This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange-Chapter 621: Teamwork (3)

The blood continued to drip—thicker now, faster. The rivulets on the walls bled like open veins, winding down into the floor's grooves, which Kain hadn't noticed were carved into the shape of a vast sigil beneath their feet.

The pulsing heart on the altar throbbed faster.

At the same time, the 'blood'—if the mysterious liquid dripping from the ceiling even was that—had an even more prominent effect on the paintings.

The first painting to respond rippled.

A clawed hand pressed against the canvas from inside, stretching the material like a membrane. The dragon-human hybrid's face contorted—first in ecstasy, then agony—as it fought to free itself.

Kain's dagger twitched in his hand.

A subtle pulse.

Then another.

Like it was reacting.

He looked at Soreia, who had already drawn closer to the altar. Her eyes remained locked on the heart, but her stance shifted, more guarded now.

Drip

Blood from above fell on Kain again, but this time, instead of his covered shoulder, it fell on his bare hand.

For a brief second he saw an image of what looked like a young half dragon-half human child, like those depicted in the paintings, sitting on the floor playing without a care as a horrifying black creature approached it from behind.

Kain repeatedly shook his head to clear his mind of the image and looked to his 'teammate.' Only to find that another red droplet had fallen straight onto her nose, and her lips were parted with a slightly vacant expression.

Kain assumed she was experiencing the same flashes of alien images as himself.

Fortunately, like him, she snapped out of it within seconds as well.

"Did you happen to see something as well?"

She looked at him briefly before giving a terse nod, but not sharing what she'd seen.

Not that he had a problem with that, the trust between them was still hanging on by a thread.

Perhaps the droplets of blood contain memories or visions…but so far they'd only come into contact with a small drop at a time.

What would happen if they had too much prolonged contact with it?

Like the relic seemed to tease, would they get permanently lost in those memories?

Soreia finally broke her silence while examining the dagger sheath that she held.

"When studying ancient weapons, sheaths are usually not just something to carry weapons around in or to avoid accidentally hurting yourself on. Many will have sigils drawn on them to have powerful effects themselves—often sealing or preservation. Perhaps that is the purpose of this dagger sheath."

Kain couldn't agree one way or another. When it came to these old families that probably had ancient and powerful enchanted objects for toys as babies, this was a serious blind spot in Kain's education.

So he'd take her word on it…

"So, which is it? Preserving or sealing? And what?"

She didn't answer immediately, merely looking around. Examining the dagger, the sheath, the sigils carved around the room, the mural, and most especially the heart in front of them.

Every so often a droplet of this red liquid would splash onto Kain, triggering another brief flash of memories, but he refrained from rushing her.

The blood-memories came faster now—each droplet a fractured glimpse of a world being consumed.

Kain saw:

A city of spiralling towers, crumbling into an ink-black sea filled with acid.

A female draconic creature screaming as her scaled skin peeled away in ribbons and flew towards a creature shrouded in shadow, who would then grab the peeled away scales and munch on them like a snack while laughing cruelly.

Kain grit his teeth as another drop struck the side of his neck.

This time, the vision didn't come as a sudden flash—it lingered. Which wasn't a good sign…

He saw another child, smaller, it wasn't playing like the other one. It crying and huddled in a smoking ruin, surrounded by ash. Something had razed the settlement. Everything was charred black. Bodies, half-dragon and otherwise, littered the scene.

And in the distance, beyond the rising smoke, the silhouette of a towering creature moved across a broken sky, its every step spreading more darkness.

Kain staggered back, blinking hard.

When he came to, he saw Soreia staring at him.

"This place isn't just a trial. The relic likely either fused with a fragment of something else."

"A fragment of what?"

She stared at the pulsing heart atop the altar, her expression shadowed. "A world. One completely devoured by the Abyss."

Kain's mouth went dry.

The heart, still beating, began to glow faintly from within—its golden veins growing brighter with each pulse. And the sigil beneath them? It was glowing too now. No longer just bleeding red. Lines of light traced outward, slowly rising into the air like strands of energy.

"What does it want us to do?" he asked aloud.

The heart on the altar pulsed sharply—once. Then the entire room shuddered.

The paintings around the room, now saturated with dripping red, writhed.

Some of the figures had fully emerged—clawing their way from two-dimensional canvases into half-formed, semi-corporeal beings that looked like echoes of the dragonkin from the visions. They didn't seem hostile.

Not yet.

Soreia held the sheath up. The dark inlays along its edge shimmered with runes that were only now beginning to glow.

"I'm more inclined to preservation," she said at last. "Not sealing. This sheath is meant to preserve something, and my guess is that it is that heart. Or rather…whatever memories are contained in the blood of that heart."

Kain felt the dagger grow warm in his hand, and instinctively knew what to do.

Kain had a realization, that perhaps the ultimate goal of this relic was to better prepare humanity to fight the abyss…not to just reward young talents from around the world like it seemed to be suggested.

Did the professors at the college know this? Or is transportation to this second relic mere coincidence and only activates if the planet perceives a threat to itself?

Regardless, it was very likely that whatever memories were present in that heart could be a game changer for humanity…