The wind whipped past my face as Mystic soared over the Academy's skyline, her massive body gliding smoothly on thick tufts of condensed cloud. From above, the world looked cleaner—less tangled with petty brats and jealous stares.
Final they calm down from earlier incident even though it wasn't right I'm not going to bring it up now but I know we will have to fix maxius temper. I added a mental note to myself.
Lufei stirred in her harness beside me, blinking peacefully. Maxius dozed lightly across my shoulders, his talons gripping the reinforced fabric of my coat with rhythmic steadiness.
I tapped my Oni9x phone, pulling up the Federation-issued digital voucher.
25,000 Federation coins.
Not bad for being labeled a Six-Star freak.
The Materials Department Center appeared ahead—an expansive stone-and-steel complex nestled between the east library wing and the logistics docks. Massive cargo beasts hovered near the entrance, each one loading or unloading crates marked with elemental seals or beast-safe provisions.
Mystic angled lower and spiraled downward like a coiled gust. As we landed gently on the hover-pad, I slid off her back and touched the cloud stairs that evaporated behind me.
"Wait here," I said, patting her flank.
She gave a soft, echoing hum and curled her tail protectively around the pad.
Maxius leapt off my shoulder and flew up to perch on a high metal support beam. Lufei hopped down with a small grunt, trotting at my heels.
The lobby doors slid open with a hiss.
Inside, the Department Center buzzed with activity—rows of enchanted carts whirled along glowing tracks while shopkeepers in charmed uniforms floated inventory tags from shelves to display orbs. I navigated through the aisles like I'd been born to it, scanning options: repair materials, beast food, qi filament kits, and weatherproofing tools.
"Can I help you find something, young master?" a clerk asked politely, clearly trying to place my age or authority.
"Looking for self-healing insulation bands, solar fog nets, and bone-strengthening beast food packs," I said without stopping.
The clerk blinked. "Oh. Right this way."
A few minutes later, I'd loaded a cart with:
• Three crates of mixed beast feed (Maxius prefers dried snake jerky; Lufei prefers sweetroot and quartz-leaf)
• A portable multi-element water filter
• Anti-qi distortion lining fabric (for curtains—if the house even had windows left)
• A minor defensive warding stone, keyed to hostile spiritual fluctuations
• Patch kits for shattered dome infrastructure
• And—because I could—an adjustable temperature mat for Mystic, in case she ever wanted to rest inside
"Federation ID for purchase?" the clerk asked at the counter.
I tapped my ring. Transaction approved.
17,200 coins remaining.
Not bad. Not great.
I loaded the supplies into Mystic's cloud cradle—her tail curled to create a secure hold—and climbed back on her broad back.
"Coordinates loaded," I muttered, showing her the map Ka Sanni had sent me.
With a quiet hum and a low exhale of wind, we took off again—this time heading west, toward the outer edge of the safe zone.
—
The city thinned the farther we flew.
The modernity of floating walkways and teleport gates gave way to older, overgrown roads and scattered homesteads. Beast stables became less common, replaced by watchtowers and domed safe shelters, half-swallowed by forest vines.
Eventually, we passed the boundary tower.
Mystic slowed her flight as we approached a sprawling acre of wild, uneven ground dotted with ash-burnt trees and cracked earth.
And there it was.
My house.
Or… what was left of it.
The three-room dome structure stood half-sunken in the ground, its curved left side caved inward as though something large had body-slammed it. Vines crept along its edges, and a massive gouge ran from the roof down to the front steps.
I floated down on a cloud and dismounted, my boots crunching against the scattered gravel of a broken path.
Lufei bounded ahead, sniffing the air cautiously. Maxius perched on the jagged remains of the entry awning, eyes narrowed like a sentinel.
Mystic hovered in place above the ruin, letting her cloud cradle lower the supplies gently beside what remained of the front porch.
I stepped forward.
The wind fell silent.
Inside, the air smelled of burnt ozone and old earth qi—faint traces of the magical beast that had damaged this place. Ka Sanni said it had wandered in from a rupture gate. A rogue classification beast. Federation patrols had driven it back, but the damage had already been done.
This place had been declared unsafe for habitation.
Until she bought it for me.
I dropped my bag inside the largest room—likely the old living chamber. The ceiling still held. One side of the glass wall was cracked but not shattered. I ran my hand along the stone framework.
Scorched.
But not hopeless.
"Maxius," I said. "Perimeter sweep."
He launched silently into the sky.
"Lufei, check the soil around the back. Look for any soulroot growth or poison weeds."
She nodded, already bounding off.
I turned to Mystic.
"Can you lower cloud mist into the cracks? Stabilize the pressure in the rear chamber?"
She let out a soft hum and lowered her tail, tendrils of cloud flowing down into the fractured rear dome.
I stood there alone for a moment, arms crossed, taking it all in.
This wasn't a handout.
It wasn't a gift.
It was a battlefield.
And it was mine.
