This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

For the first time in what felt like forever, Kain felt the familiar nausea that came with teleportation. After repeatedly jumping between locations for Order missions—and even being whisked away by the relic's transportations—he was no stranger to the sensation. But this time was different.

The unpleasant lurch in his gut, which usually lasted mere seconds—more often over in the blink of an eye—dragged on for what felt like minutes, maybe even hours.

Time lost all meaning in that void of sensation. Kain's stomach revolted, his throat burning with bile as his body was pulled through space like a ragdoll. He tried to scream, but the airless environment swallowed the sound before it could leave his lips.

His body felt twisted, turned, pulled, stretched, and compressed, like a leaf caught in a hurricane, his senses scrambled. It was the world's worst roller coaster, and there was no way off.

Then—finally—solid ground beneath his feet.

Kain sucked in a breath and opened his eyes.

Nothing.

Pitch black. Not the dim gloom of a cave or the soft dark of night—Kain had never seen a darkness so thick. It practically pressed against his skin like a physical entity, cold and suffocating. When he waved his hand in front of his face, he couldn't even see the motion—only pure darkness.

He fumbled in his space ring and pulled out a light orb, a standard item that all beast-tamers that ventured into the wilderness would have. It could outshine any flashlight, its 'charge' was also much longer than any battery could hope to have, and it could spontaneously recharge itself by absorbing spiritual power from the environment. It was the perfect tool.

The second Kain pulled out the orb, its intense glow should have bathed the room in light.

Instead, the orb illuminated nothing but his own hands. Even Kain's body remained shrouded in darkness. The light appeared to be swallowed whole by the surrounding darkness.

Kain's pulse spiked. What kind of place absorbs light like this?

He shoved the orb back into his ring. If it couldn't help, it might as well just be a beacon painting a target on his back for whatever lurked here. The thought of unseen eyes watching from that impenetrable darkness made his skin crawl. Were there things moving in the blackness? Or was his mind playing tricks? He couldn't tell—and that was worse.

"Serena?" he whispered.

No reply.

He called again, louder. "Serena!"

Silence.

Then—

Click.

A mechanical whirr shuddered through the floor. The sound was deafening after the absolute silence.

The ground beneath him lurched forward, carrying him in a certain direction like a conveyor belt. Kain staggered, then instinctively walked against the motion. No use. The belt stretched endlessly in either direction, and no matter how far he veered left or right, there was no edge he could climb off of to escape being brought to this mystery destination.

He broke into a sprint, pushing against the movement—only for the belt to accelerate, matching his pace effortlessly.

'I feel like I'm being herded.' Kain thought in irritation. Although there was no indication that whatever awaited him was dangerous, there was also no indication that it was safe…

Not to mention, not being able to see anything did not help with his feelings of anxiety.

Eventually, the uncontrollable movement forward came to a grinding halt, and almost immediately, light was returned to Kain's world.

Unfortunately, the sudden intensity of the overhead lights burned like miniature suns, searing Kain's vision white. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks as his pupils struggled to adjust. The sudden shift from suffocating darkness to blinding light left him disoriented, his head pounding.

When he finally blinked through the glare, the world came into sharp clarity.

Seven figures, aside from himself, stood in a sterile, cavernous room.

Closest to him—Serena. Her silver-white hair gleamed under the harsh lights like a halo, her posture tense but controlled. She met his gaze briefly, a flicker of relief passing through her icy blue eyes before she schooled her expression back into neutrality.

Beside her stood a familiar, unwelcome sight: Cassian Lysander. The blonde crown prince's green eyes scanned the room with calculated disinterest, though the slight arrogant smirk on his lips revealed his confidence even when in this strange situation.

His pristine academy uniform—emblazoned with the crest of First Celestial—looked untouched by whatever trials he'd had to go through to get to this point.

