The Phantom Stalker shifted, its near-invisible form outlined by the remnants of Moon Ash dust still lingering in the air. It moved with unnatural grace—darting between shadows, its limbs stretching and twisting like liquid darkness.
Leon didn't flinch.
He had fought creatures like this before—beings that preyed on confusion, that thrived on fear. They were nightmares given form, but they all had one fatal weakness.
They weren't used to prey that fought back.
The creature lunged.
Leon reacted instantly. His foot dug into the dirt as he spun sideways, barely avoiding the attack. A chilling gust followed in its wake, the air twisting unnaturally as the stalker's claws slashed past him.
Instead of retreating, Leon advanced.
Close the gap.
These creatures relied on deception and distance. The closer he got, the harder it was for them to maneuver.
His grip tightened around the Beast Tamer's Whistle.
---
The Phantom Stalker realized too late—Leon wasn't running. He was attacking.
Just as the creature moved to retreat, Leon blew into the whistle.
A sharp, piercing note cut through the night air.
The stalker froze.
A Beast Tamer's Whistle wasn't just a tool for commanding tamed beasts. At its core, it was a dominance tool—a method of asserting control over creatures with beast-like instincts.
And Phantom Stalkers, despite their spectral nature, were still hunters.
For the first time, it hesitated. Its unnatural body twitched, as if trying to resist an instinctive urge to submit.
Leon smirked. Got you.
He lunged forward, his fist striking out. He wasn't strong enough to kill it outright—not yet—but the blow landed, sending a shock through the stalker's ethereal form. It let out a distorted shriek and stumbled backward.
Leon didn't let up.
He pressed the attack, forcing the creature toward the fence. It lashed out in desperation, its claws raking the air just inches from his face, but it was losing control.
This is what happens when a predator faces something it doesn't understand.
Leon reached into his pouch again. He didn't have a full Taming Contract yet, but he had something just as useful—
A Binding Tag.
A temporary subjugation tool, usually used to calm aggressive animals. Against normal beasts, it worked instantly. Against something as dangerous as this?
He'd have to overpower it.
Leon slammed the tag against the stalker's chest.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—a burst of light.
The creature shrieked as glowing symbols spread across its body, locking it in place. Its form flickered violently, struggling, resisting—
But Leon leaned in, his voice calm, controlled.
"You belong to me now."
The struggle slowed.
The Phantom Stalker's body twitched—once, twice—before finally stilling. The symbols burned brightly, then faded into its flesh.
Leon released a slow breath.
It was done.
The stalker didn't disappear, didn't lash out again. It stayed.
Tamed.
---
A sharp inhale came from behind him.
Leon turned to see Harwin standing by the barn, eyes wide with shock.
"You…" The farmer's voice wavered. "You caught it?"
Leon glanced at the Phantom Stalker, now crouched beside him, its ghostly form still shifting but no longer hostile.
He looked back at Harwin, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"I told you," Leon said simply. "I'm a Beast Tamer."
And this?
This was only the beginning.
---