This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange - Chapter 921

Chapter 921: Chapter 921: Missing Fortune
The moment the true demigod stepped through the golden breach, the relic shuddered like a dying beast inhaling its last breath. Walls expanded and contracted in a grotesque pulse. Abyssal sludge surged upward in geysers. The dragon roared, its gradually solidifying form warping the chamber with every movement.

Kain kept his eyes low, body hunched protectively over the practically destroyed body of the boy as chunks of stone began to fall down around them.

The three damaged Vespids buzzed weakly beside him, shaky wings flapping in uneven rhythm. Their flight capability had been restored only in the barest sense—Queen had patched them together, but the repairs were quick and surface-level. They weren’t fighters now. They were an exit vehicle.

The demigod’s presence split the relic’s air like a blade.

The demigod examined the failing relic and the abyssal dragon opposite, the demigod’s head snapped toward Kain—just for an instant—as if catching the lingering echo of that earlier attack on the dragon.

“Boy,” he whispered mid‑attack, but despite the seemingly low tone, his voice shook the chamber, “it seems like after this is all over, we will need to have a chat—where exactly did you find or steal an energy signature like that?”

The accusation cut sharper than the dragon’s claws.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the abyssal demigod wasn’t the only one who assumed Kain was an invader because of unfamiliar source energy. This man’s suspicion came from knowledge. From context. From understanding what abyssals hunted and what it likely meant for someone to possess source energy from an unfamiliar planet.

Kain’s stomach twisted. He had no answer. And even if he did, he wasn’t sure he should give it. But it also wasn’t like he could have any hope of fleeing from or fighting him.

A beat passed—just long enough for Kain to feel the demigod’s scrutiny tighten, then shift away. The man seemed to file the suspicion for later, slotting Kain into the category of “problems to interrogate once the dragon stops trying to end them all.” The dragon’s roar filled that brief gap, dragging the demigod’s attention back to the real threat and giving Kain a momentary, fragile reprieve.

The demigod felt like a mountain compressed into the shape of a man: immovable, terrifying, and heavy enough to distort space and gravity from the sheer weight of his presence.

The dragon reacted immediately.

The instant the demigod’s foot hit the ground, the dragon struck—its claws snapping through the air like guillotines made of half-formed scales and abyssal energy. The demigod caught the blow with one hand, feet sliding back an inch, but even that small displacement was evidence of the huge power in the blow.

“Persistent lizard,” the demigod drawled, “try harder if you want to escape.”

The dragon answered with a guttural snarl filled with abyssal energy, its mouth opening in a roar that made parts of the ‘sky’ inside the relic peel away like scorched paper and fall down upon Kain and the others like a rain of ash.

The hand fragment (clone, offshoot, skill manifestation, whatever it was) zipped backward to avoid the shockwave.

“Great. Lovely. See how strong they both are? It’s ludicrous for me to be expected to fight that,” the hand muttered. “This is EXACTLY why I told him to get here faster—but nooo, why listen to the hand? And now I’m missing half of my wrist!”

Kain didn’t stay to watch the clash. He couldn’t. This section of the relic was failing—cracking, sagging, peeling open at the seams—but the wider relic wasn’t gone yet. He had minutes, maybe longer, before this level folded in on itself to escape outside the relic or to another area.

He moved toward the exit portal left by the human demigod upon entry, climbing onto one of the barely standing but still functional Vespids while placing the boy’s mangled body securely atop another.

Perhaps it was due to the Vespids’ poor conditions, the shaking surroundings, or his own poor condition, but the short flight to the exit felt left an arduous ordeal. His ribs still vibrated with backlash from forcing Pangea’s source into the dragon’s jaw, and his breath tasted like iron from blood he’d spat up.

But finally—finally—he reached the widening breach in the relic wall.

A way out.

Safety.

His hand rose toward the threshold.

And then… he stopped.

Not because of danger—the danger was behind him, not in front. Not because the portal appeared unstable—it looked surprisingly solid due to the demigod seemingly maintaining it. Not because the demigod shouted something behind him—facing an opponent of the same level, he didn’t have much spare thoughts for Kain.