And next to him was a girl with pale violet-tinged hair and pupil-less white eyes. She stood unnervingly still, almost unnoticeable like a statue, her posture eerily perfect. Her uniform matched Cassian's, marking her as another student from the capital's elite academy. But unlike the prince, her gaze held no arrogance—only an eerie hollowness in her pupil-less eyes.

Who the hell is she?

Before Kain could dwell, his attention snapped to the remaining four figures.

They all wore clothing unlike anything he'd seen before. Three wore various shades and patterns from the same style. The style was a fusion of the modern attire common in the Empire but mixed with intricate fabrics and patterns that reminded Kain of traditional Eastern clothing back on earth. Flowing sleeves embroidered with celestial motifs, high-collared jackets with knotted closures, and pants tucked into sleek boots. Their postures were guarded, eyes sharp as they assessed the room.

Serena, likely sensing his confusion, leaned closer to him, her voice barely audible. "Eastern Continent."

Kain nodded. He'd never met anyone from across the sea, but their attire matched the few descriptions he'd read about them.

Then—

The last figure.

A boy, who appeared no older than him, stood apart from the others. His hair wasn't just blond—it was gold, shimmering like molten metal under the lights. His eyes, too, burned a radiant, unnatural gold, the colour like orbs of liquid sunlight.

The golden-haired boy stood apart from the others like a statue bathed in divine light. His white robes seemed to glow under the harsh illumination, the fabric so pristine it appeared untouched by mortal hands. Intricate golden embroidery snaked across the garment in elaborate patterns—celestial constellations, blooming lotuses, and sigils Kain didn't recognize but instinctively knew held power.

Jewels adorned the robe's edges—small, perfect jewels resembling diamonds and topazes sewn into the stitching, catching the light with every slight movement, and giving the boy an image similar to a sparkling filter or special effect. A wide sash of woven gold thread cinched his waist, the ends trailing nearly to the floor like liquid sunlight. Even his sleeves, though tailored to perfectly fit him, flowed with an unnatural grace.

He was the first man Kain had ever seen that could hold a candle to, or maybe even faintly surpass, Serena in the looks department.

He wasn't handsome. One could more accurately describe him as 'beautiful'—almost inhumanely so, to the point where it felt more uncanny than admirable.

That felt more like a thing than a human.

Kain couldn't help continuing to scrutinize the golden-haired boy—not that his actions stood out since pretty much everyone was staring at him.

Under the intense lights, the boy's golden hair was practically like a beacon for attention.

No matter how much those wanting to suck up to the royals described the Lysander family's blonde hair as "golden," Kain had to admit that Cassian looked like washed out pale wheat compared to the luxurious colour on the opponent.

Cassian's usual smirk was gone, replaced by a wary tension as he stared at the 'golden boy'. But Kain doubted it was due to jealousy over the boy's hair colour.

The Eastern Continent delegates had subtly shifted away from the 'golden boy', their hands hovering near hidden weapons. Even the white-eyed girl had tilted her head, her blank stare fixed on him with unsettling intensity.

But despite the excessive attention, the 'golden boy' smiled.

It was a small curve of his lips, effortless and serene—but the room seemed to change with it. The air hummed, the light bending toward him as if drawn to him in reverence. Shadows retreated from his presence, and for a fleeting moment, the sterile chamber felt less like a relic's trial and more like a holy temple—one where the golden boy was the deity on the altar.

There was no arrogance in that smile. No pride. Only a quiet certainty, as if he knew truths the rest of them could never grasp.

And when he spoke, his voice was soft, melodic, hymn-like sound.

"It seems we are the chosen few."

The Eastern Continent delegates tensed slightly. Cassian's fingers twitched toward the hilt of his sword and even the pupil-less girl narrowed her eyes at the slightest movement from him.

Kain's looked at the weird atmosphere with growing confusion. From what he could tell, there were 4 representatives from the Celestial Empire, 3 from the East, and only 1 from wherever the 'golden boy' was from.

And yet, despite their huge numerical advantage, Kain couldn't help noting that Cassian and the others seemed to treat the 'golden boy' like the biggest threat here.

Who was he?