At the threshold stood Deacon Lu Tao, a ninth-stage Qi Refinery veteran whose face was a map of deep wrinkles and old scars. Beside him, the First and Second Elders paced with the restless energy of men who had bet their entire lives on a single roll of the dice.
Lu Chanwu, the First Elder, stepped forward, his voice booming like a temple bell against the stone walls. "Look at yourselves! For five years, you have been the hidden embers of the Lu Clan. Today, we see if you have the breath to become a wildfire! Remember: the Imperial Beast Taming Law is not a shackle. It is a soul-bridge. A beast must see a reflection of its own primal nature within your spirit. If there is no resonance, there is no power!"
Lu Chanxi, the Second Elder, added with a sharp, calculated glint in his eye, "Do not let greed cloud your judgment. A Tier-1 beast that harmonizes with your soul is a partner for life. A Tier-2 beast that loathes you is a ticking time bomb in your dantian. Choose with your blood, not your vanity!"
With a synchronized roar of "Open!", the two Elders struck the gate's formation. A surge of spiritual light erupted, and the massive, iron-bound doors groaned open, revealing a vibrant, hidden ecosystem where elemental energies swirled like mountain mist.
The Garden was a masterpiece of elemental architecture. There were sun-drenched ponds where Spirit Tortoises drifted like mossy boulders, and jagged, lightless pits where Shadow-Snakes coiled in the dark. High above, in the artificial crags, Storm-Hawks sharpened their talons against the rock, their screeches echoing through the canopy.
The majority of the class, moved by the clan's long history of stability, gravitated toward the ponds. They chose the reliable Spirit Tortoises and Shadow Wolves, seeking the safety of the "Shield" path. True to her nature, Yanxi drifted toward a tranquil grove. A Plant-Attribute Spirit Tortoise, its shell covered in rare, flowering spirit-moss, slowly paddled out of the water. As her hand touched its head, the beast let out a low, vibrating hum of contentment. It was a bond of absolute harmony—the ultimate defensive partner.
Then came Lu Yanshi. She walked past the gentle tortoises without a second glance. Her Metal and Fire attributes were humming, a high-pitched metallic ring in her mind that led her toward the high-security enclosures. She stopped before a Sabertooth Tiger, a Tier-1 predator of pure Metal attribute. Its fangs were like twin curved sabers, and its growl shook the very marrow of the disciples' bones.
As she reached out her hand, the world went cold. The moment her fingers brushed the tiger's fur, the typical blue glow of a contract ceremony vanished. Instead, a vivid, crimson aura exploded from her body, staining the air with the scent of iron and ancient battlefields.
"Ancestors preserve us..." Deacon Tao whispered, his knees buckling. "That... that's the Asura Slaughter Physique!"
The Sabertooth Tiger, a beast known for its unyielding pride, did the unthinkable. It collapsed to its belly, whining in total submission. Under the influence of the crimson light, the tiger's fur began to harden into metallic plates, and its fangs lengthened, glowing with a murderous silver sheen.
Lu Chanxi let out a manic laugh. "A Slaughter Physique! According to the Law, her tiger won't just hit the Foundation Realm—it will mutate into a nightmare that hunts our enemies in their sleep! We have found our Sword!"
The garden had been alive with the cheers for Yanshi's contract. Laughter, applause, and whispers of astonishment filled the air.
But at the far end, the Shadow-Snake Pit seemed to suck the sound out of the world.
A suffocating, unnatural silence spread across the enclosure. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Disciples and elders alike felt their spines stiffen—the kind of silence that precedes a storm or a predator's strike.
Lu Yanhai walked forward, calm yet commanding. Every step seemed deliberate, measured—yet it radiated unsettling authority.
The Abyssal Vipers, normally the embodiment of aggression and malice, froze mid-coil. Their forked tongues flickered nervously; their eyes darted—but none dared strike.
As Yanhai stopped at the edge of the pit, the snakes scrambled in panic, tumbling over each other in a frantic attempt to create distance. The pit echoed with the rustling of hundreds of desperate bodies.
Yanhai didn't speak loudly. He didn't offer treats or project his energy to charm them. He simply looked.
His eyes had changed: bruised purple, swirling with thick, oily miasma.
Even the elders could feel it—the raw, primal aura that seemed to drain courage and bend instinct.
He whispered a single word:
"Come."
The whisper wasn't a request; it was an edict, a command that rippled through every nervous scale in the pit.
A tremor shook the stone floor of the pit. Dust fell from the artificial crags.
From the depths of the Abyssal Vipers' horde, a massive shadow moved—a Twin-Headed Shadow-Python.
Its mutated form suggested it had lain dormant for decades, perhaps since the clan's founding.
The Python didn't test Yanhai. It didn't hiss, strike, or threaten. It recognized its master instinctively.
The python slithered upward, coiling around Yanhai's legs like a living, sinuous throne.
Its two massive heads rested on his shoulders, bone-armored and fearsome, like a cloak of shadows and steel.
The ground trembled slightly as the beast settled, its water-and-shadow attributes rippling through the pit in currents of darkness and fluid motion.
Grand Elder Lu Maxi appeared silently at the gates, as if drawn by the raw aura.
He observed quietly, then whispered in awe:
"An Inverse Selection… The beast didn't choose him. It recognized its master and begged for the privilege of the shackle."
Lu Chanxi and Lu Chanwu felt a chill down their spines.
Yanshi's bond had been Slaughter Physique, a forceful Sword of War.
Yanhai's bond was Primal Beast-Soul Seal, absolute dominion over a beast of water and shadow.
The Abyssal Vipers remained completely submissive, writhing nervously at the edges of the pit.
The Twin-Headed Python's scales began to shift subtly, growing jagged, bone-like protrusions as it adapted to its master's energy.
Yanhai stood at the center, calm yet commanding—a living conduit of primal authority, unmatched even among his prodigious peers.
The disciples around the pit froze, a mix of fear, awe, and disbelief painted on their faces.
Some whispered to each other in hushed, shaky voices:
"That boy… he doesn't tame a beast… he commands it."
Even the elders, seasoned and battle-hardened, could only watch in stunned silence.