Fearing a repeat of the [Apexan] incident, the Beast Tamers deemed transformation taboo, punishing transgressors with swift execution. Enforcement of this decree was indiscriminate, allowing anyone to carry out the punishment with no need to justify their actions. Following extensive conflict, the Beast Tamers reluctantly kept their semi-beastly forms, adopting the moniker [Kennel Folk] to reflect their hybrid nature, reflecting their amalgamation of half-bestial and half-humanoid characteristics.

One clan was prohibited from proximity to the other, forming various clans with each having bonded with a specific animal. This created rivalry amongst fellow kennel folk, compelling children to merge with their familiars prematurely. Due to this regulation, only a privileged few among the upper class could enjoy the benefits, as their clan reserved the finest beasts for promising nobles. While others were forced to expedite the bond between tamer and beast, it resulted in diminished power and deprived them of various other advantages.

Tamers typically spend years searching for and forming bonds with their familiars. However, by hastening the contract and initiating it with a child, numerous complications emerge. Bart was one such child who encountered a bat too late in the process, resulting in the loss of half of the bat’s hearing abilities.

Bart found a wounded bat and played with it for amusement, and as time passed without any creature forming a bond with him, the elders intervened and compelled the bat onto him, along with all its deformities. As a child, Bart’s youthful indiscretions, including tampering with the contract, led the clan to disown him.

Relegated from the capital, he found himself stationed in this rundown outpost, fortifying its walls against those less fortunate than himself. While he once enjoyed a comfortable life, a fractured bond hindered his ascent within the military ranks. In a world dictated by military prowess, this setback amounted to career suicide.

The initial loss might have been his own doing, but Claude was responsible for the subsequent half of his hearing impairment.

Claude forged a bond with a crab, renowned for its versatility and strength, enabling him to swiftly ascend the ranks. He remained among the elite for years until encountering an earth mage left him humiliated. Consumed by pride, he delved into an unconventional experiment, transforming himself into an impervious juggernaut of destruction.

As a result of the experiment, both his defensive and offensive capabilities soared, albeit at the expense of speed and other senses. Blades proved futile against his impervious armor, while a solitary punch from him shattered opponents’ defenses like an enchanted cannonball.

Securing his revenge, he earned a position as a shield in the main army. He successfully held the line in the initial battles, but the opposing forces quickly devised countermeasures. They either incinerated him from a distance or maneuvered past him altogether.

Claude’s robust physique hindered his ability to catch agile foot soldiers, making it easy for opponents to engage other soldiers and evade his approach effortlessly. Vigilance was unnecessary, as his groans and lack of flexibility anchored him to a spot, restricting both his mobility and reach.

The repercussions of the experiments gradually took a toll on Claude’s senses, complicating his ability to listen, see, feel, and talk. Amidst the chaos of battle, conveying even the simplest instructions to the deaf crab became an insurmountable challenge, making him more of a liability than an asset in the war. This setback led to his expulsion from the military force, landing him under the care of Sir Toe.

Uvrodon faced no such hindrances; he possessed a flawless bond with a formidable Buo-Rattlesnake that aided his ascent up the ranks, one step at a time, until one day he broke the taboo and slithered around in his snake form. No one cared if it helped the Saint Domo win the battle against the ant hive. Soon, they found out about his deeds without praising and honoring him with a medal. They kicked him into this dump.

Under Sir Toe’s care, the trio flourished. As top elites in Cathel, they enjoyed substantial compensation for their services—a modest residence within the protective walls and the companionship of any woman or child they desired. Their departure from the bar’s vicinity, where they would often berate the weaker soldiers, only occurred due to the unexpected surge in beast activity.

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Cathel boasted several factions, each vying for control, and among them was the [Guard Barracks], responsible for maintaining order within the walls. Their ascendancy was immediate, securing the top position given their initial affiliation with an elite military group before their expulsion.

Every soldier in Cathel fell under their jurisdiction, so in extension, placing Saint Cathel itself within their sphere of influence. Led by Anzel, they skillfully exploited resources and manipulated rules at their discretion. Anzel did caution them about Sir Toe, but dismissing him as a washed-up veteran who couldn’t distinguish left from right.

