Genetic Engineer in a Tamer's World

The grand banquet hall of the Sol Ignis palace was a wash of gold and crimson, illuminated by hundreds of floating lamps.

The air smelled of roasted meats, spices, and wine. Kale sat below the royal dais, his posture straight. Wearing apprentice robes, he kept his head lowered to blend into the background. Anonymity was a luxury he could not afford.

At the main table above, the contrast between the royal siblings was remarkably sharp. Prince Renard was boisterous, laughing loudly as he raised his silver goblet to toast the surrounding nobles.

Beside him, Princess Aria sat with absolute poise, her yellow eyes scanning the crowd with quiet, analytical precision.

The sibling rivalry between the two was a silent, tense current beneath the warmth of the music and laughter.

They were locked in a race for the imperial throne, and every word was a calculated move. Renard frequently turned his attention to Kale, treating him like a treasured friend. Aria countered with soft, sharp barbs, testing both her brother’s patience and Kale’s boundaries.

”My brother speaks highly of your progress in the forest, tamer,” Aria said, her voice carrying over the music as she lowered her gold fan. ”He claims you possess a talent that rivals even the old grandmasters. It makes me wonder what kind of secrets Master Oberon is keeping hidden.”

Kale kept his expression calm, offering a polite half-bow.

”The princess flatters me,” he replied. ”My time in the forest was spent entirely on baseline research. Neo is merely a unique chimaera, and my master’s guidance is the only reason I survived. I am nothing more than a simple researcher dedicated to the craft.”

He deliberately painted himself as a narrow-minded academic who cared only for formulas. Playing the part of a humble apprentice was the safest shield against their scrutiny. He knew any display of ambition would instantly turn him into a target.

Renard laughed loudly at his response, while Aria’s eyes narrowed, her gaze lingering on his green hair.

Annoyed by his flat, unyielding facade, Aria decided to test him more directly. She stood up from the dais, her crimson silks rustling softly as she stepped down the stairs. The surrounding nobles fell silent as she walked toward Kale’s table.

As she drew closer, she let her passive Sol Ignis charm radiate fully... a warm, hypnotic weight born of her lineage, a psychological pressure that demanded absolute submission.

Deep within Kale’s mind space, his Mental Bastion trait flared to life. The protective barrier formed a structured wall around his consciousness. Aria’s charm bounced harmlessly off the mental shield, leaving his thoughts completely clear.

But Kale knew reacting with total indifference would expose his defences. To play the part of a normal tamer, he forced a slight hitch in his breathing, pretending to be temporarily overwhelmed.

He kept his eyes lowered, looking at the table. Aria stopped a pace away, her presence smelling of wild ginger and burning wood. She tilted her head, her yellow eyes searching his face for genuine weakness.

”A researcher should not be so shy,” she murmured, her voice carrying a soft warmth. ”A talent like yours deserves to be brought into the light. The royal court has open positions for those cultivating unique beasts.”

”I am deeply honoured by Your Highness’s interest,” Kale said, forcing his voice to tremble slightly.

”But my taming bond requires constant, specialised maintenance that only Master Oberon’s main facilities can provide. To leave the Association now would risk the stability of my research, and I fear I would be of little use to the imperial court under such circumstances.”

Aria watched him for a long moment, her golden fan tapping against her palm. Her high-level charm was active, yet she could feel a strange, invisible barrier preventing her from truly bending his will.

He looked affected, his breath slightly uneven, yet his eyes remained entirely clear when he met her gaze. It was a frustrating anomaly, one that intrigued her deeply but also put her on high alert.

Before she could push further, a young noble heir from one of the great families stepped forward, his expression twisted in jealousy. He had been watching Aria’s attention with rising anger.

”A simple apprentice should know his place when speaking to the princess,” the noble sneered, raising his cup. ”Let us have a friendly toast, commoner. I hope your taming skills are steady.”

The noble secretly channelled a heavy stream of wind-mana into his hand, directing the vibration toward Kale’s glass as they clinked their cups. It was a petty trick meant to shatter the glass and spill the wine over Kale’s robes, exposing him to mockery.

