The square was already full when Lin Yue arrived.
Stone pillars carved with ancient beast runes rose toward the sky, forming a massive circular arena at the heart of Greenstone City. Every year, this place decided the futures of hundreds. Today was no different. The Beast Selection Ceremony had begun, and excitement buzzed in the air like static before a storm.
Lin Yue kept his head down as he slipped into the crowd.
Shouts of laughter, boastful claims, and nervous whispers surrounded him. Young men and women stood tall, chests puffed out, their eyes fixed on the center of the arena where dozens of beast eggs and cubs were displayed behind a transparent barrier of spiritual light.
Dragons curled within crimson eggs. Thunder wolves paced restlessly, lightning flickering through their fur. Even a rare shadow panther lounged lazily, its golden eyes filled with disdain.
Each beast radiated power.
Each one represented a future carved in blood and glory.
Lin Yue swallowed.
His hands were cold. His heartbeat was too loud in his ears. He had tried to prepare himself for this day, but standing here made every ugly memory resurface—screams, shattered contracts, beasts turning on their masters in fits of madness.
People called it rare.
He called it death.
"Next," an elder's voice boomed, amplified by spiritual energy.
A boy strode forward confidently, his Beast Mark glowing bright blue on his wrist. The moment he reached out, a silver-maned wolf leapt toward him, howling in recognition. Cheers erupted.
"Top-tier compatibility!"
"Another genius!"
Lin Yue flinched at the noise and shrank further into himself.
He didn't want a top-tier beast.
He didn't want attention.
All he wanted… was to survive.
"Lin Yue," the elder called.
The name echoed across the arena.
For a moment, Lin Yue considered pretending he hadn't heard it.
But the silence grew heavy, and dozens of eyes turned toward him. He forced his feet to move. Each step toward the barrier felt like walking toward an execution platform.
As he approached, the beasts reacted.
Some growled. Some sneered. A few simply ignored him.
No resonance.
No calling.
That should have been a relief—but his stomach twisted instead.
The elder frowned. "Hurry up. Choose."
Lin Yue nodded quickly. He scanned the rows of dazzling beasts, his gaze sliding past them without stopping. Powerful beasts meant powerful enemies. Powerful beasts meant expectations. Powerful beasts meant dying young.
Then, at the very edge of the arena, something caught his eye.
A small enclosure, half-hidden behind a cracked pillar.
No barrier of light. No spectators.
Inside lay a creature so unimpressive that Lin Yue almost thought it was dead.
It was small, barely the size of a cat, its body thin and uneven as if it had grown incorrectly. One of its legs was twisted at an unnatural angle. Its chest rose and fell weakly, each breath a struggle.
A faint, dull-colored egg fragment lay beside it—cracked long ago.
A failed hatchling.
Lin Yue felt a chill.
That thing won't last a month, someone near him whispered.
Why is it even here?
His instincts screamed at him to walk away.
Weak beasts died easily. Weak beasts dragged their tamers down with them.
But as Lin Yue turned, the creature's eye—just one, the other clouded and blind—slowly opened.
Their gazes met.
There was no hunger in that eye.
No aggression.
Only exhaustion… and something else.
Fear.
Lin Yue's steps faltered.
He knew that fear.
He had lived with it all his life.
Without realizing it, he found himself walking toward the corner.
Laughter rippled through the arena.
"Is he serious?"
"That thing's barely alive!"
"Even garbage has standards!"
The elder's brows furrowed. "Boy, choose properly."
Lin Yue stopped in front of the enclosure and crouched down. Up close, the creature looked even worse. Its body trembled faintly, as if expecting pain.
He hesitated.
Contracts flashed through his mind—blood sigils, domination marks, chains of will.
His hand shook.
If I bind it… it'll suffer.
Slowly, he withdrew his hand.
A ripple of mockery passed through the crowd.
"He's scared to even contract it!"
"Typical coward."
But Lin Yue wasn't looking at them.
He met the creature's eye again and spoke quietly, so softly that only it could hear.
"I won't force you."
The creature stilled.
"I don't want a slave," Lin Yue continued, his voice barely steady. "And I don't want to die chasing power. If you stay with me… we survive together. If you don't… I'll walk away."
No oath.
No command.
Just a promise.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then, painfully slowly, the creature shifted. It dragged its twisted body forward, inch by inch, until its forehead touched Lin Yue's fingers.
A faint warmth spread through his hand.
Not energy.
Emotion.
The air shuddered.
Somewhere deep beneath the arena, something ancient stirred.
A symbol bloomed on Lin Yue's wrist—not a domination mark, but a thin, interlocking pattern unlike anything recorded. The elders stiffened.
"What kind of contract is that?" someone gasped.
Lin Yue felt it too.
Fear. Weakness. Resolve.
Two fragile lives, bound not by chains—but by choice.
And far beyond mortal sight, a forgotten path creaked open for the first time in countless years.
Unnoticed.
Uncelebrated.
But alive.