Fan Yumei watched intently from the observation deck as Jin Minhe stepped into the circular arena below. The crowd's hum thickened with anticipation, the electric scent of charged qi weaving through the air like a silent storm. At his side lumbered his beast—the Glutton Panda—an odd mix of lethargy and barely contained hunger. Normally lazy and gluttonous, today it carried a rare sharpness, a flicker of vigilance that set it apart.
Jin Minhe raised a small treat bag and waved it teasingly. "Perform and listen to me well, and we'll be able to buy you a whole castle of high-energy beast treats."
The word "treats" perked the panda's ears, a ripple of fiery qi shimmering over its fur like molten lava. Even in repose, the beast radiated hunger—more than just for food, but for the next battle.
Their opponent emerged from Division Four—a whip-wielding beastmaster commanding a spectral serpent. The serpent slithered with a flickering flame, its fire qi weaving like liquid heat. It flicked its tongue, eyes sharp and calculating, ready to suppress and overwhelm.
The arena floor offered no aerial freedom, only tight space for raw, personal combat. The panda, true to its nickname, flopped down suddenly—rolling into a roaring fire panda boulder that spun faster and faster, sparks flying from its fur.
Jin Minhe's voice cut low but precise. Instead of overwhelming force, he wove a web of traps—redirecting wind and heat qi to blur the serpent's senses, scattering mirages across the arena. The serpent struck blindly, overreaching into the illusions.
"You're still a salted fish," Jin Minhe muttered with a fond edge, "but you're my salted fish."
The panda shifted again, swelling mid-roll into a massive fiery sphere before abruptly condensing into a lean, compact form humming with compressed fire qi. Heat clung like molten chains, eyes locked with renewed focus.
With a sudden inhale, the panda's devouring power flared, pulling in the serpent's qi trail like a black hole. The serpent's elemental core flickered dangerously.
One fire-infused swipe from the panda disrupted the serpent's rhythm, leaving it staggered.
Jin Minhe moved in, delivering two swift strikes—efficient, controlled, cold as ice. The serpent collapsed, qi unraveled, tactical submission secured.
The crowd roared, but Jin Minhe's eyes stayed calm, though a sharp pain throbbed at his shoulder.
Back on the observation deck, Fan Yumei felt the weight of his fight settle in her chest. She caught a flashback flickering in Jin Minhe's eyes—memories of a brutal fall, the sharp sting of defeat when Wu Bao's beast spiraled out of control. The taste of blood, the aching loss, the bitter lesson shaping a new fighting style: one less brute force, more cunning precision.
Lufei, her emerald crystal antler spirit deer, curled near her, casting a gentle green glow. Maxius, the phantom golden eagle with his flickering invisible wing, perched silently beside her.
Zhou Qian approached with his trademark grin. "You look like you're about to invent a new Beastmaster technique just by staring."
Kai Shi smirked, folding his arms. "Or maybe she's just trying to figure out how to get out of training today."
Fan Yumei shot them a pointed look. "If I could, I'd be chilling with a cloud latte instead of stressing about qi interference."
Qin Min chuckled, shaking his head. "Cloud latte? That's way too extra for this place."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Says the guy who yelled motivational quotes at his serpent to train it."
Zhou laughed. "Hey, it kinda worked… maybe we all need to start yelling."
Fan Yumei pulled out a small scroll. "I've got this discipline scroll for Mystic. It reinforces qi communication and focus. If you want, I can share copies—could come in handy with all the interference going around."
Kai glanced over it with mild interest. "Fancy. Not just flash and no substance."
Qin nodded. "Definitely useful. Especially if our beasts zone out mid-fight."
Zhou grinned. "Count me in—anything to keep my serpent awake."
Fan Yumei smiled, feeling the warmth of friendship ease her tension. "Alright, you'll each get one. Just don't blame me if your beasts start reciting poetry instead of fighting."
Kai laughed. "Deal. But only if you keep that cloud latte."
Fan Yumei rolled her eyes but grinned. "No promises."
Later, Principal Renshu arrived with Guild Commander Qian Shiyan. The principal's cane tapped rhythmically on the polished floor.
"We've seen qi markers like your beasts' before," Renshu said, eyes sharp behind thin glasses, "from records centuries old. But nothing exactly like your bonds."
Qian Shiyan nodded. "Your beasts—Lufei, Maxius—and especially Mystic, are echoes of lost bloodlines."
Fan Yumei's breath caught.
Qian Shiyan pulled her aside. "You need to register Mystic with the Wild Zone Transport Guild. Your bond gives you unique privileges. Mystic isn't a normal student beast—she's exceptional. The Academy can teach technique, but not how to handle her. My guild will."
He paused, serious. "Registering her will grant access to resources, funding, and special transport in the Wild Zones. Even if it means missing classes, Mystic's potential can't be wasted."
Fan Yumei calmly produced a neat stack of papers from her satchel. "These are my recommendation letters and registration documents from the Federation Beast Registry—the day Mystic was licensed."
Renshu adjusted his glasses, impressed. Qian Shiyan smiled, pleased.
"Well done, Fan Yumei. You're beyond ready."
Back in her personal training suite, Fan Yumei knelt, closing her eyes. Around her, Lufei's antlers shimmered with complex spirit patterns, Maxius folded his phantom wing, and Mystic pulsed with storm energy.
Their bond deepened, evolving into something unseen.
Suddenly, news arrived from the ground arena: a Division Eight rival unleashed a hidden ability—a qi interference field scrambling all beast qi commands within ten meters, causing chaos.
Fan Yumei's eyes narrowed. "That's no ordinary suppression. It's soul-tempered counter-resonance."
Emergency protocols triggered. Beastmasters faltered. Some beasts lost sync, one nearly turned hostile.
Fan Yumei, Jin Minhe, Liang Chenwu, Min Zhao, and Zhou Qian gathered, tension heavy.
"If they're using interference like this," Fan Yumei said, "our bond isn't luxury—it's survival."
Jin Minhe nodded. "Then we train to move as one—no hesitation, no misfires."
The stakes had risen.
This was identity against interference.
Soul versus suppression.
Mystic's eyes glowed softly. Fan Yumei whispered, "I'm not scared."
Mystic flicked a playful puff of cloud.
Challenge accepted.