The Rebirth Of The Beast Tamer-Chapter 93: A Tamer’s Conspiracy 1

The next morning the trio continued with their journey and the he Shattered Peaks loomed like shattered relics of a forgotten age, their jagged spires were swallowed by a sky churning with storm clouds, the air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked stone and lingering decay.

Kelvin led the Tide’s Crest along a crumbling ridge, his boots were slipping on slick shale, each step was a stab of pain through his bruised ribs and aching limbs.

His staff was clutched tightly in his trembling hand which pulsed faintly with fire runes and their glow was a dim beacon in the storm’s gloom.

The flame-carved pendant around his neck hung heavy, which was a symbol of their hard-fought victories in Shadowfen, Crags, Wastes, Hollow, the Peaks’ rift, and the behemoth’s defeat.

But the cloaked figure was a silent challenge and the Veil’s whispers clung to him, a cold dread that tightened his chest like a vice.

The memory of their near-collapse against the behemoth that haunted him, which sowed doubts that threatened to unravel his resolve.

Xerion, the End-Tyrant, slithered beside him, his massive serpentine form was a cascade of crimson and gold scales that shimmered weakly in the rain.

The ancient beast, a Level 8 Legendary whose legend stretched back to the Great Rift War that moves with a weary grace, his twenty-foot length weaving over the uneven path, his scales was scarred from their battles.

His amber eyes were deep and ageless, it scanned the cliffs with a low hiss vibrating the air as if it was sensing a new threat.

Their bond, an 82% sync ratio, was a blazing lifeline, but even Xerion’s warmth felt strained, the toll of their trials were evident in his sluggish movements.

Kelvin rested a hand on the serpent’s scales, their heat an anchor against the despair that clawed at his heart.

Lyra limped to his side, her shadow-etched gauntlet were flickering with runes that struggled to maintain their glow. Salaris, her shadow-cloaked raptor, flickered at her side, her iridescent feathers were dulled by a grime as her talons clicked faintly on the stone.

Lyra’s green eyes were sharp but shadowed by pain, which stared ahead, her chest and side wounds were bandaged but full of pain.

"Something is wrong," she said with a low voice, barely audible over the storm’s howl. "The air is heavier, like the Veil is gathering strength."

Kelvin nodded with his jaw clenching. "It is not over. The rift is sealed, but there is something else out here."

Darius trudged on his right, his eyes were dulled by exhaustion and pain. Rhoam, his iron-plated panther, lumbered behind with his massive paws dragging, his iron plates that was clinking dully, dented and scratched from the behemoth’s assault.

Darius clutched a soulstone and its green glow was a faint in his trembling hand, his usual grin was replaced by a tight-lipped grimace.

"If the Peaks throw one more beast at us, I am done," he muttered, his voice was rough, the scratches on his arm, leg, and chest were slowing his pace. "I am not kidding."

Kelvin managed a faint smile, Darius’s grim humor was a spark against the oppressive gloom. "We are tougher than that," he said, though the weight of their injuries and the behemoth’s attack pressed down like the storm above. "We are almost out."

The monitoring device in Kelvin’s pack lay silent, its runes were dark, the Sanctum’s watchful eyes was severed by the storm’s interference.

The absence of its hum was a stark reminder of their isolation, the mention of "unknown energy" from its last message was echoing in Kelvin’s mind, a warning tied to the cloaked figure’s presence.

They had been descending for hours, the ridge was growing narrower, the storm’s rain lashed to their faces, turning the path to mud.

Flashbacks of their training in the Sanctum’s yard filled Kelvin’s mind, grueling sessions after the Hollow, where they had pushed their limits to prepare for this trial.

He had meditated with Xerion, their bond was deepened as he visualized their sync ratio climbing, the End-Tyrant’s flames were burning brighter.

Lyra had crafted advanced shadow runes, her gauntlet weaving bindings that held even the strongest rogue beasts.

Darius had honed his soulstone blasts, his aim was precise, Rhoam’s charges synchronized seamlessly. But the behemoth’s attack had nearly broken them, their injuries was a reminder of their fragility.

"We have come too far to stop," Lyra said, her voice was steady despite the pain in her eyes. "We sealed the rift. We can make it back."

Kelvin nodded, drawing strength from her resolve, but doubt gnawed at him. "We need to stay together. The Veil is still out there."

The ridge opened into a sunken valley, its floor were littered with jagged rocks and twisted roots that pulsed faintly with violet light.

The air was heavy, thick with the scent of wet stone and decay, the pulse of dark energy stronger now, like a heartbeat echoing from the earth.

They paused to rest, their beasts were settling nearby, Xerion in it’s usual way coiled into a protective ring, his flames casted a dim glow.

Salaris perched on a rock with her feathers blending with the shadows; Rhoam sprawled across the ground, his iron plates gleaming faintly in the rain.

Kelvin reached for the monitoring device, hoping for a signal, but its runes remained dark.

A low hum that vibrated through the ground, followed by a faint violet glow from the valley’s center. "There is something here," he said, his voice tight. "Another fracture."

Lyra’s eyes narrowed, her gauntlet flickering as she scanned the terrain. "It’s smaller than the rift, but unstable. We need to seal it before it grows."

Darius groaned, leaning on Rhoam. "Another one? We are barely standing."

Before Kelvin could respond, a figure emerged from the storm—a cloaked tamer with their face hidden, their body radiating dark energy.

At their side stood a corrupted beast, a twisted wyrm with obsidian scales and glowing red eyes, its form was pulsing with Veil energy.

The tamer’s voice was cold, laced with malice. "You have meddled enough, Tide’s Crest. The Veil claims this valley."

Kelvin’s heart sank, the cloaked figure’s presence was a chilling confirmation of their fears. "You are one of them," he said, with his voice steady despite the dread. "A Veil agent."

The tamer’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the storm. "You are too late. This fracture will tear the Peaks apart." They raised a hand, dark runes glowed at their fingertips, and the wyrm lunged.

"Form up!" Kelvin shouted, Xerion rearing, with his flames igniting in a blazing arc that lit the valley.

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