Because of the reason he came here in the first place.

The thick, white thread he had followed to the boy, now barely alive next to him, and then to this relic.

The thread that tied him to this boy and promised great fortune.

Promised—yet delivered nothing.

Kain did a careful recount of all that he’d ‘gotten’ since entering this relic that he’d believed to be a blessing at first:

>All his contracts were injured and would likely take a long time to recover fully

>Pangea is likely extremely damaged

>The boy he felt both pity and responsibility for was possessed, and now half-dead and may still die

>The relic was collapsing around him, placing him in danger as well

>He got negative attention from a human demigod who now wanted to interrogate him

No treasure.

No opportunity.

No gain.

Only suffering.

Kain stared at the boy’s still face, half-covered in dried blood.

“This can’t be all,” he whispered.

He’d lost time, energy, health, nearly all his contracts, and possibly had endangered Pangea itself by travelling deep into its relic.

And for what?

His jaw tightened.

He believed in what he saw. The thread of fate was real. These threads guided, directed, and sometimes dragged. But they did not lie.

So where… where was the promised fortune?

He turned away from the exit.

Behind him, the hand fragment also about to leave froze mid-flight.

“…Kid?” it asked, voice dangerously thin. “Why are you facing the WRONG way?”

Kain didn’t answer. He adjusted the boy on the other Vespid’s back, ensuring he wouldn’t fall off, before directing that Vespid guard to continue leaving the relic.

And Kain’s mount also started moving too—directly deeper into the collapsing relic.

The hand let out a noise so strangled it bordered on comedic.

“NO. NO NO NO. TURN AROUND. THE EXIT IS BEHIND YOU. Do you SEE the blinding gold doorway?! The thing NOT currently crumbling into a bottomless pit?!”

Kain’s footsteps did not falter.

He did not have the white thread anymore—he had tried calling upon that ability twice already, and both times it had fizzled like a candle under a waterfall. Likely the presence of two demigods made sensing fate impossible for him.

But he didn’t need the thread to know.

He hadn’t received his fortune.

That meant it was still here.

Somewhere.

Waiting.

“KID!” the hand shrieked, flying alongside him, waving frantically. “Explain! Explain what you’re DOING before I have a HEART attack—metaphorically speaking!”

Kain finally spoke.

“My fortune isn’t out there,” he said quietly. “It’s in here.”

The hand blinked.

“…Your WHAT?”

“My fortune,” he repeated. “I came here because fate directed me to, and I refuse to leave until I understand why.”

Slap

Cough

The hand came up and slapped Kain on the back…’gently’. Although a gentle slap from this hand related to a demigod felt like he got hit by a train, immediately causing him to cough up more blood. “THINK CLEARLY!! ARE YOU THINKING YET?! WHY WOULD YOU TRUST FATE?! Fate is a scam! A scam! You hear me? SCAM!”

Kain didn’t bother answering.

Behind them, the dragon and the demigod collided again. This time, the impact split the floor down the middle, revealing a vortex of starless abyss beneath. Gravity bent sideways. The relic screamed.

“KID!” the hand shouted over the chaos. “IF YOU GO DEEPER YOU WILL DIE. I PROMISE YOU. I am a demigod’s right hand—I literally KNOW HOW DEAD YOU’LL BE if you continue to stay here with your weak body. Are you so willing to gamble away your life?”

“Yeah. I’m willing to take that gamble,” Kain said bluntly.

The hand sputtered so violently it seemed to glitch. “WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT?! You’re a CHILD! You’re supposed to cling to survival instinct! Cry! Run! Not—NOT WHATEVER THIS IS!”

But Kain was already descending the fractured corridor, following instinct alone.

Kain didn’t turn around.

He kept walking.

Further. Deeper.

Because he had not found his fortune. Because he had not found the purpose of the white thread.

Because he refused to leave empty-handed.

And turning away now would mean abandoning the very reason he came.

And he had faith that what he sought was waiting.

Right ahead.

Waiting for him to claim it, even as the collapsing relic howled around him, promising danger with every step.