This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Chapter 726: Chapter 726: All Eyes on the Stage

Somewhere in the forests of the Western Province…

The mission briefing had ended early. A rare lull. They wouldn’t mobilize for another half hour.

Ezra stood near the outer command tent, arms crossed, visor half-lowered over his gold eyes as he leaned against a large crate of supplies facing the horizon. He looked calm. But beneath the silence, his mind was always working. Something was distracting him from the current mission at hand.

A device hovered beside him—small, thin, inconspicuous. Linked to a secure signal routed through their most obscure intel line. The stream wasn’t high-resolution given their distance from the Celestial Empire. But that was fine. Ezra wasn’t watching the match for entertainment.

Or even to gain any important information. He was just curious about how the kids he left behind would turn out…

The tournament footage flickered. The footage was a recording of Kain standing on the stage as he basked in applause before the match.

Ezra’s lips twitch up into a barely there smile.

One year ago, he’d watched Kain from the position of his captain—an anxious first-year assigned to his squad during the beast tide, masking inexperience with calculation. Now? Now he walked onto a national stage like it was his.

Ezra didn’t react to the surge of cheers in the stadium. Didn’t even blink at the crowd’s response. His attention was on the coordination. The formation. The focus.

“Dark Moon, eleven contracts,” he murmured. “Obsidian, fifteen.”

He watched as the illusions filled the field—and then disintegrated one by one under coordinated strikes.

Precise. Unspoken. Tactical cohesion under pressure.

His eyes lingered on the golem—Aegis. Still a monster. But it was the lack of movement that told him more. Whereas all of the other contracts were frazzled by the enemy suddenly quadrupling in number, Aegis and Kain both appeared relaxed.

Ezra’s eyes narrowed as his familiar sixth sense as a tactician and former captain went off. Their calm meant that something else was brewing. Something you couldn’t see.

Ezra’s eyes shifted as he recalled the attributes of Kain’s ’invisible’ contract with a mental attribute. “Perhaps” he muttered, “there are twelve contracts on Dark Moon’s side, not only the eleven we can see…”

And almost as if to affirm his theory, the battle shifted. The Dark Moon contracts began to tear through the opponents in a manner that suggested the illusions had zero effect on them. Even the defensive core of the opponents fell apart in less than sixty seconds.

Ezra closed the stream.

No need to watch further. The outcome was clear. And his hanging heart that Dark Moon’s performance may suffer this year due to his and the other graduated fourth years’ absence, was settled.

Relaxing slightly, he couldn’t help but internally chuckle at his own anxiety for a team he was n o longer part of, “once a Captain, always a Captain, I guess…”

He turned back toward the tent. A few members of the infiltration squad for this next mission were prepping gear inside, murmuring quietly.

“Team Leader,” one called. “Will we head out soon?”

Ezra looked at the darkening horizon and affirmed “any second now. Remember to stay together at all times. We aren’t the only team participating, but the estimated fatality rate is still so high. It must mean that there is more to this mission than meets the eye.”

His small team, Order members similar in age from other top 5 colleges and had worked together for the past year and grown closer, all nodded solemnly.

Ezra put away his tablet and focused on the task at hand. With the mission starting he wouldn’t be able to watch the remainder of the National Tournament, but he also didn’t need to watch do so. That wasn’t his job anymore. He now had a new team he needed to protect and focus on.

He pulled the hood of his Order-issued gear so that it partially concealed his face as the call for mobilization rang through the site.

Time to get to work.

——————-

VIP Box #6 at the National Tournament Competition site…

The lights in the VIP viewing box were dimmed—subtle, elegant, and perfectly calculated to make the one standing in the deepest shadows appear even darker.

A female figure with long deep purple hair stood just outside the curtain of light, her hands folded in front of her, posture perfect. Her face was half-obscured by a mesh veil, long lashes lowered as she pretended not to watch the stage too intently. But despite it being partially obscured, her beauty was still evident to all, and the occasional arena staff member entering the room couldn’t resist glancing in her direction.

Not that she cared. She had more pressing matters on her plate. She’d messed up. And in her line of business that was unacceptable.

Fatal even.

The research facility she oversaw—one of several experimental labs positioned under false medical fronts—had been raided by an Order strike team three days prior. The facility was lost. Nearly all of her staff were arrested or dead.

And now?

She was here.

Standing like a statue beside the man they all called “Bishop Marrowe,” whose voice was velvet soaked in venom. He wore a dark maroon suit with a silver diagonal cross denoting his rank on his right lapel.

“While assessing the consequences of your most recent oversight,” he murmured, sipping from a wine glass that never reflected light properly, “I instructed our analysts to evaluate your value. If you had any remaining. To determine whether it was time to replace you.”

She didn’t react. Not outwardly.

“But during that review,” the Bishop continued, gaze fixed on the match that was just finishing up below as a teasing lilt entered his normally cold voice, “we came across something interesting.”

He paused.

Below, Kain and the other Dark Moon members were standing tall, his figure framed by the rising cheers of the crowd due to their victory.

“Were you aware,” the Bishop said lightly, “that this famous Kain Newman is your brother?”

Her fingers twitched slightly, but kept up a perfectly practiced blank expression.

“Hmm?” he said, a barely there smile curling his lips. “Nothing to say?”

She said nothing.

The Bishop set down his glass. “A brother should help his sister, don’t you think? Especially one who appears to value family so much.”

Still she didn’t answer.

His smile widened. “Useful, isn’t it? That he’s gained such a position of influence. Think what he could provide. Access. Materials. Intelligence.”

“I doubt he would help,” she said quietly, speaking for the first time. “Not if he knew.”

“Then figure out a solution, Airalai,” the Bishop replied. “Quite a few in the Order are interested in this young man.”

Kain was walking off the field, Serena beside him. The crowd thundered like a living thing.

The Bishop turned.

“You failed once. But perhaps there’s still use for you. You’ll receive new orders by morning.”

She bowed slightly, expression respectful. But her fists were clenched tight enough to draw blood.

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