The Lazy Hero Who Became a Legendary Beast Tamer

Chapter 3: The Fearful Tamer

Greg stared at the griffin hatchling perched on his shoulder, feeling the weight of its bright, glowing eyes drilling into him. It wasn't threatening—far from it—but every time he glanced at it, his stomach twisted in knots. It was small, barely bigger than a cat, and its soft feathers were a pleasant shade of pale gold. The tiny, innocent chirps it made as it nuzzled against his cheek only made Greg more uncomfortable.

He hated it. Not because it was dangerous—it wasn't—but because it was now his responsibility. And Greg wasn't ready for responsibility. Not now, not ever. He never asked for any of this.

"Go away," Greg muttered under his breath, trying to shake the griffin off his shoulder. But it didn't work. The griffin simply fluttered its wings and squawked, perching on his other shoulder with remarkable ease. It was relentless.

Greg felt his frustration boil over. He was a grown man, and here he was, acting like a kid trying to fend off a stray animal. What had happened to the world he knew, the world where you didn't have magical creatures bound to your every step?

"Please," Greg begged softly, his voice cracking. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this."

But the griffin just cocked its head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. As if it were saying, "Well, tough luck, buddy."

Greg sighed in defeat. He couldn't run from it, he couldn't hide from it. The griffin was here to stay, and he had no idea how to deal with it. For the next few minutes, he tried everything in his power to get the creature to leave him alone. He waved his arms. He shooed it. He even crouched down and pretended to sleep, hoping it would get bored and fly off. But nothing worked. It just kept following him around.

I can't deal with this. I can't deal with any of this, Greg thought. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't some legendary beast tamer. He just wanted to go home and take a nap. Was that so much to ask?

With a frustrated sigh, he leaned against the nearest tree, crossing his arms over his chest. The griffin perched on a branch above him, staring down at him with unblinking eyes, clearly expecting him to do something.

Greg closed his eyes, trying to ignore the little creature for the hundredth time. As he did, something strange happened—he felt a sudden pull, as if the griffin was tugging at him in some intangible way. It wasn't physical, but it was undeniably present, a sense of connection that felt... unnatural.

His mind raced. What the hell was that?

Then, without thinking, he muttered, "Follow me."

To his shock, the griffin immediately hopped off the branch and followed him, landing softly on the ground beside him.

Greg froze. He hadn't meant to say that. He wasn't trying to give it an order, it had just slipped out. But now the griffin was obeying him. It wasn't just following him as a curious creature might; it was as though it had to.

Greg gulped, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He hadn't realized it at first, but his mind was racing. The way the griffin obeyed—it wasn't natural. He'd given an order, a simple command, and it had responded like it was... programmed to do so.

Wait a minute.

Greg's pulse quickened. Could this be... his power? The power he'd been granted when he was pulled into this world?

Before he could analyze it further, there was a rustling sound behind him. Greg stiffened, his senses going on high alert. He was too distracted by his growing panic about the griffin to notice what was coming for him.

The sound grew louder. Something else was nearby.

Greg tensed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Not another one. Please, not another one.

Turning slowly, he saw a small, sleek creature darting out from behind a bush. It was like a fox, but with iridescent fur that shimmered in the sunlight. Its eyes glowed a soft purple, and its tail trailed behind it like a wispy cloud of smoke.

Greg froze. Nope. Nope. Nope.

"Please, no," he whispered, backing away slowly. His hands trembled. The griffin chirped once, its head tilting to the side as it looked between Greg and the new creature.

The fox—if that's even what it was—cautiously approached, its movements fluid and graceful. It didn't seem particularly dangerous, but in that moment, Greg felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. One misstep, and he'd be plunged into something he didn't understand.

The fox stopped just a few feet away, its glowing eyes locked on Greg's. Greg could feel it. The same pull, the same connection that he felt earlier with the griffin. It was there again, tugging at him, urging him to do something.

"Don't..." Greg muttered under his breath, but before he could finish his sentence, he felt his mouth move without his control.

"Stay."

To his horror, the fox sat down immediately.

Greg stared in disbelief. What? He hadn't meant to give the creature an order, but it had obeyed. Just like the griffin.

He felt an overwhelming sense of panic rise in his chest. He was losing control of the situation—hell, he was losing control of his own body. And the worst part was, he was starting to feel... attached to these creatures.

The griffin hopped over to stand beside the fox, clearly content with its new company, and Greg stood frozen, staring at the two creatures who were now his. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know how this had happened, let alone how to undo it.

"Great," Greg muttered, his voice a strained whisper. "I'm a beast tamer now."

But instead of feeling proud or empowered, he felt a deep sense of dread. These creatures were drawn to him for some reason he didn't understand, and the power he had didn't make him feel stronger. It made him feel small.

And that's when it hit him: this wasn't some random gift. This was something bigger. Something much bigger.

He couldn't escape this power. He couldn't escape this world.

And the more he tried to run, the deeper he'd fall into the tangled web of fate he hadn't asked for.

