The night air at the coastal cliffs was thick with the scent of salt and the metallic tang of suppressed mana.
Below the jagged precipice, three figures in reinforced tactical cloaks struggled with a Coralhide Snapjaw. The beast was a mess of jagged, coral-like plates and powerful muscle, but the artifact collar around its neck pulsed with a sickly yellow light, draining its strength and forcing it to crawl.
"Keep the dampener tight!" one of the poachers barked. "The Saltwind guards are too busy celebrating that brat's double-duel to notice a stray Snapjaw going missing."
Jeather stepped out from the shadow of a sea-worn monolith. The moonlight caught the silver trim of his academy uniform—now torn and stained with dust from the arena.
"Actually," Jeather said, his voice cutting through the crashing waves, "the brat didn't get much sleep. He's a bit cranky."
The poachers spun around, three mana-sabers humming to life with a low, dangerous buzz. These weren't students; they were professionals.
"Academy kid," the leader spat. "Go back to your dorm before you lose more than just a rank."
Inside the Beast Realm, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Velkaria paced her frost-veined pillar. "Three targets. Mid-Silver tier. Their gear is specialized for suppression, Jeather. Be careful."
Saxum vibrated in his Metal Form. "Jett! Smash! Save the snappy-turtle!"
The Otter was frantically gathering loose spirit stones. "Business! This is bad for business! Unless we take their stuff!"
Jeather didn't call on the Rifthound; it needed rest. He didn't call on Astrael; the demon's aura was too recognizable.
"Ice Abyss Weaver," Jeather whispered.
[System Notification: Summoning Ice Abyss Weaver...]
[Environment Sync: Coastal Humidity +12% Cryo-Effectiveness]
The air temperature plummeted. A flurry of crystalline frost erupted at Jeather's feet. From the white mist, the Weaver emerged—eight legs clicking against the wet stone, its eyes glowing with a freezing, subterranean blue.
The poachers lunged. Two moved to flank while the third stayed back, his hand hovering over a detonator.
The Weaver didn't flinch. It fired a volley of Glacial Silk, not at the men, but at the wet ground beneath them. The cliffside turned into a skating rink of jagged ice. As the poachers lost their footing, the Weaver moved with terrifying, arachnid grace, weaving between them and leaving frost-burns in its wake.
Jeather moved in tandem. He ducked a saber swing, grabbed the leader's wrist, and twisted until the bone groaned.
"The collar," Jeather commanded.
The Weaver understood. It shot a concentrated needle of ice into the collar's power source. The yellow light flickered and died. The Snapjaw let out a guttural roar, its coral plates flaring red as the suppression lifted. It lunged at its former captors with the fury of the sea.
Minutes later, the poachers were unconscious, tied up in unbreakable abyssal silk. Jeather knelt by the beast. The Snapjaw nudged his hand, sensing the sanctuary radiating from his soul.
[System Notification: Rare Variant 'Coralhide Snapjaw' has accepted the Seal.]
[Integrating New Subject into Beast Habitat Realm...]
Suddenly, Jeather's vision blurred as the System pushed a massive update to his mental map. For the first time, the Realm wasn't just a void—it was a structured ecosystem.
[Beast Habitat Realm: Status Map Updated]
[Abyssal Throne]: Occupied by Astrael. (Mana Regen +15%)
[Frost-Veined Spire]: Occupied by Velkaria & Ice Abyss Weaver.
[The Sunken Crater]: Occupied by Basilisk & Chimera.
[Living Quarry]: Occupied by Saxum.
[Void Fracture]: Occupied by Mutated Rifthound. (Status: Unstable)
[The Chaotic Pond]: Occupied by The Otter.
[Tidal Tidepool]: NEW - Occupied by Coralhide Snapjaw.
Jeather exhaled, feeling the weight of the new "Tidepool" sector snap into place. But his satisfaction was short-lived. He picked up the broken poaching collar and turned it over.
Etched into the metal was a symbol: A Gear entwined with a DNA helix.
[System Warning: Evolution Resonance Detected.]
[Target "Mutated Rifthound" has identified a 'Calamity Signature' on the artifact.]
Jeather's blood ran cold. The Rifthound's "unstable" mutation wasn't a fluke of nature. It was a signature.
"They didn't just find you," Jeather whispered, looking toward the distant, glowing towers of Saltwind Academy. "They made you."
He looked at the tied-up poachers.
"Saxum," Jeather said, his voice dropping to a dangerous chill. "Bury them up to their necks in the sand. Let the tide ask them the questions."
As he walked away, the ranking obelisk in the distance still glowed with his name: Rank 211. But Jeather wasn't looking at the numbers anymore. He was looking for the Gear and the Helix. And he was going to tear it down.