The ranking board shimmered above the central plaza of Saltwind Tidal Academy, waves of blue light cascading across ten thousand engraved names.
Jeather Viremont—displayed publicly as Jeather Vale—stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the glowing number beside his name.
Rank 643.
Not at the bottom anymore.
Not even close.
But nowhere near the top.
Students passed by, whispering.
"Isn't that the new guy who jumped from the nine-thousands?"
"Yeah. The one who fought Professor Halvyr."
"643 in less than a month… monster."
Jeather scratched his cheek lazily.
"Monster, huh?" he muttered. "You should see my rent."
Rank 643 meant something very specific inside Saltwind Tidal Academy.
It meant:
He was now officially eligible to issue challenges to the Top 500.
He had access to restricted training grounds.
He was under the radar of factions.
And it also meant—
He had painted a giant target on his back.
A notification flickered faintly in his peripheral vision.
[System Update]
Mission: Reach Rank 1 at Saltwind Tidal Academy.
Current Progress: 643 / 10,000.
Reward: One Free Evolutionary Path (choose any beast under contract).
Jeather clicked his tongue.
"Yeah, yeah. I see it."
Rank 643 out of 10,000 students.
It didn't look impressive at first glance.
But anyone who understood the academy knew—
The climb from 1,000 to 500 was harder than from 10,000 to 1,000 combined.
The air up here was thinner.
Sharper.
Political.
And far more dangerous.
Jeather closed his eyes and slipped into the Beast Realm.
Mist rolled over stone terraces. Silver water veins flowed between jagged rock formations.
Mana drifted like suspended stars.
Astrael hovered in silent, radiant dominance.
Velkaria leaned against a pillar of frozen current, arms folded.
The Basilisk coiled lazily around a broken ruin.
The Mutated Rifthound paced in unstable flickers of fractured space.
The Chimera lay stretched across a cliff edge like an apex emperor.
The Ice Abyss Weaver remained suspended in her frost-thread cocoon.
The Otter was upside down in a floating bubble, chewing something it definitely shouldn't be chewing.
And then—
A small rock the size of a boulder cracked.
"JEEEETTTT!"
The rock exploded.
Saxum burst out of it in Earth Form — small, chunky stone body, glowing eyes, stubby arms raised like a warlord toddler.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! WHO WE SMASH TODAY?!"
Jeather blinked.
"…Good morning to you too."
Saxum immediately shifted.
Stone cracked and turned molten.
Lava Form ignited.
His tiny body glowed red-orange, magma veins pulsing.
"I BURN NOW?!"
"No," Jeather said flatly.
Saxum switched again—
Ice Form.
Now he was a small jagged snow-golem with icy spikes.
"FREEZE?!"
"No."
Metal Form.
CLANG.
Now he was silver, dense, sharp-edged, like an angry forged statue.
"CRUSH?!"
Jeather rubbed his temples..
"We are researching ranking mechanics."
Saxum froze mid-pose.
"…No smash?"
"No smash."
Saxum's metal shoulders drooped.
The Otter burst into cackling laughter.
"Jett came to talk, not war!"
"BORING," Saxum declared.
He stomped the ground.
Small shockwave.
The Rifthound snarled irritably.
"Control your child."
"He is not my child," Jeather snapped.
"Jett summon. Jett dad," Saxum replied immediately.
Velkaria covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Astrael's aura pulsed faintly — amusement.
Jeather pointed at Saxum.
"I did not sign adoption papers."
"YOU NAMED ME."
"…That's not how legal systems work."
Saxum suddenly leapt into Lava Form and launched himself at the Rifthound.
"SPAR NOW!"
The Rifthound blinked sideways, space distorting.
Saxum slammed into the ground and rolled twice.
He popped up immediately.
"AGAIN!"
The Basilisk hissed low.
The Chimera opened one eye.
The Ice Abyss Weaver paused her thread-weaving.
Jeather sighed.
"Fine. Controlled spar. No lethal force."
Saxum switched to Earth Form.
"YAAAAAA!"
He charged the Rifthound again.
The Rifthound phased partially, letting Saxum pass through a warped fragment of space.
Saxum hit nothing.
Spun.
Switched to Metal Form mid-spin.
Swung a tiny metallic fist.
CLANG.
Actually connected.
The Rifthound slid back slightly.
The Beast Realm trembled.
Saxum's eyes lit up.
"I HIT! I HIT! JETT SEE?!"
"I saw," Jeather admitted.
Saxum puffed up proudly.
"STRONG."
"You're Bronze," Jeather said.
"STRONG BRONZE."
"…Fair."
Saxum then turned toward Astrael.
"YOU. BIG SHINY. FIGHT."
Astrael lowered slowly, golden aura calm but overwhelming.
"Not today, little forge."
Saxum switched to Ice Form and launched anyway.
Astrael casually expanded his aura.
Saxum froze mid-air.
Then dropped like a pebble.
THUD.
He sat up immediately.
"AGAIN."
"No," Jeather said.
Saxum turned to Jeather.
"JETT FIGHT ME."
"…Absolutely not."
"WHY."
"Because you're made of rocks and I'm made of bones."
Saxum considered this.
"…Bones break."
Jeather stared at him.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Yes."
Velkaria finally laughed openly.
The Otter floated closer.
"Jett scared!"
"I am not scared."
Saxum walked up to him in Metal Form.
Poked his leg.
"Soft."
Jeather smacked his own forehead.
"I conquer mutated beasts, fight silver-tier monsters, climb to Rank 643—"
Saxum gasped dramatically.
