Genetic Engineer in a Tamer's World

Lazek Oberon sat cross-legged upon the translucent back of his winged jellyfish chimaera, floating hundreds of meters above the pitch-black floor of the crater.

Cold black eyes locked onto the swirling vortex of obsidian scale and shimmering green light far below. From this height, the violent clash looked less like a battle and more like a microscopic experiment on a slide, a raw interplay of biological variables he had engineered and released into the wild.

He had watched from the very moment he shoved Kale off the ledge into the dark abyss, his expression originally fixed in a mask of heavy, terminal boredom.

Yet as the minutes dragged on and the pit floor turned into a rising tide of severed lizard carcasses, even the Grandmaster Fleshcrafter felt the sharp, familiar spark of a manic curiosity stir in his chest.

The sheer combat prowess on display from the pair was nothing short of monstrous.

Lazek noted the seamless manner in which Neo operated as a living, breathing extension of Kale’s will.

The hydra’s independent heads held down the outer perimeter with lethal efficiency, allowing Kale to dedicate all his focus to high-intensity deletions right through the centre of the swarm.

It was a masterclass in tactical coordination. The senses inherent to the Nemesis Hydra were clearly supplying a level of shared sensory feedback to Kale that completely bypassed the standard lag of a Beast Bond.

Lazek watched as Kale smoothly ducked under razor-sharp strikes he couldn’t possibly have seen with human eyes, guided instead by the steady, rhythmic pulses of Neo’s far-reaching perception.

Yet, as a seasoned practitioner who had spent decades conditioning his own frame across demanding martial and elemental pathways, Lazek couldn’t help but dissect the flaws. He tracked Kale’s footwork with a cold, critical eye.

The boy moved with frightening speed, propelled by the raw, supernatural power of his morphed physiology, but his stance lacked the settled structural grounding of a true Martial.

Kale moved purely on the predatory instincts of a wild beast, wasting precious energy through wide lateral shifts. Every time he executed a sharp pivot following a heavy dagger strike, his centre of gravity floated too high, leaving his lower dantian wide open for a brief instant.

These were minute details, tiny shifts in balance that meant nothing to a common mercenary, but to a Grandmaster or a High Lord, they were glaring invitations for a fatal strike.

Lazek continued to observe as Kale used great control over mana to coat his twin daggers in high-frequency vibrations.

The raw energetic output was impressive, but the execution betrayed the habits of an amateur who relied far too heavily on brute force instead of refined, disciplined technique.

Even so, the Grandmaster Fleshcrafter found himself offering a silent nod of praise. The boy was performing far beyond his baseline projections.

To survive against three thousand Peak Feral predators while still holding the rank of an Apprentice was an incredible feat, one that completely shattered the historical combat records maintained by the Association.

Lazek leaned forward over the edge of his floating mount, his dark grey cloak billowing in the thin air, as a rare, prideful grin split his lips.

Down at the bottom of the crater, the heavy atmosphere slowly settled as the final echoes of the Rattling Roar dissolved into the dark. Kale and Neo stood side by side, their lungs pumping heavily in a shared, exhausting rhythm.

Kale’s white coat was ruined, coated in thick, dark green lizard blood and streaks of his own crimson stains.

Hand shaking from muscle failure, the Cursed Tamer reached into his spatial storage, retrieved a vial of high-grade recovery potion, and downed it in one desperate gulp, finally catching a moment to draw a deep breath.

The handful of surviving Black Chameleons did something completely unprecedented for their bloodthirsty species. Terrified by the crushing killing intent and the suffocating draconic pressure that had turned their ancient nesting ground into a mass grave, they turned and fled.

The lizards scrambled up the jagged obsidian walls of the crater, disappearing into the dense green canopy of the Tigerwood Forest for what was likely the first time in their evolutionary history.

Behind them lay an endless field of carnage, leaving master and beast standing completely alone in the silent, suffocating dark.

Despite its shattered stamina and the complete depletion of its Beast Force, Neo refused to rest.

The hydra’s insatiable predatory greed proved far too great to ignore the vast heap of biological material lying around its feet. Clawing its way forward, its four heavy legs dragged through the thick sludge of broken scales and bone.

All three heads descended on the corpses like a starved monster driven by pure instinct. Neo activated its All Devour trait with frantic intensity, tearing wide chunks out of the Alpha-rank predators and swallowing their glowing, pulsing cores whole.

