This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 900: Chapter 900: Skill Malfunction?

The next couple of days that followed were quiet, almost deceptively so. The fortress at the frozen frontier was a place where time bled together—a cycle of battle, repair, and grim endurance. Kain had wandered nearly every corridor, memorized the placement of wards, watched the tamers rotate shifts at the wall. Despite all that, nothing he found explained why Amos Sans had once come here. No secret chambers, no unique formations—just snow, ice, blood, and more snow.

Serena spent her time differently. She joined the combat rotations, fighting alongside the wall defenders during assaults, her heirloom bow and arrow glowing with starlight as she struck down the mid-grade and lower Abyssals with one blow.

Due to her gift of nearly inexhaustible spiritual power, she could fight far longer than others—but her gift did not ward off mental fatigue. So when she was not fighting and taking a ’break’, she could often still be seen helping the medics and logistics teams, transporting supplies and aiding the wounded between skirmishes.

Her contracts also got involved, and the reputation of an extremely beautiful but powerful girl quickly spread. Naturally, many young men wanted to get to know her, but her cold demeanour kept them a thousand feet away.

Even an 8-star tamer called her aside to talk. The summons came without explanation, and as she followed him down the corridor, the air seemed to grow heavier. The others nearby went silent—no one ignored a call from a Colonel-level (8-stars) beast tamer.

Serena followed the Colonel, who looked to be in his thirties (but given the slower aging as one improves in strength, he could be several decades older than that), into his office and the door shut firmly behind them, making sure no nosey passerby could hear or see what they were talking about.

————————-

Moments later, as Kain was covertly continuing his investigations for what Amos may have done or left behind in this fort, he overheard a pair of young men talking near the mess hall.

“Did you hear? That new girl—Serena, I think her name is—they say even Colonel Jiang is interested in her. No chance for anyone else now.” Another sighed, half in awe, half in defeat. “Can’t blame him though… she’s the talk of the entire fort.”

A gust of wind whipped past them, scattering their words into silence. One of them blinked, staring down the empty hall where Kain had just vanished, running so fast he was little more than a blur.

Kain’s heart pounded when he heard this. A cold, irrational anger rose in his chest, and before he realized it, his feet were already moving. He tore through the corridors, the wind from his speed scattering papers and startling soldiers as he passed.

He told himself that he was so panicked because he didn’t want his ’friend’ to be ’bullied’ by someone so powerful. That was all.

Kain slammed the door open, startling both Serena and the Colonel inside. The older man frowned at Kain’s insolence but then noticed the shift in Serena’s expression—the aloof calm melting into visible surprise and faint amusement.

Then, looking at Kain huffing and puffing in the doorway, Colonel Jiang seemed to have come to some grand realization and instead of blowing up at Kain, he leaned back with a bemused smile. “You must be the young man she’s been rooming with,” he said dryly. Naturally he’d already investigated Serena and knew about her roommate of the opposite sex. “I assure you, boy, I meant only to invite your girlfriend to meet my granddaughter. She’s about Serena’s age and quite lonely here.”

Kain blinked, momentarily stunned. He’d been prepared for something entirely different—an old cow wanting to eat young grass—but instead, the Colonel had simply wanted a playmate for his grandchild. His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before Serena spoke first, tone lightly teasing. “Kain, what got you so panicked?”

Her lips curved faintly upward, eyes dancing with amusement. Even the Colonel chuckled under his breath, watching the ’young couple’.

Kain stammered, face heating. “I—I just came to ask what you wanted for dinner. They’re serving something hot tonight since it’s one of the few days without dry rations, and I figured I’d… bring it… to you…” He trailed off weakly, the excuse sounding weak even to him.

Neither Serena nor the Colonel looked convinced. The older man’s smile widened knowingly, while Serena covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

“I’ll… go check on that then,” Kain muttered, retreating quickly, his ears burning. The door shut behind him, and the Colonel chuckled again. “Interesting young man,” he said, shaking his head. “Ah! About my precious Ming Ming…”

——————

The amusement from the day’s events dispersed once they were alone later that night in their living quarters. Both were still unused to sharing a room with the other.

Serena barely spoke, her silence a shield between them. The awkwardness of sharing a room lingered like frost that wouldn’t melt.