I grabbed a pry tool from one of the crates and got to work pulling loose stones off the ruined side wall. One by one. My hands burned with the effort, but I kept moving.
Maxius returned an hour later.
"No threats in the radius," he said, voice flat. "Minimal spiritual activity. A few mouse-class beasts in the nearby treeline."
"Good," I muttered. "That's manageable."
Lufei trotted up with a mouthful of root samples. She dropped them near me, and I crouched to examine the spiraling green stems.
"Viable for cultivation," I murmured. "1 star Spirit moss still growing under the outer layer. This land isn't dead."
"We can sell it too—for extra income, food money, or training gear expenses," I told them, arms crossed as I scanned the overgrown patch of hardy glow-berry bushes taking over the back slope of our acre. "But if you want something for yourselves, you'll have to help clear the field. However much you pick is money toward you and you only."
That got their attention.
Lufei's ears perked. Maxius tilted his head, eyes gleaming with interest. Even Mystic rumbled gently above, her golden mist curling like a question mark.
Maxius was the first to speak. "So… are we talking actual money? Or do we get one of those scan tags I've seen humans use?"
I blinked.
The question hit me sideways. He'd noticed that? I stared at him, surprised—not because he was stupid, but because I'd forgotten. I had assumed, in some tucked-away, lazy part of my brain, that they didn't care for human economics.
I cursed my own ignorance. This isn't Earth, Yumei. They're not just beasts—they're my team. My partners.
I turned away for a second, muttering to myself as I activated my Oni9x interface and synced it with the local Netsphere feed. "Alright, let's see… beast payment tags…"
Search: "Soul beasts buying stuff?"
The results were… unexpectedly wild.
⸻
[Netsphere Post 1 – ✦ Forum: BeastBonded Life ✦]
Title: "HELP. My Beast Bought a Hover Cart Full of Beef Hearts."
User: ScreamingVet987
"Do NOT give your soul beast free access to untagged shops. I went in for a med patch and came out with my Class III razor-horned bison swiping 3,000 coins worth of raw meat and auto-lotion dispensers. He moos at me like I'm the problem. Do I report him or let him work part-time?"
⸻
[Netsphere Post 2 – ✦ Forum: Beasts Behaving Badly ✦]
Title: "My Winged Pig Made Me Bankrupt"
User: DebtByFlight
"So yeah. My beast is a Mini-Wind Pig named Snortles. Somehow he figured out the purchase tag I left in my glove. Bought 42 crates of high-grade feed and a sky hammock. I got the debt alert WHILE IN THE BATH. Do not let your beasts 'window shop'—they have no self-control."
⸻
[Netsphere Post 3 – ✦ Forum: Federation Beastmaster Law ✦]
Title: "Should Soul Beasts Have Spending Limits?"
User: SocioPhilosophy314
"Serious question: if beasts are sentient and bonded, why don't we legislate spending limits like we do with minor humans? We treat high-intelligence beasts like tools but let them sign off on 900-coin spa packages?"
⸻
[Netsphere Post 4 – ✦ Forum: Practical Bonding ✦]
Title: "YES, They Can Pay—With a Tag"
User: Verified Federation Vendor
"There IS a program. Class B or higher IQ-rated beasts can be issued a 'Limited-Permission Beast Tag' if their Master registers them at a Federation Branch. It links purchases to your ring ID but allows independent small buys. Default limit: 200 coins/day unless changed manually."
⸻
I blinked again, slightly horrified and mildly fascinated.
"Well," I said slowly, still staring at the screen. "Turns out there's an actual beast purchasing system. You can get a tag. But some people—apparently—have gone bankrupt because their soul beasts bought sky hammocks and high-grade meat without a budget."
Lufei sniffed. "A lack of discipline is the fault of the trainer."
Maxius smirked. "I'll take the tag. With a 300-coin limit. That should cover a good starter wind-glider and tactical snacks."
I spun toward him. "You are not getting a glider until you stop dive-bombing squirrels."
"I call it precision practice."
"You flattened our neighbor's scarecrow."
He tilted his head innocently. "It was an unauthorized sentinel."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'll figure it out. No promises. I'll ask the registration center if they allow it for bonded mythical-class and dual-class Beastmasters."
He hummed. "That's a yes."
"It's a maybe."
Lufei stepped forward. "Where do we begin?"
I pointed at the berry bushes, hands on my hips. "Clear the east patch, sort anything ripe, and we'll tally it. I'll sell it through the local market app. You get whatever percentage you picked."
Mystic let out a slow, amused exhale, her mist curling into something that looked suspiciously like a coin symbol.
I muttered to myself as I activated the price-check function on Oni9x. "Beast budgeting. What could possibly go wrong?"
Then I looked at my hands.
Dirtied. Bruised. Real.
I looked up at the half-crushed ceiling of my new home.
And smiled. A place to call my own officially.
Our new home and slice of paradise in the making
This will do.