The cave had grown oddly quiet. Chase could still feel the lingering warmth of the massive beast's presence, as if the walls themselves remembered its breath. The shattered egg at his feet still steamed faintly. And in the middle of the scattered shell fragments, the tiny black creature blinked its emerald eyes and rubbed its face against his hand again.
"…Uh," Chase muttered, frozen in place.
The creature cooed softly, a strange, soothing sound that felt like wind brushing through a hollow flute. It flapped its tiny wings once, then curled into a spiral atop the shattered remains of its egg—still resting against Chase's palm.
It wasn't fear. The creature didn't look threatened at all. In fact, it gazed at him like he was the most important thing in the world.
"…You're… not going to bite me?" he asked.
The little thing tilted its head, then crawled up his arm without hesitation. Chase's muscles tensed, but the creature simply nestled into the crook of his neck, letting out another melodic hum.
Suddenly, something flared in his chest.
A pulse of heat. Then cold. Then… something else. A twisting sensation between his heart and his dantian, like threads weaving together inside his very soul.
His knees gave out. He dropped to one leg, clutching his chest.
"What the hell?!"
The creature raised its head slightly, eyes glowing. Its tiny horn shimmered for the first time. And then—
"Mine."
A whisper, not spoken aloud, echoed inside Chase's skull. A wordless idea. A feeling. A voice—young, pure, but ancient at the same time.
"What… was that?" Chase whispered, panting.
He didn't get long to think about it. The pulse spread out again, this time wrapping around his entire body like soft chains of energy.
He could feel it now. Something foreign—and yet familiar—linking to him.
A bond.
A spirit contract.
Somehow, without ceremony or guidance, the beast had chosen him. And not only that… it had initiated the bond.
Mason, still hovering unseen far above, choked on the mouthful of dried berries he'd been munching on.
"What the absolute hell?!" he coughed. "It bonded with him?! Just like that?! No ritual? No spell circle? No sacred oath? Just… lick, snuggle, contract complete?!"
He scratched his head with both hands, floating in annoyed circles. "This brat. This damn brat! How is this possible?!"
Back in the cave, the contract slowly settled.
Chase stood again. His eyes had shifted subtly—a gleam of silver flickered behind the usual lifeless grey. The beast was still resting on his shoulder, now purring softly.
"…Alright," Chase finally said, brushing his hair back and sighing, "I guess you're mine now."
The creature's tail wagged.
"You need a name."
More tail wagging.
"…Milo."
The tail froze. Then wagged harder.
"Yeah. Milo fits you," Chase grinned.
A crack of thunder echoed above the cave, but it wasn't from the sky—it came from Mason's direction.
"MILO?!" Mason screamed, veins bulging on his forehead. "You bonded with a rare darkness-lightning hybrid winged wyrmling… and you named it Milo?! That's the name of a cabbage farmer's pet chicken!"
"I think it's cute," Chase said aloud, mostly to annoy the old man—though secretly, he liked it too.
Milo gave a satisfied little chirp.
"Milo," the voice echoed again in Chase's mind. "I like Milo."
Chase blinked. "…You can talk?"
"Not yet. But soon."
His jaw fell open slightly. "Okay. That's not unsettling at all."
Milo nuzzled his neck.
Mason, now floating lower, muttered to himself as he rubbed his temples, "First the death of a legendary beast, then the treasure trove, now a spirit bond… At this point, all he needs is a lost legacy scroll, a hidden bloodline, and a love interest from the Heavenly Ascension Realm and he's got the whole checklist."
He stared at the boy. Chase was now sitting on a pile of gold, feeding Milo dried rabbit jerky from a pouch, his face calm and composed as if this was a normal Tuesday.
"…I'm raising a monster," Mason sighed. "A monster with the naming sense of a turnip."
Back below, Chase was going through the loot again. With the spatial ring now filled with herbs and gold, his hand moved toward a dusty scroll tucked into a worn leather case.
"…Huh?" He pulled it open.
Symbols he didn't recognize flared briefly, then vanished. His grey eyes narrowed.
There it was. The next piece of his luck.
A legacy technique.
He didn't know what realm it came from yet, but the weight of it—it was heavy, ancient. Important.
Milo purred again, sensing his change in mood.
"It's yours. Everything here is yours now."
Chase swallowed, his heartbeat slowing down as realization crept in.
He was no longer just the discarded blind cripple.
He was something else now.
And though he couldn't see the cave walls around him, he could feel them—sense every flicker of air, every shift in energy, every heartbeat.
He wasn't alone anymore.
He had Milo.
And Milo had him.