Michael watched her for a moment longer.
He then lowered his gaze to the flame lion. The great beast lay still, eyes closed, chest rising in slow, steady breaths. But something was different now. The wariness in its posture was gone.
Arianne turned again toward the handlers. "It needs to rest, but I want it strong enough to walk tomorrow."
"Yes, my lady," Captain Varris said, already signaling two of the men.
Arianne stepped aside, giving them room to approach. Then, once they were occupied, she walked over to Michael, her pace unhurried.
Michael studied her quietly for a moment before asking, "Are you tired?"
She gave him a look that was almost amused. "I’m exhausted," she admitted. "Spirit rituals take more than mana. I feel like I ran multiple circles around the estate."
Michael chuckled softly. "Then let’s return to the waiting hall. You should get some rest. Besides..." he offered a light smile, "we can have tea over some light conversation."
Arianne considered it for a moment, then gave a small nod. "That sounds wonderful."
Arianne turned to Captain Varris once more. "Keep it under observation. If it shows signs of agitation, inform me immediately."
She gave one last glance toward the resting flame lion before following Michael across the garden path.
They walked side by side in comfortable silence, the cool breeze tugging gently at their clothes. The midday heat had softened now, giving way to a milder calm.
Back in the waiting hall, the scent of citrus and spice still lingered from the earlier tea.
Arianne rang her bell and had another set of materials to make tea ordered.
A servant refreshed everything wordlessly, setting it down between them before retreating again.
Soon, another tea making process ensued.
Arianne sank into her seat with a muted sigh and sipped from her cup.
Michael, meanwhile, couldn’t help himself.
"I’ve been wondering," he said after a pause. "How many tamed beasts do you actually have?"
"Two," Arianne said, setting her cup down. "The flame lion makes three."
Michael tilted his head, impressed. "That many already?"
Arianne smiled slightly, then clarified, "Normally, it’s not meant to be there at this point."
Michael raised a brow. "Oh?"
"My first tamed creature isn’t a monster," she explained. "It was just a normal animal—barely burdens my spirit at all. A cat I bonded with when I was first starting out. She’s old now so she’s mostly sleeping."
"That’s why cubs or younglings of monsters with powerful bloodlines are so valuable. You bond with them early while they’re still manageable... and as they grow stronger, the bond holds. Even if you end up being weaker than them in the future, it’s only beneficial. The feedback you get from such growth carries you too."
"There’s even a term for tamers who specialize in that kind of strategy," she said. "They’re called Heritage Breeders."
Michael blinked. "Heritage Breeders?"
She nodded. "It’s not official, but among the community, it’s common. Families who dedicate themselves to raising rare or powerful beasts just to tame their offspring."
"Sounds like a mix of beast farming and bloodline cultivation," Michael mused.
"That’s exactly what it is," she replied. "And it works. Some of the greatest tamers in history never fought a beast above their tier. But they raised entire lines of bonded monsters through careful breeding, taming the descendants at just the right time."
Michael tilted his head thoughtfully. "So it’s like a legacy."
Arianne’s smile deepened. "That’s the foundation of every serious beast-taming house. Control the bloodline. And each generation gets stronger."
"Unfortunately," Arianne added, "this path is almost exclusive to beast-taming families."
Michael looked up. "Why? Monopoly?"
She shook her head. "Not entirely. It’s not some guarded secret passed in whispers. The knowledge is there."
She looked up again, meeting his eyes.
"But it’s not a simple thing. Raising beasts takes more than just money. It demands time before you see any return. And most importantly, it requires a bloodline valuable enough to justify spending a lifetime breeding it."
A few minutes passed .
"Well," Arianne said with a stretch of her arms, "I feel rested now."
She turned her gaze toward Michael, eyes gleaming with quiet anticipation. "If you’re still interested in trying your hand at taming a beast, we could head to my father’s zoo. I already requested permission."
Michael set his cup down. "And you’re sure your father won’t truly mind?"
She waved a hand casually. "He won’t."
Arianne rose to her feet, smoothing the front of her gown with practiced grace. "Come," she started. "It’s not far. Just behind the inner courtyard. Father has a small private enclosure meant for small harmless beasts. The real beasts are in the deeper holdings, but for a beginner like you..."
Michael arched a brow, amused. "Beginner?"
Her lips curled. "Sure, sure. I know you’re strong."
Michael and Arianne exited the waiting hall together, guards trailing discreetly behind. The path to the zoo wound past hedges trimmed into sharp spirals, marble statues, and a small koi pond rippling with enchanted water.
The moment they stepped through the runed iron gate of the Evermoon zoo, Michael felt the atmosphere shift.
The garden-like tranquility was still present.
"Magic barriers?" He noticed.
Arianne nodded lightly. "Of course. Every enclosure is warded. Some beasts emit instinctive pressure—just their presence can unsettle weaker minds. This helps suppress that. And, of course, most, importantly, to prevent escapes."
Michael’s eyes flicked around as they entered further. Transparent barriers shimmered faintly, tracing the edges of each beast’s pen. He could sense at least a dozen different lifeforms nearby—some subtle, others pulsing with steady power.
A short, older man in a green robe approached. His eyes lit up as he saw Arianne.
"My lady," he greeted with a quick bow.
Michael returned the man’s nod, his attention already drifting to the surroundings.
Dozens of small enclosures dotted the wide garden, each housing a different creature. Some fluttered or stalked or slept quietly, but Michael’s gaze paused when he noticed a shadowy figure perched on a tall wooden stand not far from him. Strangely, this creature was free to roam around.
It looked like an owl—but not quite.
Its feathers were a shade darker than black, edged in a faint violet sheen that caught the light like oil. Its eyes were silver. Its talons clutched the perch tightly.
Michael narrowed his gaze and activated [Detect].
[Mutated Owl – LV 10]