Silence pressed down on the arena like a held breath.
Lin Yue was still crouched by the enclosure, his fingers resting lightly against the creature's forehead, when he finally realized everyone had stopped laughing.
The warmth on his wrist pulsed once—soft, uncertain—before fading into a thin, pale mark. It wasn't bright like a standard Beast Contract, nor did it radiate oppressive authority. It looked… fragile. Incomplete.
Wrong.
The elders were the first to react.
"That's impossible," one of them muttered, rising from his seat. His long beard trembled as spiritual sense flared from his body. "There was no blood oath."
"No domination sigil," another said sharply. "No binding chant."
A third elder narrowed her eyes at Lin Yue. "Boy. Step away from the beast."
Lin Yue's heart skipped.
This is bad, his mind screamed. This is very bad.
He had known—he had known—that doing something different would attract trouble. He had just hoped it would be the quiet kind. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and stood up, positioning himself instinctively between the elders and the small creature.
The beast let out a faint sound—more breath than voice—and pressed closer to his leg.
That tiny movement hit Lin Yue harder than any shout.
"It's afraid," he blurted out before he could stop himself.
The arena erupted again, but this time not with laughter.
"With that thing?" someone scoffed.
"It should be afraid of him."
"Throw them both out!"
The elder who had called Lin Yue's name earlier strode forward, robes snapping in the air. "This ceremony exists to ensure order. Contracts exist to ensure control. What you've formed is neither."
Lin Yue swallowed. His palms were slick with sweat. "I didn't break any rules," he said quietly. "You said… choose a beast. You didn't say how."
The elder paused.
Annoyance flickered across his face—not because Lin Yue was wrong, but because he wasn't clearly wrong enough.
Before the elder could respond, a sudden ripple spread through the arena.
The beast moved.
Slowly, painfully, it lifted its head and opened its remaining eye fully. A faint shimmer passed over its dull fur—so subtle that most people missed it.
But Lin Yue felt it.
A sharp, instinctive tug in his chest.
Danger.
He staggered back a step, breath catching. Images flooded his mind—not visions, not memories, but sensations. Cold stone. Hunger. Being kicked aside. Waiting to die.
His legs nearly gave out.
"What was that?" he whispered.
The beast's breathing steadied slightly, as if releasing a long-held tension.
A whisper rippled through the crowd.
"Did it just…"
"No way."
"Was that resonance?"
The elders exchanged looks—uneasy ones.
One of them raised his hand, and a wave of spiritual pressure rolled outward. "Enough. This beast is unfit. The contract—whatever it is—will be dissolved."
Lin Yue's blood ran cold.
"Wait—!"
The pressure slammed toward the enclosure.
Instinct took over.
Lin Yue didn't think. He moved.
He stepped forward, arms outstretched, placing himself directly in front of the beast.
The pressure struck him full-on.
Pain exploded across his chest. His vision blurred, knees buckling as he tasted blood. Somewhere behind him, the beast shrieked—a thin, broken sound filled with raw terror.
And then—
The pressure stopped.
The elder's hand trembled.
"What…?" he murmured.
Lin Yue gasped for air, barely staying upright. The mark on his wrist burned—not hot, but sharp, like ice digging into bone. At the same time, the pain in his chest dulled unnaturally, as if something else had absorbed part of it.
He realized, distantly, that the beast had gone silent.
When he glanced back, his breath caught.
The creature was glowing faintly—not with power, but with a soft, translucent sheen that wrapped around both of them like a thin veil. Cracks along its twisted leg seemed… less severe. Not healed. But stabilized.
The elders' expressions changed completely.
"That's not evolution," the woman elder said slowly. "It's too soon."
"It's not enhancement either," another replied. "It's… adaptation."
Lin Yue didn't understand their words. All he knew was that his heart was racing, and the beast—his beast—was still alive.
The lead elder exhaled sharply. "This ceremony is concluded for you."
Two guards stepped forward.
Lin Yue stiffened. "You're expelling me?"
"No," the elder said coldly. "You are being classified."
That single word sent a chill down Lin Yue's spine.
"From this moment on," the elder continued, "you are forbidden from entering formal beast arenas, academies, or public competitions until your contract is verified."
Murmurs exploded.
"That's basically exile!"
"He'll never grow!"
"Serves him right."
Lin Yue bowed deeply, relief and dread twisting together in his chest. "Thank you… for your mercy."
The elder snorted. "Do not mistake caution for mercy. If that thing becomes unstable, we will eliminate it—and you."
The guards stepped aside.
Lin Yue didn't hesitate.
He bent down, carefully lifting the small beast into his arms. It was lighter than he expected. Fragile. Too fragile for this world.
As he turned away from the arena, whispers followed him like shadows.
Coward.
Fool.
Dead man walking.
He ignored them all.
Because as he stepped out into the sunlight beyond the pillars, he felt it again—that quiet, steady connection between his heart and the creature in his arms.
Fear still coiled inside him.
But now, for the first time…
He wasn't afraid alone.
And somewhere, unseen and unrecorded, the first threshold of a forgotten evolution had been crossed—not through violence, but through survival.
Quietly.
Dangerously.
Together.