Greg stood there, a frozen statue in the middle of the forest, his heart racing as the fox sat obediently before him. The griffin perched on his other side, its beady eyes following every subtle movement Greg made. A strange, uncomfortable sense of power welled up inside him, but it didn't feel right. It wasn't the kind of power Greg had ever asked for or even wanted.

His mind raced with questions he couldn't answer. What the hell is happening? Why do they obey me? He had no idea how or why his words had influenced them, and it was starting to make his skin crawl. The idea that he could command these creatures, powerful beasts from a world he didn't understand, was terrifying. They weren't pets. They weren't toys to be controlled—they were living beings with their own will, and yet, here he was, shaping their actions without even knowing how he was doing it.

The fox's purple eyes glowed softly as it tilted its head slightly, and Greg couldn't shake the feeling that it was silently judging him, as if it knew just how out of place he felt in this new world.

"What do you want from me?" Greg whispered to no one in particular, his voice strained. The creatures didn't answer, of course. They couldn't.

He looked around, his sense of dread deepening. The forest seemed to close in on him, the trees now feeling less like a sanctuary and more like a labyrinth of unknown dangers. He could hear the distant sounds of rustling in the trees, the strange howls and calls of creatures whose names he didn't know. The air around him was thick with the scent of wet earth and fresh leaves, but it all felt too real—too alive. This wasn't some video game or fantasy story anymore. This was real.

Suddenly, the griffin let out a sharp, high-pitched cry, drawing Greg's attention. The little creature flapped its wings and took to the air, its tiny form circling Greg in a wide, excited arc before diving down to land back on his shoulder. It chirped happily as if it was trying to reassure him, or maybe just demanding attention.

Greg's stomach tightened. He hadn't asked for any of this, and he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with it. But the creatures—both of them—seemed to be looking at him with expectation, their loyalty unwavering. It was unnerving.

"Look," Greg said, his voice shaky, "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not a hero. I'm not even a... a 'beast tamer.' I just wanted to sleep, okay?"

The griffin blinked, then preened its feathers as though completely unfazed by his outburst. The fox, meanwhile, seemed to watch him with a level of quiet curiosity, its glowing eyes flickering in the light.

"I don't even know how I did that," Greg muttered, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "How did I command you? I didn't mean to. I don't even know if I want to be a tamer. Maybe I just want to go home, huh?"

But that was the crux of it, wasn't it? There was no going home. No easy escape. He had tried running before—he'd tried to hide—but the world wouldn't let him. The magic was too strong. It pulled at him, and so far, every time he tried to retreat, he found himself deeper in the forest, surrounded by strange and powerful creatures that seemed drawn to him as though he were a magnet.

Why? he thought, swallowing hard. Why am I the one who has this power?

"Okay," Greg said, standing up straighter despite the heavy dread sitting in his stomach. "Okay, fine. If you're going to stick with me, I guess I have to figure this out. But I'm not going to be some... 'beast tamer.' I'm not a leader. I'm just Greg—just a guy who didn't sign up for any of this."

The fox tilted its head again, and the griffin chirped in agreement, though Greg couldn't tell if it was mocking him or simply trying to communicate.

Suddenly, he heard something else—a sound in the distance, just beyond the clearing. It was a low, rumbling growl. His instincts screamed for him to turn and run, but he knew that wasn't an option. Whatever it was, it was approaching fast, and it sounded big.

"Great. Just what I need," Greg muttered, his heart pounding. "More creatures."

The griffon flapped its wings, alert now, as if it too sensed the incoming danger. Greg's breath quickened, and his mind scrambled for options. He wasn't equipped to deal with a fight. Hell, he wasn't equipped to deal with anything in this world.

The growling continued to draw closer, and Greg looked around, his eyes frantic. He had no weapons, no strategy. Nothing but his two unwilling companions and a power he couldn't control.

With trembling hands, he muttered, "Stay close. Protect me."

At his command, the griffon and fox sprang into action. The griffon let out a loud, screeching cry and flew high into the air, its wings flapping with surprising force as it prepared for whatever was coming. The fox, too, bristled, its fur shifting as the purple glow around it intensified.

Greg's breath hitched. I just told them to protect me. And they listened. Again.

He didn't know what else to do, so he stepped back, trying to find a defensible position near the edge of the forest, keeping his eyes on the approaching threat. Whatever it was, he couldn't face it alone—not without knowing how to fully control his powers.

Suddenly, a large shape emerged from the trees, and Greg's heart skipped a beat. The creature was massive—easily the size of a bear, with sleek, dark fur and sharp claws that glinted in the fading sunlight. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Greg, and a low, menacing growl escaped from its throat.

"Great," Greg whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just... great."

The creature stalked toward him, its claws scraping against the ground with each step, the earth trembling under its weight. Greg's eyes flicked to his companions, the griffon circling above, ready to dive down, and the fox crouched low, poised for an attack.

He had no idea what would happen next, but one thing was for sure—he wasn't alone anymore.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the only thing that would keep him alive.