Tonight though, perhaps mentally reluctant to remain after his earlier ’over-reaction’ to Serena being called away alone, Kain sat alone atop the outer ramparts, the wind biting at his face. His breath came in small clouds as he focused his mind. It was time to test something he hadn’t yet used in fear that its use would be detected by those high-level figures in the fortress—the Threads of Destiny.

But after continuously searching with no success, he was now desperate.

He exhaled, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, thousands of threads of faint light extended from his body, moving outward into the dark, where they led to unseen. Each one signifying whether what laid at the end of that thread would be good, bad, or neutral for him. Or at least they were supposed to…

“Huh?!” Kain couldn’t help exclaiming aloud.

Because every thread was the same identical shade of slate grey. Every. Single. One.

Normally, there would be variation—thin white strands for a good opportunity, thick black cords for extreme danger, countless shades of grey for everything in between. Each one shimmered with subtle distinctions, minute shades that he could read like a map of probability.

But now—they were all the same.

Every single thread. Dozens, hundreds—a vast web stretching into the frozen horizon—all one uniform, neutral shade of grey. Not lighter, not darker. Perfectly identical.

Kain blinked in confusion. Then deactivated the skill, closing his eyes and then reactivated it again. He had all the troubleshooting ability of an elderly person trying to fix a clearly damaged computer by simply turning it on and off.

Naturally, it didn’t work…

He tested it again, focusing on a passing guard below—slate grey. A torch—slate grey. A stone at his feet—slate grey.

The same neutral colour didn’t change.

That shouldn’t be possible.

He remembered when he first learned this ability. He had once tested it on absurd things—which brand of cereal in the college dorm cafeteria had a slightly better outcome for the day ahead.

But even then, there had been slight differences!

One brand’s thread had been a faintly lighter shade, and later he discovered it contained trace drops of a rare fruit extract—barely noticeable but genuinely healthier. The tiniest differences always mattered. Luck and causality responded to everything.

Yet here, everything was the same shade—an exact, impossible balance between fortune and doom.

His pulse quickened. For such uniformity to exist, something had to be interfering. Either the uniqueness of this environment didn’t allow for fate to be easily read…or someone extremely powerful was preventing the use of this skill.

“A demigod,” he whispered. The word felt heavy in the air.

The discovery sent a chill deeper than the wind. He dismissed the threads with a thought and turned back toward the living quarters.

———————-

When he opened the door to their small room, Serena was awake. She sat at the desk, a dim crystal lamp casting her silhouette against the wall. She was polishing Balens, the scale’s metal face frozen in a blissful expression , though her shoulders were slightly hunched from fatigue.

Kain hesitated by the door. The silence stretched again—that same uneasy quiet that always settled between them.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Could say the same for you,” she replied, not looking up.

He stepped closer, then reached into his coat pocket. From within, he pulled out a small object wrapped in soft cloth and placed it gently on the desk.

Serena frowned and unwrapped it. The moment the brooch came into view, she froze.

It was her mother’s.

The fractured metal was seamless now, every intricate curve restored to perfection. But the indigo light that once pulsed softly at its center was faint, flickering like a candle that could be blown out easily.

“You—” her voice caught. “You got it fixed?”

Kain nodded. “The dwarves did their best. The damage to the structure wasn’t as hard to repair as expected since it doesn’t have any powerful offensive or defensive effects… but the energy inside—that part can’t be restored.”

She stared at it, her reflection trembling in the dim gem’s surface.

“There’s still a little power left,” Kain added softly. “A trace of her energy. I’m… sorry that I took so much. Sorry, it couldn’t be more.”

For a long moment, Serena said nothing. Then, slowly, her fingers curled around the brooch, holding it close. Her eyes shimmered faintly, and though her expression didn’t change, her voice was thick when she spoke. “Thank you.”

Kain opened his mouth to say something—to brush it off, to tease her—but the words never came.

The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward this time.

The faint light from the brooch danced across her eyes like melting frost, and he felt something warm stir in his chest—something that made the endless grey of the fortress seem a little less cold.

Then, suddenly, something soft and warm that smelled faintly of frost and flowers brushed against him. His eyes widened in surprise as it collided with his chest, a gentle weight trembling before stilling as he raised his own arms to wrap around her.