When the light shifted, Aion found himself once more before the ruined gate. Its broken arch loomed against the dawn, silent and forgotten. For a moment, he wondered if all he had experienced had been no more than a dream. Yet the lingering pulse silver tattoo on right hand told another story—real, undeniable, and world-shattering.
Carefully, he etched the coordinates into his memory and recorded them upon his device. Only then did he step away. As the first rays of morning broke across the horizon, he paused. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon him, yet a faint smile touched his lips as he gazed into the golden light of a new day.
Drawing his cloak close, Aion made his way toward the city. He avoided the path where the serpent had once barred his way, each step cautious and measured. When at last the outskirts came into view, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The guards, after their routine inspection, allowed him through without question.
Back in the solitude of his modest room—the place he had called home since leaving the orphanage—Aion let weariness claim him. Body and spirit both drained, he fell into slumber, his dreams as restless and strange as ever.
By the time he awoke, the sun had already dipped low, painting the city in hues of fading amber. After a simple meal, he turned to meditation, seeking calm. What he found instead left him startled—energy surged into him with a speed and fullness he had never known. The flow was smooth, vibrant, alive. His talent had shifted, blossoming into Origin Bloom, and he could feel the difference with every breath he drew.
When at last he opened his eyes, clarity filled him. Refreshed, he moved to the window, where the moon shone in gentle brilliance across the darkened sky. A quiet stillness wrapped the world, soothing and serene.
On impulse, Aion summoned Hazel. The small beast appeared with a soft gleam, eyes bright as it leapt into his arms. A day's absence had been enough to stir longing, and Hazel's affection was plain.
He cast his Origin Insight on Hazel, and glowing lines of knowledge unfolded before his eyes.
Hazel – Harespring
A gentle, deer-like spirit beast known for its remarkable healing gift.
Level: 29 (Rank 2 Peak)
Potential: Rank 3 (Elite)
Type: Healing
Skills
1. Dewdrop Mending(C rank) (Advanced Mastery) – Heals fractures and stabilizes blood flow with remarkable swiftness.
2. Aegis Shield (B rank) (Proficient) – Conjures a luminous shield capable of blocking attacks and resisting certain poisons.
3. Spring Grace (B rank) (Advanced) – Accelerates recovery while sustaining allies' stamina and uplifting their spirits.
4. Antler Strike(D rank) (Proficient) – Charges forward with glowing antlers, releasing a stunning impact.
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Evolution Pathways
1. Moonveil Harespring – Rank 5 Potential
Condition: Beast at Rank 3 Peak + 10 Moonveil Flower Petals + 50ml Moon Spring Bloom + Ritual Bath beneath the Full Moon for 3 hours. (Beast must be a master of healing.)
2. Moon Lunaris Stag – Rank 7 King Potential
Condition: ????
3. Lunar Moon Eclipse Springhare – Rank 8 Potential (Overload)
Condition: ????
4. ????
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These were the possible evolutions path of pet Hazel's available in the world host resides currently. It may have some hidden evolution which could be analysed within the shop or during evolution of it get trigger the chances are miniscule but being the holder of origin you can help the beast reach that step .
The voice stirred, deep and resonant, answering him
To uncover the hidden evolutions, one must look deeper, with patience and care. Such understanding rests quietly within the shop's design, awaiting the touch of your guidance to open the path that leads nearer to the Origin.
A spirit beast bound to you is never truly apart—it feels the rhythm of your breath, the weight of your steps, the rise of your strength. As your own talent grows free from its chains, the pure flow of Origin within you will gently return to your companions. This feedback will nourish them, steady their growth, and, in time, awaken the greatness hidden within their blood.
But to help those beyond your bond—other beasts who are not tied to you—requires far more. The cost is heavier, and the burden deeper, for only after a beast evolves does its true quality, its real nature, reveal itself.
The words sank into Aion's mind like molten steel. His gaze lingered on Hazel, affection mixing with awe. Evolution was no mere step forward—it was a path that demanded patience, foresight, and sacrifice. One misstep could alter destiny forever.
And yet, within him, a fire stirred.
