This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange - Chapter 730: 730: Mental Cage

Chapter 730: Chapter 730: Mental Cage

Aegis didn’t even bother raising his arm to block the blow as the passive shield from his Abyssal Foundation skill activated around him.

The Crimson Wraith had emerged behind him again, its shadowy claws slicing forward, but the claws seemed to be repelled merely millimetres away from Aegis’ surface by a black-translucent barrier formed on his body.

The blow from the green-grade Wraith was hardly enough to shake the shield, but before the Wraith even fully withdrew, both the blue-grade Slagbeast and Blood Flame Hound launched powerful strikes at the same time. The hound using its massive jaws, and the Slagbeast manipulating and launching a spear made of blood.

The passive shield absorbed the strike, then cracked, bursting in a sharp ripple that slammed all three backward with a snap of backlash energy.

The two blue-grade contracts were unharmed, but the Wraith was badly hurt.

But despite injuring an opponent, Kain frowned. Aegis’ shield will take a few minutes to regenerate, during which he will be targeted at a numerical disadvantage while having a weaker defence. And all he got in exchange was injuring the weakest opponent…a green-grade spiritual creature that presented no threat to him anyway.

It felt like trading away a castle wall to bruise a gnat. He hated that math. It was a bad deal.

Meanwhile, Bea was nowhere to be seen. Her Pale Thought Field was still in place, and the Slagbeast was no longer acting like a drain on the entire field, allowing it to once again spread throughout the arena.

But Kain could feel it through their link. She was not deploying the splits at all in the other opponents. Currently, the deployed field was serving no purpose.

Even more off-putting is that Kain’s ability to communicate with Bea has reduced over time. It was now like trying to talk to her over a set of old walkie-talkies where most of the words were cut out by static.

Inside the mind of the Hemogloom Slagbeast, Bea’s true body floated in a space that felt like a butchered dream. Moreover, she found the majority of her abilities, and even her connection to her own mental field, outside of the beast, to be cut off. She had never encountered something like this. Not even during the various intense Order missions in the past.

This thing didn’t just resist mental intrusion. It metabolized it.

It liked the taste.

She tried pulling back, but too late. The Slagbeast had digested thousands of her splits already. It had sampled enough of her spiritual “flavour” to start mimicking it. As if it could evolve.

That’s when the internal terrain shifted.

An echo pulsed from somewhere deeper inside. It wasn’t a defensive reflex—it was a lure.

Something about the space itself twisted to mimic a warm body of spring water. An environment that resembled where she was born and first met Kain. An environment that made her feel… safe.

Kain’s voice cut through.

“Bea…no fall…trap.” Many of the words were cut out, but Bea guessed that he was trying to convey not falling for the sense of comfort, it’s likely a trap—not that the warning was necessary.

Bea hissed mentally, irritated more than scared. “I’m not dumb.”

The terrain twisted again.

New mental images emerged—memories not hers, but eerily familiar.

It had eaten Spiric Mice. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Mice, known for their high mental corruption ability. Bea was now facing a corrupted field that she could sense might swallow her whole with the slightest misstep.

And worse still, it wasn’t just trying to trap her. It was trying to understand her. Mimic her thoughts. Learn.

She shrank down, coiling her presence. Testing.

Then she darted away.

For now, she couldn’t engage. She had to wait for an opening.

———————

Outside, the Slagbeast creaked forward. One leg at a time, the weight of its blood-ore body gouging faint lines into the arena floor. The ribcage on its torso had cracked open again, and a steady stream of blood was rising upward—not spilling, but spiraling into the air like reversed mist.

The crowd recoiled.

Even the announcers hesitated.

Then something small, sticky, and almost too round to take seriously bobbed into view.

Chewy.

The spore had attached itself to Aegis’ back like a multicoloured tumour, absorbing waves of excess energy from the barrage of attacks. Every slash, every blast, every environmental ripple—he sucked it up.

He jiggled once. Then twice.

And made a faint chirping noise that could only be described as enthusiastic.

Kain’s eyes twitched. “Any second now…”

The Slagbeast raised its front limb.

The Blood Flame Hound opened its giant jaw to swallow the tiny pest that dared stand in its way.

And Chewy—

FWOOOMPH.

—a deep, wet fart-like ripped through the stage. An explosion of stored energy, compressed to the size of a marble and then released all at once, detonated like a bomb mere inches from the Blood Flame Hound and Slagbeast.

The Crimson Wraith, already injured, was the furthest away but was still flung sideways with a shriek, its shadowy body torn partially into vapour. The closest Blood Flame Hound was thrown straight up into the air and flew several meters backward, before slamming into the ground to make a small crater. The strongest Slagbeast didn’t get thrown back too far, but stumbled a few steps backward, the blood at its ribs flaring erratically.

For the first time in a while, Kain grinned. “Thanks, Chewy.”

He pointed. “Aegis. The hound.” At least they had an opportunity to take one opponent out.

The golem moved without hesitation.

He tore across the battlefield, seized the still-recovering Blood Flame Hound by the throat, and slammed it down hard enough that the crater formed from where it initially fell instantly doubled in width. His fist came down a half-second later, reinforced by earth energy—no flashy skill, no grand attack. Just raw weight.

The hound howled in pain.

From the stands, even students from other schools winced.

“Damn,” one of the stadium announcers muttered. “That has gotta hurt.”