I am Just an Average Tamer

Time slipped by quietly.

Then.

Click! Click! Click!

Soft, rhythmic sound of heels echoed from the corridor outside, as a woman stepped in, her stride confident, her expression unreadable.

She wore a crisp navy coat, finely tailored, the sleeves rolled slightly to reveal silver-accented cuffs.

Her chestnut-brown hair was tied in a professional bun, and a pair of frameless glasses sat neatly on her nose. Her presence alone straightened a few postures.

She moved to the podium at the front.

Thud!

And set a thick, rune-etched book down with a quiet thud, and glanced across the class with calculating eyes.

Then she smiled.

"Good morning," she began, voice calm but firm. "I am Professor Iris Owen, your instructor for Beastology Basics."

A few students exchanged looks, while others visibly relaxed, she didn't seem the type to start the day with surprise quizzes or death glares.

"I know some of you are wondering why you even have to take this class," she said, resting a hand casually on the podium. "Especially those of you who aren't beast tamers."

A light ripple of murmurs rolled through the room. A few heads nodded. Some leaned back, clearly thinking the same thing.

Professor Iris waited for the room to settle again, then continued, voice sharper now.

"But this class isn't just for tamers."

She walked to the edge of the platform and looked directly at a swordsman student yawning in the third row.

"This is for anyone who ever plans to leave city walls."

Her voice dropped just slightly, drawing their attention in.

"Let me paint a simple picture."

She raised a finger.

"You're not a tamer. Maybe a swordsman, or a mage. You head out for training, or an expedition, maybe just escort duty. But something happens, maybe your party scatters, maybe you're ambushed, and you end up injured, alone… lost in a forest."

She began pacing slowly.

"And then… you hear a growl. A wild beast appears. It's faster than you. Stronger than you. More used to the terrain than you'll ever be."

She stopped and looked around the room again. Some students straightened. The atmosphere shifted.

"At that point, your fancy sword won't save you. And your overconfidence will get you killed."

She tapped her book once.

"But… if you had even a basic understanding of beast behavior, signs of territory, hints of aggression, how certain species react to fear or injury, then maybe, maybe, you could avoid it. Or outsmart it. Or escape alive."

A thoughtful silence followed.

Even the arrogant-looking noble boy at the back scratched his chin.

Lira, still resting her chin on her hand, watched the professor with mild curiosity. Snow hissed quietly, almost in approval.

Professor Iris smiled faintly.

"This class won't make you a beast tamer. But it might keep you alive."

She walked back to the podium, flipped open the book.

"Let's begin."

Professor Iris adjusted her glasses, then looked up as the chalk floated beside her in the air.

"But before we dive into the main topic," she said, "let's revise a few basic truths about beasts."

She turned to the board, and the chalk began moving smoothly, almost elegantly, under her direction.

Beasts.

Then she faced the class again, folding her hands behind her back.

"Who are they?"

A few students blinked at the phrasing. One hand halfway rose and hesitated. Iris didn't wait.

"They are not just monsters," she said calmly. "They are not brainless threats meant to be slain for coin or glory."

She began to pace again, voice steady, deliberate.

"Beasts are living creatures born from the same world as we are. They feel. They think. They bleed. Some even speak. Some build their own habitants and even lead."

She paused.

"And they are not so different from us."

The chalk continued moving behind her, writing in smooth, cursive strokes:

'Emotion. Intellect. Will. Instinct.'

"Many of you will grow stronger and see them only as stepping stones, mere targets for your weapons or partners to tame and control. But if you truly want to understand them, and not just use them, you must start here."

Her gaze swept the room again.

"Respect their existence."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, with a flick, she brought up the next heading:

Beast Classification, by Rarity

The air seemed to tighten slightly, interest rising.

"We often measure beasts not just by their strength, but by their rarity. And rarity isn't just about how hard they are to find, it's also about how they're connected to the world."

The chalk scribbled as she spoke:

Common – "They are found in majority, around all the places. They are often non-magical or weakly attuned."

Uncommon – "These are bit more dangerous than them. They possess magical traits and bit stronger instincts. They usually appear in low-tier dungeons or outskirts of deeper forests."

Rare – "These beasts possess some unique traits, rare elemental affinities, or evolved intelligence. They're often the first tier capable of restricting contracts even from the skilled tamers."

Exotic – "They are very rare and often region-specific. Sometimes they born from unstable mana environments or mutated bloodlines, and even decaying essence from their parent. They possess unpredictable traits."

Mystic – "These are the beasts that are woven deeply into the fabric of mana or essence itself. They are usually one of a kind, or born once in centuries. Most mystics are capable of speech or possess domain-like abilities."

Mythical – "These are born of legends. Tied to the creation myths of nations or ancient ruins. They were often bonded to ancient events or civilizations that are long gone. These beasts were strong enough shift the tide of wars, just being there, even without lifting their tail."

Primordial – The chalk wrote it slower.

"These are the rarest classification," Iris said softly. "Beasts untouched by time, older than most known species. The origin of all bloodlines. Some say the world shaped around them. Or they shaped the world around them. They're even described as the gods, according to some ancient texts, creator of all beasts, some even mentioned that they shaped that they shaped the whole universe, birthed each species to the existence."

A murmur passed through the students again. Even the more stoic types sat straighter.

"But they were just text, written by beings like us, who themselves hadn't seen them. Though, that's not today's topic, we'll discuss about them another day."

"And remember," she said, voice dipping lower, "rarity doesn't always mean power. But it often means potential."

She turned and underlined the last three words on the board:

'Potential. Evolution. Instinct.'

"Some common beasts can evolve, through trauma, environment, or bond, and surpass even rare-ranked ones. And some rare ones, if mistreated or misunderstood, will never grow at all."

Then she faced the class again.

"So the next time you look at a beast, don't just ask what it is."

She let the pause stretch.

"Ask who it could become."