Jack5101b

In a world where every animal on Earth has mutated into terrifying beasts with elemental powers — fire, ice, wind, poison, and more — humanity lives in constant fear. These creatures, now known as Beasts, have reshaped the balance of power. Slowly, brave humans began rising against them. Those who managed to defeat and tame these beasts earned the title: Beast Tamers.

Becoming a Beast Tamer is every survivor’s dream — a symbol of strength, protection, and hope. But not everyone is chosen by fate.

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John is a young man who lives in the shadow of this beast-ridden world. Unlike others, he has never been able to tame even a single beast. He is seen as weak, unworthy — a failure in the eyes of society.

But one fateful day, John is caught in a strange accident that sends him back in time — to an era before the modern mutations… to a prehistoric world where even dinosaurs have mutated into monstrous, ancient beasts.

Trapped in the past with no allies, surrounded by gigantic primeval creatures with never-before-seen powers, John must now learn to survive. As he uncovers ancient secrets and gains the trust of these primal monsters, he discovers that his weakness might just be the key to a forgotten power — one that can change both past and future.

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John’s story is not just about survival. It’s about rising from weakness, mastering ancient powers, and becoming a legend in a world ruled by monsters.

Can a boy with no powers become the greatest Beast Tamer history has ever known?

THE DEMON TAMER

John moved swiftly, his feet pounding against the forest floor as he retraced the path he had taken earlier. The trees blurred past him, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. His breath came evenly, his mind clear. The arrow was clutched securely in his hand, a simple wooden shaft that had somehow become the marker of something far more significant—a test of character, of resolve.

He remembered the direction they had gone—the old man and the children—and it wasn't long before familiar figures came into view. Standing under the filtered light of the forest canopy, they waited for him, just as they had said they would.

The old man, tall and dignified despite his age, was the first to notice John's return. His eyes narrowed, sharp and watchful, studying the boy as if measuring the weight of his soul.

"What happened, kid?" the man asked, his voice gruff, direct. "Were you scared of the dinosaur?"

John slowed to a stop before them, the arrow still in his grasp. He could sense the tone behind the man's question—it wasn't mere curiosity. It was part of something more, something deliberate.

"This was your test," the old man continued, his gaze not faltering. "If you couldn't bring the arrow back, that meant you were a coward and not fit to go to the tribe with us."

John met his gaze calmly, then raised his hand, holding up the retrieved projectile.

"Well," he said with a small grin, "good thing I brought the arrow. Otherwise, I wouldn't be standing here with you right now, huh?"

The old man's expression didn't shift immediately, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, something between amusement and approval. Behind him, the children shifted with curiosity, watching the interaction unfold.

"By the way," the old man said, his voice softening slightly, "we haven't exchanged names yet."

There was now a glint of friendliness in his eyes, one that hadn't been there before.

"So kid," he asked, "what's your name?"

"My name is John," he replied. "And yours?" he added, turning the question back with casual courtesy.

"My name is Albert," the man answered with a firm nod. Then, gesturing to the four children gathered beside him, he continued, "These four are my grandkids. This one's Henry," he said, pointing to the eldest boy. "This one's Lucas," he added, motioning to a second boy, younger and a bit more bashful.

"And these," he said, turning to the pair of young girls, "are my youngest granddaughters. One's name is Lucy and the other is Lacey. They're twins, so even their names are similar."

The girls gave identical grins—wide, toothy, and mischievous. John couldn't help but smile.

"And they're quite mischievous," Albert added with a knowing chuckle. "They might trouble you even after we reach the tribe."

John shrugged, unfazed. "No problem," he said lightly. "Kids are like that anyway."

The children giggled in response, and even the previously reserved Lucas cracked a smile.

"By the way, Uncle Albert…" John began, taking a small step forward, his tone respectful.

But Albert lifted a hand and chuckled, interrupting gently.

"Look, John," he said, using the affectionate term naturally. "I'm not used to it. No one in the tribe calls me by name. If you want," he continued with a smile, "you can call me Granpa."

John blinked, surprised by the offer. Granpa—a term that meant more than just "uncle" or "sir." It carried a weight of affection, of mentorship. A connection to the tribal way of life he was stepping into.

A warm breeze passed between them, carrying the scent of the forest. Birds chirped overhead, and for a moment, the world seemed quiet and still—like this brief exchange had settled something important.

Albert smiled, this time fully, and behind him, his grandchildren beamed with approval.

CHAPTER 52: A TEST OF COURAGE