Hazel was not just a beast. Hazel was family. And he would see it grow—not merely along the path laid out, but into something greater, something born of the Origin itself.
Aion could scarcely believe what lay before him. The Origin Pet Shop was no ordinary sanctuary of beasts and herbs—it was a treasury of truths hidden from the world, a place where veils of secrecy were gently lifted. Pathways of evolution shimmered in the air like constellations drawn by unseen hands, each line pulsing with an ancient resonance.
In the Federation's records, the Moonveil Harespring had only one acknowledged path of advancement. Yet here, not one, but countless routes unfurled before his eyes, some leading to evolutions so rare they were whispered of only as myth. Much, however, remained locked—sealed away by the weight of his own limitations. In the outside world, such knowledge would demand ruinous prices, bartered from secretive breeders of the highest rank. But within this sanctum, the mysteries lay bare, crystalline and unclouded, as though the cosmos itself had set them in order for him to see.
If he were to reveal even a fraction of this wisdom, his name would spread like wildfire—whispered in guild halls, etched into the annals of academies, heralded as a prodigy. Yet Aion dismissed the thought as quickly as it arose. Such dreams were dangerous. The Origin Pet Shop could never be exposed, not to friend nor foe. Its secret was his burden, and his alone.
He steadied his breath. No—plan for the future.
Drawing his mind back into the shop's glow, Aion's gaze roamed across the shelves and counters. A troubling question stirred within him: How would others even reach this place? Who could stumble into a shop hidden within another plane?
As if answering his unspoken doubt, words of light etched themselves into the air:
> "To welcome customers, advance the shop to Level 1."
The cost glimmered in his thoughts—one thousand Origin Points. A daunting sum, but no mountain was unclimbable.
Resolving to test the shop's functions, he retrieved a stalk of Lunaris Herb, a Rank 2 spirit plant, and placed it upon the counter's glowing array. Instantly, knowledge cascaded forth:
> Lunaris Herb — a Rank 2 spirit herb that blooms only beneath the veil of moonlight, its leaves faintly aglow as they drink from threads of lunar essence. Its fragrance is gentle, able to soothe restless hearts and ease beasts in turmoil. In the Federation, it is recorded as a common aid—sufficient to mend wounds, steady spirit flow, and nurture Soldier-tier beasts, or at most, those of the early Elite stage. Beyond that, its gentle strength wanes, unable to serve the higher realms.
But within the shop, another layer of truth unfurled.
When cultivated in soil enriched with powdered sandalwood, its fragrance deepened into a serene balm, its healing sharpened, its spirit-calming nature more profound, and the faint chance of advancing into a Rank 3 herb began to stir.
More wondrous still, when its extract was blended with Moondew, a Rank 2 elixir, in the precise measure of three parts to five, the result was a radiant draught, gleaming like moonlight captured in glass. This elixir did not merely mend—it opened the way for spirit beasts to comprehend Dewdrop Mending, a C-rank healing art, and hastened their mastery of it, as though the moon itself guided their touch.
Then the display shifted once more, its light carrying the weight of revelation:
> "Low-grade resource detected. Conversion available: 20 Origin Points.
Note: herb grade carries mutation chance. Host may spend Origin Points."
Aion's eyes lingered on the inscription. Mutation. The word alone carried both allure and unease. No record had ever spoken of such a possibility. And yet here it was, unveiled as casually as an option in trade. With Origin Points, the Lunaris Herb might not only evolve, but mutate—its very essence reshaped, its rank elevated, its powers multiplied.
But it was no certainty. It bore the scent of chance, the whisper of risk. It was a gamble draped in brilliance—profit beyond imagination, or loss that could turn gain into ash. Calmly, Aion pressed the fire in his heart into silence. This was not the time for reckless leaps. He would test, measure, and prove the truth of this promise. Only then would he decide whether to grasp fortune—or walk away.
Just then, a voice as soft as the turning of pages brushed against his thoughts:
> "Mission completed. Reward: 50 Origin Points."
Aion's gaze shifted to the shop's ledger, where the faint glow of new points shimmered into being. A subtle smile touched his lips. This was but the first step, a single stone laid upon the road.
His journey had only just begun.