"JETT 643?!"
"Yes."
"LOW."
The entire Beast Realm went quiet.
Even Astrael's aura flickered.
Jeather slowly turned toward Saxum.
"…Excuse me?"
"643 not 1."
"…You're not wrong."
Saxum nodded seriously.
"Then smash higher."
That was it.
No philosophy.
No depth.
Just simple toddler battle logic.
Jeather laughed.
"Alright. We smash higher."
Saxum's eyes glowed bright magma-orange.
"JETT SMASH!"
He jumped and headbutted Jeather's chest.
It hurt.
A lot.
Jeather coughed.
"Why are you actually solid here—?!"
"STRONG BRONZE," Saxum repeated proudly.
The Rifthound snorted.
The Otter clapped.
Velkaria shook her head.
Astrael's aura warmed slightly.
And Jeather realized something.
They weren't just weapons.
They were personalities.
A burning demon.
A cold sovereign.
A coiled tyrant.
A fractured predator.
A chaotic otter.
A silent frost weaver.
A regal chimera.
And a battle-obsessed rock toddler.
He wasn't climbing alone.
He smirked.
"Alright. Next ranking challenge soon."
Saxum raised both tiny arms.
"SMASH TEACHER!"
"…We'll see."
"SMASH RANK 1!"
"Definitely."
"SMASH OCEAN!"
"Let's not start a war with geography."
Saxum paused.
"…Later?"
Jeather grinned.
"…Maybe later."
He sat on a rocky pier.
Cast line.
Waited.
Five minutes.
Nothing.
Inside the Beast Realm:
Otter: "You're holding it wrong."
Jeather: "It's a stick with string."
Otter: "Technique matters."
Rifthound: "Throw yourself in. Faster."
Velkaria: "This is inefficient."
Jeather sighed.
"Fine. Advice?"
The Otter popped into partial manifestation beside him, tiny and smug.
"Jig it."
He jiggled the rod dramatically.
A fisherman nearby stared.
"Are you summoning something?"
"Maybe."
Suddenly—
The rod bent violently.
"OH."
He pulled.
Something erupted from the water.
Not a fish.
A minor Tide Snapper beast—teeth like broken shells.
It snapped midair.
Jeather blinked.
"Well. That escalated."
He sealed it effortlessly.
The fisherman gaped.
"…You're not normal."
Jeather shrugged.
"Rank 643."
The fisherman nodded slowly.
"That explains nothing."
Returning to the academy, Jeather checked the ranking terminal again.
But something new blinked beneath it.
[Mid-Tier Evaluation Unlock Available]
He tapped it.
Information flooded in.
Saltwind Tidal Academy didn't simply operate on duel wins.
The ranking system measured:
Combat victories
Beast diversity
Tactical adaptability
Resource control
Faction influence
Jeather frowned.
"Faction influence?"
A hidden mechanic.
Students inside Top 500 often gained points through political alliances.
That meant—
Climbing further wasn't just about strength.
It was about positioning.
The Basilisk's voice echoed faintly from the realm.
"So the battlefield widens."
Jeather smirked.
"Good."
He preferred complex hunts.
That night, he entered the Beast Research Wing.
Rank 643 granted mid-tier archive access.
Scrolls and crystalline data tablets floated in water columns.
He specifically searched:
Evolution branches for Rifthound-type beasts
Ice-attribute arachnid mutations
Chimera bloodline stabilization
He pulled up data on the Mutated Rifthound.
Several possible paths appeared:
Voidfang Predator
Rift Devourer
Abyssal Phase Stalker
Dimensional Warhound
Each required:
Specific environmental catalysts
Rare beast cores
Survival under extreme stress
Jeather leaned back.
"You want to evolve?"
The Rifthound appeared beside him in spirit form.
"I want to tear open the sky."
"Subtle."
Astrael floated closer.
"Evolution changes essence. Consider carefully."
Velkaria crossed her arms.
"Power without control invites collapse."
The Otter waved.
"Can I evolve into something cool?"
"You're already cool."
"I want lasers."
"No lasers."
The Otter pouted.
Jeather stared at the Rifthound data again.
He could wait for the System reward.
Or he could force evolution manually.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Not yet."
The Rifthound growled softly.
"I will be ready."
"I know."
News spread quickly.
Rank 643.
Independent.
No faction.
Top 10 factions noticed.
Rumors surfaced:
"He refused recruitment."
"He hunts outside academy walls."
"He sells beasts but keeps rare ones."
"He uses strange combinations."
Some mid-tier faction leaders began sending feelers.
A sealed letter appeared in his dorm room that night.
Wax emblem: a trident wrapped in chains.
Invitation to dinner.
Jeather stared at it.
Then tossed it aside.
"Not hungry for politics yet."
Inside the Beast Realm—
Chimera middle head: "Politics are inevitable."
Left head: "Burn it."
Right head: "Attend for free food."
Otter: "FREE FOOD?"
Jeather laughed.
"We'll see."
He stood on the academy rooftop that night.
Wind strong.
Salt in the air.
Rank 643.
Ten thousand students.
Top 10 factions circling.
System mission looming.
Rifthound awaiting evolution.
Ice Abyss Weaver silent but growing.
Chimera stabilizing.
Astrael observing.
Velkaria calculating.
Basilisk watching.
Saxum enduring.
Otter complaining.
He clenched his fist lightly.
"Rank 1."
Not for fame.
Not for recognition.
But for control.
For information.
For access to beasts no one else could reach.
He smiled faintly.
"Let's make things interesting."