When it came to monster taming, there was no singular defining method. There were, after all, as many ways to go about it as there were practitioners of the art.
Just as one could raise a monster as a pet from a young age, building a natural bond with it over the years, one could also force a monster to obey by defeating it in battle and establishing a hierarchy. There was also the simple option of feeding a monster its favorite food on the regular, using that as an incentive to convince the creature to obey commands.
Throwing magic into the mix, there also existed magical tools that would cause the monster pain if it disobeyed, and that was just one method. There was a nigh-endless variety of manners in which a monster tamer could practice their craft, and no one individual could claim to know them all. And as it happened, Ingo’s method differed from any I’d ever researched or heard of before.
He led me a short distance farther into the forest before coming to a stop. “That slime should do nicely,” he said happily, pointing out one the size of a small cat or dog. “I’m going to tame it and make it my familiar, so watch closely with your magic eyes.”
“Why that slime in particular?” I asked.
“Honestly, any small monster would do as an example, but if it’s a slime, I can have it meld into this fellow when we’re done,” Ingo explained, indicating the gran slime at his side. “I’ve already got quite a few familiars, so I’d rather not take on the additional effort of caring for more.”
I thought that sounded quite practical. Nevertheless... “You’re going to force them to meld, you said?”
“Yes, but I can only do that with slimes as a general rule.”
“General rule, meaning... There are exceptions?”
“I suppose. But it’s quite an advanced technique, and failures can be catastrophic. At your stage, it’s best not to try.”
“I see. Well, the fundamentals are called that for a reason.” It was the same with alchemy—there were more stories than I could list of hasty practitioners biting off more than they could chew and accidentally blowing up a town as a result. It made sense that monster taming could have similarly disastrous results, especially with Ingo’s method, which could tame monsters such as gran slimes.
“Very sensible of you,” Ingo said. “You’re a good student, Lorraine. I might worry about a lack of curiosity, but something tells me that won’t be a problem for you.”
“I am a scholar, after all. Where knowledge exists, I seek to find it. Perhaps not at the cost of my own ruin, though.”
“All things in moderation,” Ingo agreed. “Right, I’m going to begin the taming process.”
“I’ll watch carefully, then.”
Ingo retrieved a small knife from his belt and used it to prick his own index finger. Just as I was wondering what he was up to, I saw his internal mana begin to coalesce in his finger—no, in his blood.
“I could have done this part at home,” Ingo explained. “But it only lasts about a day, and its efficacy drops as time passes. Besides, each monster requires its own specific concentration of mana.”
After verifying my observation that he’d infused the blood with enough mana, he used his free hand to retrieve a small test tube, into which he tapped a single, scarlet drop. It seemed the tube itself was specially constructed, because it completely trapped the mana inside. That caught my interest, and a number of possible materials it could be made from came to mind before Ingo seemed to catch on to the direction of my thoughts.
“I’ll tell you how to make one of these later,” he said, chuckling. “It’s a method I inherited. That said, I actually get most of mine from Gharb.”
“Thank you. I must say, you’re a treasure trove of knowledge.”
“It’s all just passed down to me by my predecessors. I think the other villages around here used to inherit similar knowledge, but I don’t know if that’s the case anymore. We might be the only ones left—but then again, we might not. Who knows?”
It actually wasn’t unusual for people of the modern age to stumble across knowledge or technology from long-lost times. A village like Hathara that inherited age-old techniques in secret, quietly guarding a nearby ancient ruin, probably wasn’t all that unique in the grand scheme of things.
Nevertheless, I thought it was quite extraordinary that I had been given the chance to learn that knowledge. After all, it was the kind of opportunity that came once in a lifetime, if it even came at all.
“I would like to study it more, if I have the time,” I admitted. “But right now, learning your taming technique takes priority.”
“That it does,” Ingo agreed. “Now, I’ll approach the monster alone. Stay next to my gran slime and be as quiet as possible, all right?”
The familiar in question was pressing itself against the ground, as if making its best attempt to hide. That was likely why the small wild slime hadn’t noticed us yet.
“Okay,” I acknowledged. “How are you going to use that test tube?”
“I’m going to throw it. Once it lands, my mana will pour into the slime using my blood as a medium. For monsters as weak as slimes, I usually just drop my blood directly onto it from my finger—and with how proficient you are with mana control, you likely won’t need to go through these individual steps either. But I figured I’d make it as clear as possible how the process works.”
“That makes sense.”
“All right. Here I go,” Ingo said. He began to approach the slime, moving carefully in order to avoid notice.