This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 748: Chapter 748: Man and Machine

Honestly, Kain wasn’t too sure what he should feel guilty about, but knew based on her father’s expression that it was only Serena’s presence that was preventing a beat down

After getting caught doing…something. They walked in silence for a while, Kain desperately pretending he wasn’t imagining the variety of ways Lord Storm could end his life in a second if he so wished. Serena, of course, looked utterly unbothered—like she hadn’t just witnessed Kain nearly get visually vapourised into the cobblestones.

Eventually, they arrived at a quieter intersection on the far side of the plaza, where the noise faded and the air felt clearer. A decorative fountain burbled quietly in the center of a stonework circle.

Waiting there was Pheneos.

He stood straight at their approach and held something up—a familiar metallic device engraved with softly glowing runes.

Kain’s stomach dropped.

A temporary teleportation gate. He recognized the cursed invention as he remembered the sickening sensation of using it to teleport during his first ever Black Mission. Hopefully, this model would allow for smoother transport than the last time.

His stomach began to churn in anticipation.

Before he could speak, Pheneos raised a hand. “My teacher isn’t here. It is currently inconvenient for him to leave his lab so we will be teleporting to his location. Unfortunately, though, the stability of the gate is assured for only three entries…including myself”

Kain stared at him not understanding the problem until it clicked—

“Only two of us can go with you?” he asked, tone incredulous.

Pheneos had no sympathy “Well, I did only give permission for you to bring one person.”

A large and firm hand slammed down on Kain’s shoulder—hard.

“Well it only makes sense that I be the one to go with you.”

With a creaky neck and a stomach full of dread, Kain slowly looked at the origin of the voice. But he was unable to come up with a valid refusal. After all, Serena’s father was the main figure to ensure his safety this time. Serena was moreso there to just ease the tension between the two…

The teleportation gate pulsed—faint at first, then louder. Its rhythm vibrated through the soles of Kain’s boots, rising up into his spine like a warning tremor. Pheneos stood at its edge, each rune lighting in sequence with a low, mechanical hum.

Kain stood frozen, dead-eyed and dying internally.

Serena waved at him from a safe distance, smiling entirely too amused.

“Good luck,” she said sweetly.

It was absolutely not sweet.

He had a sneaking suspicious that she was enjoying this. She knew what this meant for him—being alone, unsupervised, and possibly one snide comment away from death due to her father.

Kain nodded stiffly. “Thanks.”

Her smirk widened.

He felt a hand land on his shoulder—firm, heavy, painful. The kind of grip that conveyed total command over life and death.

“I trust you have no objections,” Lord Storm said flatly.

Kain coughed once. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Pheneos, wisely choosing to avoid all the tension, gestured toward the circle of runes. “We’ll arrive at the designated point in a few seconds. Brace yourselves.”

Kain’s stomach did a small, anticipatory backflip. The memory of his first time using a temporary teleportation gate was etched deep in his body—a full-body rejection of the concept of ‘temporary gates.’ His soul had nearly evacuated last time.

Still, he stepped onto the ring, Lord Storm beside him.

The light surged upward in a column of magic. Pressure compressed his lungs. The world vanished.

—And reassembled itself in the most unpleasant way imaginable.

Kain landed on his knees with a choked wheeze, throat burning. His inner ear had declared war on his sense of direction. His stomach lurched with betrayal, violently objecting to interdimensional twisting.

‘Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Don’t you dare give him a reason to look down on you.’

He swallowed hard, clinging to dignity by the thinnest of threads.

Lord Storm stood beside him like he had just stepped off a casual escalator. Not a wrinkle in his coat or slight sign of discomfort.

Kain staggered upright, suppressing a groan.

His vision cleared.

And what he saw nearly made him forget the nausea.

They were in a cavern. But unlike any natural formation.

The walls shimmered—curved plates of seamless alloy interlaced with rock. Pipes slithered between crevices like living roots, pulsing with bioluminescent fluids. The air hissed softly with moving steam and the occasional hiss of pressurized valves. Everything here was both organic and mechanical. Strange flora grew between metallic seams—thick vines curled around steel pillars, their leaves edged with what looked like etched circuitry.

Kain turned slowly, trying to process it. “This place somehow feels like a machine…and alive.”

The corridor bent forward into a wider chamber. As they advanced, the air grew colder. Faint mist clung to the floor.

They stepped into a wide central room—circular and perfectly symmetrical. Eight massive conduits jutted out from the walls like spinal cords, each one vibrating with a deep, pulsing energy. Machinery turned softly in the shadows.

In the center of the room was a raised platform made of spiralling metal tendrils, almost like fingers cradling a pedestal.

And seated upon that pedestal was a machine.

Or… something like one.

Kain’s breath caught.

It was humanoid in outline, vaguely. Its arms were too long, its spine curved too deeply. Machinery twisted across its frame—seamless plating with wires that pulsed like veins. But there were patches of skin. Flesh. Human flesh, tucked between mechanical sockets and armor plates like an afterthought.

And in the center of its torso—framed by coils of copper tubing—was a face.

A human face.

Half-fused to the chassis, but undeniably real. One side was scarred, the jaw reinforced with steel, but the other side was… familiar.

Kain’s mind reeled.

“…Dorian Anvil?” he whispered.

The single intact eye on the face blinked.

A soft chime echoed from the platform.

Then a voice—raspy, partially modulated through ancient speakers—answered.

“Kain Newman. Long time no see.”

Kain took an unconscious step back, horror and confusion warring across his expression. “What the hell happened to you?”

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