Kale’s tamer perception caught the sudden fluctuation immediately. He did not blink. Utilising precise mana control, he coated his glass in a localised, dense layer of mana.

When the cups met with a soft clink, the noble’s wind-mana collided with Kale’s reinforced barrier. Instead of shattering Kale’s glass, the kinetic energy was deflected and redirected back along its original path.

A sharp crack echoed as the noble’s cup split down the middle, spilling the dark wine over the man’s expensive white silks. The noble gasped, stepping back as the cold fluid soaked through his doublet.

Kale remained perfectly still, his glass completely intact as he took a quiet, slow sip. ”My apologies,” he said flatly, his eyes meeting the noble’s furious gaze. ”It seems your cup was not crafted to withstand the warmth of the hall. Perhaps you should ask the toolcrafters for a stronger alloy next time.”

The precise, effortless display of mana control silenced the immediate tables. Aria’s eyes flashed with sudden, genuine appreciation, while Prince Renard let out a boisterous laugh.

”Well played, tamer!” Renard bellowed, standing up from his seat. ”A fragile cup indeed! Come, the atmosphere in here is turning far too stuffy. Let us take a walk in the gardens, Kale. I wish to show you the rare fire-flora.”

Renard used the commotion to excuse both of them, guiding Kale away from the crowded banquet hall and out onto a private terrace overlooking the outer ring of the capital.

The night air was cool, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and wet stone, a welcome relief from the suffocating pressure of the feast. Once they were alone, the prince’s boisterous, drunken persona vanished, replaced by a cold, serious expression.

”You handled yourself well back there,” Renard said, leaning his hands against the balustrade as he stared out over the city. ”My sister is not an easy woman to navigate, and that young fool from the great families deserved the lesson.

But we do not have much time, Kale. The reason I summoned you here goes far beyond a simple celebratory feast. The political climate is turning dangerous.”

”Has something happened?” Kale asked, keeping his tone measured.

”The Church is becoming increasingly paranoid,” Renard explained, his voice low and tight. ”The slaying of the Red Dragon in the north has rattled the high deacons. They are calling it a heretical act, an insult to the divine order.

High Inquisitors have been dispatched to Stonehelm to investigate the tamer responsible, and their spies are beginning to trace the survivors of the breach in the Tigerwood Forest. They are looking closely at the Greenroot Guild.”

The news sent a cold thread of caution through Kale’s mind. He knew the Church’s net was tightening, but he had not expected them to act so rapidly.

The memory of the Red Dragon’s descent on Dagan burned in his mind. ”The Association is a sovereign entity,” Kale noted. ”The Church cannot simply enter our grounds.”

”The Association can shield you from the low-level inquisitors, but the High Inquisitors carry the authority of the World Dragon itself,” Renard warned, turning to look at him.

”If they find a single scrap of evidence linking you to the dragon’s death, not even Oberon will be able to save you. That is why we must cooperate. I can use my influence within the imperial guard to misdirect their investigations.”

”What kind of things, your highness?” Kale asked.

”When you advance to the Master rank, your fleshcrafting skills will belong to the Association, but your private creations are yours to distribute,” Renard said, his yellow eyes gleaming.

”My faction requires stable, fire-attributed chimaeras to reinforce our private guards. I want your first master-rank creations. Agree to these terms, and the shadow of the Church will never touch your doorstep.”

Kale remained silent for a moment, analysing the offer. He knew the prince was merely using him as a tool for his own ascension, but the temporary protection was exactly what he needed to complete his research.

The Ignis Core was stable, but he still required time to build his strength. ”I understand,” Kale said, offering a quiet nod. ”Once my advancement is finalised, your guards will receive priority.”

”We have a deal then,” Renard smiled, his boisterous persona instantly sliding back into place as he slapped Kale on the shoulder. ”Let us return to the banquet before my sister suspects we are plotting a rebellion.

Remember, tamer... keep your head down and stay in the shadows until you are strong enough.”

They walked back into the warmth of the hall, the music washing over them. Kale adjusted his hood, his green eyes reflecting the flickering lamplight as his mind settled.

The royal siblings were dangerous, but they were merely temporary obstacles on his path.