“A little rat told me a noble might be visiting Cathel soon,” Claude remarked.

“Ooh... a little rat,” Uvrodon commented as a purple sludge drooled from his mouth. “I didn’t realize there were any left.”

“That’s because you keep eating all of them before they can grow. Too bad such records only become a nuisance down here,” Bart retorted.

“Hass!” Uvrodon grunted with a hissing sound. “Keep track of that, noblemen. He is our ticket out of here.”

“I am not sure about that, but the noble can be our ticket out of here,” Claude reiterated.

“That’s what. Hiss... never mind,” Uvrodon replied in a dismissive tone.

“And here I thought my hearing was deteriorating by the day,” Dolton chuckled.

“WHAT?” wailed Claude.

Dolton collapsed to the floor, his hands shielding his large ears as he emitted a piercing screech of pain.

“OOPS, I AM SORRY,” Claude leaned forward to apologize.

“Stop it, both of you,” a lightning-quick tail slapped both of them on their foreheads in an instant. “Let’s go out. You guys are getting boring,” Uvrodon slithered out, gesturing for them to follow.

Streaks of blood ran down Bart’s ears, and Uvrodon recalled a little rat mentioning a rumor about a healer outside the walls. Now he regretted gobbling it before extracting more details, but what better time to seek a healer? It’s also been a long time since he heard those trash squeals for mercy. A little visit can quench both of his desires. Maybe that healer will see his might and join their little group. With a healer on their side, they can become nay impossible to defeat.

A tank, scout, striker, and healer—the perfect squad poised for triumph in any battle. Uvrodon was determined to debunk the myths surrounding a team’s failure when a snake was in their ranks. Little did he know, that adding a demon would only complicate matters further.

Uvrodon instructed the guards to summon the earth mages and open up a section of the wall. Cathel lacked any dragon treasures to fortify or enhance its walls, and it was surprising that the kings permitted Sir Toe to safeguard his castle walls, let alone this realm they deemed a kingdom.

Sir Toe recruited many mages with weaker bonds to the earth element, offering them a second chance to improve and eventually join the elite ranks of a true Saint kingdom.

He went to the extent of establishing an academy to train future talent. The motives behind his actions baffled everyone, considering that everyone in Cathel was discarded trash. None of them were natives, but rather cast-offs deemed useless by other kingdoms. The prevailing belief was that these washed-up individuals could never compete with the elite schools, as people never surpass the strength they were born within this accursed world.

“Trash always remains trash,” Uvrodon snickered, observing the hundred earth mages struggling to open up a section of the wall. The current display was beyond pathetic. While an [War Artifact] could expedite the process, who would waste such a precious artifact on these individuals?

The process was straightforward on paper—target a section of the wall, alter its properties to a semi-liquid state, and then manipulate the section out of the way. A wall, constructed by a child within a second, stood as a testament to the simplicity of the task. The child raised his tiny army high, attempting to touch the sky, and an enormous wall ascended alongside his gesture, reaching fifty meters in height and twenty meters in width.

The overwhelming power in such fragile hands stirred a nauseating sensation in Lary. Unable to vent his frustration by hurling his guts, he directed his pent-up anger towards the hapless earth mages.

Claude never understood why those on the other side never broke through or scaled over. The outer walls lacked protection, save for occasional moonlit patrols by the Wolf Tribe.

Uvrodon understood their apprehension, knowing that any foolhardy soul reckless enough to cross the wall would likely find themselves in his stomach the next day.

"One minute," hissed Uvrodon, the rattling sound accompanying his words sending shivers of fear down the spines of those present.

A hundred soldiers struggled to move a small section, their efforts hampered by their divided focus and Uvrodon’s timer only exacerbating their concentration.

“A child can deform and reform this excuse for a wall,” Uvrodon scoffed as his tail zapped by, rendering a dozen mages unconscious. They speculated that Uvrodon was employing some artifact or spell, as none of them could even perceive his tail’s movement. To them, the tail never seemed to leave its owner, yet a dozen of their comrades suddenly toppled over.

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