nearly made her yelp.

But the strange thought left as quickly as it began.

Because she felt safe.

Safer than she should.

She felt a bond—stronger than with the thief, stronger than with anyone here—that told her this creature was not a threat at all.

And he felt extremely close to her…like a missing parent.

Grrrr

A low growl rolled across the air.

A familiar pressure surged and pressed down on her.

Starveil turned slowly.

Golden scales filled her vision.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

“L-Lord Aurem?!”