Rebirth Of The First Tamer

The talentless, auraless trash of the world's greatest beast-contracting family—that was the irony of the century.

Usually, the stronger your bloodline, the stronger your aura affinity. The greater your aura, the greater your chances of contracting a powerful beast—especially in a world where this wasn't just paramount, but the very essence for which everyone lived.

Today, brows climbed and lips stumbled over half-formed words as one young man walked into the awakening hall with his head high, without a care in the world.

Patrick Spec.

Their raised brows carried no admiration, their whispers no good fortune. Their gazes were thick with mockery, the kind that bit deep and settled in the lungs.

"I can't believe he actually showed up. Today is the day every coming-of-age teen contracts their beast, and to do that you need aura—any amount at all. He has none."

"He must have a death wish coming here! What does he think is going to happen?" another added.

Patrick ignored every sneer and disdain-soaked word.

His eyes found his parents—his former parents. The Spec family had evicted him and his mother the instant they confirmed he carried no aura. They called him a stain on the long-standing prestige of a family renowned across the continent for contracting the most powerful beasts.

His grandfather hadn't hesitated before casting his mother into the streets, while his father stood by in silence.

Patrick's vision tinted red, his hands trembling. He swallowed hard against the anger pulsing through his veins, staring at the man who was supposed to have loved and raised him.

"What are you doing here?" His stepbrother—the one who had stolen his place—stepped forward with a glare.

Prince was the golden child of the Spec family, born with abundant aura and groomed for the sole purpose of dominating the beast realm. As disgusting as it was, he was every girl's dream.

"Our family ties were severed long ago, so I don't owe you a response," Patrick said. "Besides, it's obvious what I'm here to do—same as everyone else."

A ripple of gasps rolled through the hall. Faces stretched with shock at hearing him speak back to their prince charming—so different from the quiet boy who used to stutter at harsh words and stumble at their commands.

That version of him was dead.

"He's grown bold, hasn't he—the city's trash, everyone's punching bag! What makes him think he can speak to Prince like an equal?" The crowd turned on him fast, rallying behind his stepbrother without shame. "He won't last long. He'll be put in his place soon enough."

"Patrick!" His grandfather's voice cut through the noise, the name sitting bitter on his tongue, his face contorting just from saying it. "Stop embarrassing the Spec family. Your birth already did enough damage."

"I don't answer to you either, old man."

The hall went rigid.

His grandfather's hands curled slowly at his sides, trembling—not from fear, but from white-hot rage. Then his expression eased into something colder.

"You're right. You don't belong to this family. Whatever happens to you carries no weight on us."

The crowd cheered. Patrick almost smiled. The old man backed down only because this hall belonged to the Secret Society of Tamers, who enforced their rules without exception.

"Let him do whatever he wants. Without aura, he won't awaken anything significant—if he awakens anything at all." More cheering. The crowd was certain he wouldn't.

That would have been true, if this were really Patrick.

He scoffed.

Patrick had died last night. He could no longer bear the shame, the discrimination, and with the death of the only person who had truly loved him, his mother, so he chose to end it.

The soul in this body now was Patrick Hue—the first beast tamer the world had ever known. A century ago, he had built the Taming Society after discovering the power to contract beasts. When he rose to the peak, he was assassinated, only to awaken one hundred years later in this broken boy's body to seek revenge and set the record straight.

After his rebirth, the original Patrick's memories had flooded in like ice water filling his lungs. Even after the eviction, the family hadn't stopped. They had tortured him and his mother, and made their lives a deliberate hell. They forced him to bark for their amusement, treating him worse than the beasts they contracted.

For those moments, he felt every emotion, every ache, every rage that had lived powerless in this body. Now he was going to correct everything. He owed this broken boy that much.

The greatest irony? Patrick hadn't been born auraless. This body possessed one of the most extraordinary aura reserves he had ever encountered. Through forbidden sorcery, his stepbrother had drained every drop at birth, siphoning it into himself while leaving Patrick hollow.

And still they played God. Pathetic.

Heavy footsteps on cobblestone drew the hall to stillness. Arch Tamer George stepped onto the stage, placing two orbs—one polished and elevated for the privileged, another plain and set aside for those who couldn't afford the first. Contestants approached in pairs.

Patrick's jaw tightened, fists clenching.

This wasn't the Taming Society he had founded. Two separate orbs—one for wealth, one for the rest. He wanted to smash both and say exactly what he thought to the Arch Tamer's face, but this body wasn't ready for that kind of confrontation.

He exhaled slowly, letting the rage settle beneath the surface.

"Lady Clover—B-Rank Serpent Beast!" the announcer called.

Some announcements pulled genuine awe from the crowd, sealing futures in an instant. Others drew cruel laughter, sending failed contractors fleeing in tears.

Then it was their turn. Patrick and Prince.

The hall went graveyard quiet. No whispers. No shuffling. Only taut breathing and hearts loud in their own ears.

Prince wore a broad smile as he glanced at Patrick, whose face gave nothing away.

"One piece of advice, street trash—everyone knows I'm going to awaken something legendary. You?" He let the pause stretch. "Don't waste our time."

Patrick didn't respond. The founder of beast taming had no business trading words with an arrogant boy who understood nothing.

Prince's smile faltered, his face reddening. In his entire life, no one had ignored him. Not once.

"I'll make sure you pay for that once we're outside," he growled.

They placed their hands on their respective orbs. Prince was already grinning before contact.

He touched the surface with absolute confidence, and the orb blazed so brilliantly that everyone squeezed their eyes shut, straining to keep watching.

Then the light died.

The announcer's breath caught, his eyes widening by the second as he spoke in one rushed exhale:

"Patrick Spec awakens an SSS-Class Dragon Beast!"

The dragon erupted through the hall—golden scales catching every fragment of light, the floor shaking beneath its presence, the air itself pressing outward in waves.

"And Prince Spec awakens an F-Class Cat!"

Silence collapsed over the room like a physical weight, settling into every chest.

"That's—that's impossible!" Helena Spec's voice cracked as she surged forward toward her son.