Slowly but surely, through that brutal, indiscriminate devouring, the hydra began to rebuild its reserves.

The pale green starlight of its absolute affinity began to gleam once more across its dark scales, and Kale felt his own drained Beast Force reserves slowly refill across their bond.

The sudden recovery was meant to be a welcome respite, a crucial moment to stabilise their broken bodies after enduring the nightmare of the pit.

Instead, without warning, Neo’s tiny frame shuddered violently. It was not a physical twitch or the lingering impact of a mental attack. The deep, violent vibration originated from within the marrow of its bones.

Its multiple draconic hearts began to beat in an erratic, chaotic rhythm that sent harsh waves of discordant energy tearing back through the soul bond.

Kale, who had been leaning heavily against a pile of lizard carcasses to catch his breath, caught the shift instantly. A sharp, searing pain slashed straight through his mind, an agonising feedback loop of sheer agony pouring out from the hydra.

The thick, protective green scales that covered Neo’s hide, caked in dried mud and the filth of the battle, began to shift like a living wave.

It looked as though the creature’s outer skin was turning completely fluid. Hot, iridescent green blood began to burst out from between the joints of its scales. It wasn’t a slow trickle, but a violent, pressurised expulsion of liquid.

From all three of its gaping maws, Neo gagged and coughed up thick pools of dark blood. The fluid poured onto the stone floor, painting the pitch-black rocks with a radiant, bioluminescent glow.

Neo’s physical form, both internally and externally, began to contract and wither in a horrifying manner.

The dense, iron-hard musculature that granted its draconic power appeared to collapse inward, folding upon itself like parchment being crushed under a heavy boot.

The hydra threw all three heads back and released an agonising shriek, a horrific sound carrying the tragic weight of a dying nascent supreme.

Kale sprinted forward toward the collapsing beast, completely ignoring the tearing pain in his exhausted limbs. He grabbed Neo’s small body, his palms becoming coated instantly in the boiling, green blood of his companion.

”What? What the hell is happening?” Kale shouted, his voice cracking with a raw desperation he hadn’t felt since the burning of his Dagan village.

”System! System, give me a scan! What is going on?”

The system failed to reply with its standard mechanical clarity. Instead, it emitted a sharp, high-pitched screech of distorted static, sounding like an old broadcast losing its signal.

The luminous blue windows in Kale’s vision blurred and wavered, as though the system itself was unable to process the sheer scale of the biological Discord tearing through Neo’s body.

Up above, Lazek’s relaxed posture disappeared in an instant. His detached boredom vanished, replaced by a sudden look of sharp, cold panic.

He had witnessed chimaeras collapse before, had seen unstable souls tear their artificial bodies apart until they ruptured into slurry, but this was fundamentally different. He realised in a flash that his disciple’s greatest creation was on the verge of total, irreversible destruction.

Sensing the sudden panic in its master, the flying chimaera folded its wings and executed a steep, violent dive, cutting straight through the mist of the crater.

The Fleshcraft Grandmaster hit the crater floor with a heavy thud, kicking up a thick cloud of obsidian dust. Paying no mind to the mountain of dead lizards or the metallic stench of fresh blood, he rushed directly to Kale’s side.

Without uttering a single word, he reached out and scanned the writhing hydra with his Grandmaster senses, his fingertips glowing with a dark, structural mana.

He pushed his perception deep into the creature’s four brains and four hearts, desperately searching for the core point of instability.

Yet even Lazek, the legendary genius who had mastered all three Artificer professions, could find no simple answer.

To his refined perception, the hydra was dying and undergoing a total rebirth at the exact same moment, its cellular structure reorganising at a terrifying speed that defied every established rule of Fleshcrafting he had spent decades mastering.

The underlying cause behind the collapse remained completely hidden behind a dense, impenetrable veil of draconic sovereignty.

Finally, after a minute that stretched into an eternity of suffocating silence, the system stabilised. The flickering blue screens straightened out, presenting a single, clear message in bold white lettering:

[The Nemesis Hydra is going through a mutation due to the Transformation trait reaching a certain point of breakthrough gained through the constant devouring of Black Chameleons].

The glowing screen cast an ominous light across the cavern as the Hydra’s three heads arched back in a final, silent cry of evolution. The biological discord had reached its absolute climax, and the world seemed to freeze in place as the monster began to evolve.