Chia huffed, rolling her shoulders. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

I nodded. “Good. Do you have the materials?”

Silence.

She blinked. “...Materials?”

I gave her a flat look. “Yeah. The stuff you need for the ritual.”

More silence.

She tilted her head. “What stuff?”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Chia. You do know that forming a contract isn’t just touching the boar and making a wish, right?”

Her face scrunched up. “Wait, what? But you just touched Bobo and—”

I cut her off with a sharp look. “Nobody knows why that happened the way it did. Not me, not my parents, not even the researchers. It’s not normal.”

She frowned. “So… what is normal?”

I exhaled. “For starters, you need materials to help align your mana with his. Especially since he’s an adult beast with a strong will and an unclear affinity.”

I started listing on my fingers.

“First, fire spirit stones. Magma spirit stones if you can get them. Both would be ideal.”

She nodded slowly.

“Second, array materials. We need to paint a proper bonding array, which means specialized ink infused with mana-conductive properties. Not just any ink will do.”

Her brows furrowed.

“Third, a stabilizing catalyst. Bonding an already-mature beast is a lot harder than forming a contract with a newborn. If the mana doesn’t sync properly, it could—”

“Explode?” she deadpanned.

I stared at her.

She groaned. “Of course. Of course it could explode.”

I ignored that. “And last, a guidance medium. Something to bridge the gap between your mana and his. Normally, that would be a blood sample, but considering his mutation history…” I trailed off.

Her face had slowly drained of color.

I raised an eyebrow. “You… have all that, right?”

Chia didn’t respond.

A long pause.

Then, very softly—

“...I was not prepared for this.”

I resisted the urge to facepalm.

She shook her head quickly. “No, no, no, wait! It’s fine! We can get those things, right? I mean, how much could it possibly—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened.

Realization hit her like a runaway cart.

A slow, painful breath. “...Akul.”

“Yeah?”

“How expensive are these things?”

I didn’t answer right away.

I didn’t need to.

The way she buried her face in her hands told me she already knew.

I sighed. “Look, don’t stress about it yet. My mother said she’d help you, right? If she’s already going this far, maybe she factored in the cost of materials, too.”

Chia peeked through her fingers. “You think?”

I shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Ughhhhh.”

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I smirked. “C’mon. Let’s go see my mother.”

Bobo chittered from my shoulder, looking way too amused.

Marshmallow snorted softly from his enclosure.

And Chia?

She let out the longest, most dramatic sigh of her life.

“…I am so bad at being a summoner.”

I was the first to race home, with Chia right on my tail, but our plans soon hit a hard wall.

And it was a wall I never saw coming.

My mother turned, arms crossed.

Uh-oh.

“Explain,” she said.

Chia and I froze.

Bobo, sensing incoming doom, immediately sat down and tried to look small.

“…Explain what?” I asked, playing dumb.

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I don’t know, Akul. Maybe explain why my son and his equally reckless friend thought they could just rush into a bonding ritual without a single ounce of preparation?”

Chia shifted beside me, shrinking under my mother’s glare. “Uh…”

Mom wasn’t done. She stepped forward, voice calm—but that kind of calm. The dangerous kind.

“Do you have the materials?” she asked.

I opened my mouth.

She raised a hand. “The proper materials, Akul. Not just anything you think might work. Do you have them?”

I closed my mouth.

Her gaze snapped to Chia. “Do you have your Beast Space prepared?”

Chia blinked. “My what?”

That was the wrong answer.

Mom exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

I took a cautious step back.

She slowly turned back to me.

“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You two—” she gestured between us, “—decided, completely unprepared, to perform a bonding ritual with a mature beast, who just recently recovered from severe mutations, without any of the necessary steps in place?”

I hesitated. “I mean, when you put it like that—”

“That’s the only way to put it, Akul!” she snapped.

Chia flinched.

Bobo flinched.

…I flinched.

Then, out of nowhere—

She turned to Bobo.

“And you!”

Bobo’s ears perked. He pointed to himself.

“Yes, you!” My mother threw up her hands. “Why is it that whenever something reckless happens, you’re right in the middle of it?!”

Bobo frantically shook his head, then immediately turned—and pointed straight at me.

I blinked. “Excuse me?!”

Bobo let out an exaggerated chitter, dramatically waving his little hands as if to say, Him! It was all him!

Chia gasped. “Bobo, you snitch!”

Bobo shrugged.

Mom gave me a slow, knowing look.

I groaned, feeling betrayed by my own companion. “Et tu, Bobo?”

Bobo puffed up his chest like he had done his duty.

Mom sighed, rubbing her temples. “I swear, it’s like dealing with three babies.”

Chia cleared her throat. “…I think what Akul’s mom is trying to say is that we should probably—uh—wait?”

“Wait? Wait! Yes, Chia. You should wait. You should also prepare. You should also think!” My mother let out a slow, deliberate breath, collecting herself. “There is a procedure for these things. A process. Do you even understand why?”

Chia frowned. “To… make sure it works?”

“That’s part of it.” Mom folded her arms again, expression softer now, but firm. “More importantly, it ensures both parties are ready. The tamer and the beast.”

Chia bit her lip.

“The ritual isn’t just about forming a bond—it’s about synchronization. Without it, the connection can be unstable. Weak. Dangerous.” My mother sighed, rubbing her temples. “Marshmallow is not ready. You are not ready. And this—” she gestured vaguely at the two of us, “—was a disaster waiting to happen.”

Silence.

Chia looked down, guilt creeping across her face.

I scratched the back of my head. “…So, uh. What now?”

Mom exhaled. “Now, we do things properly.”

I resisted the urge to groan.

“First,” she continued, “Chia needs to create her Beast Space.”

Chia blinked. “That’s… inside my artifact, right?”

“Yes. That’s the foundation of your connection. If you don’t have a proper space built, your bond will be weak, and your beast won’t have a stable place to recover or cultivate.”

Chia hesitated. “How do I… make one?”

Mom’s expression softened. “Chia, how have you been cultivating your artifact up until this point?

Chia puffed up her cheeks. “Easy! I just feed it!”

Mom blinked. “…Feed it?”

Chia held up her artifact—her floating, pastel-colored box. “Yup! Every night before bed, I imagine stuffing it with mana like I’m baking a super-delicious treat. I picture layers—like a cake! First, the mana base, then the thick, gooey center, then—”

She clapped her hands. “BOOM! I wrap it all up with a warm, toasty glaze of Magma energy and let it ‘bake’ overnight!”

Silence.

I rubbed my temple. “…You’ve been baking your artifact?”

Chia grinned. “And it’s working!” She opened the box. A tiny, molten candy floated up, flickering with unstable energy. “See? Freshly made!”

Bobo squinted at it, then immediately turned away.

Mom exhaled. “Well… it’s unconventional, but if it works…”

Chia beamed. “Of course it works! Good food makes everything better!”

I sighed. This girl is unbelievable.

Mom’s expression was stuck somewhere between disbelief and mild horror.

"I heard many thing in my life but this... Well Chia, I can only say that you will have to figure out your own way of building your beast space, something you'll have to learn through cultivation and experience. But I can help guide you through the basics."

Chia perked up slightly. "Oh! That's great! That means we can still—"

"After you're ready," Mom interrupted.

Chia deflated.

I sighed. “And what about Marshmallow?”

Mom’s gaze flicked toward the enclosure. “He needs to be fully stable. That means more recovery time. More observation. Right now, he’s only just begun adjusting to his new body.”

“So…” Chia shifted awkwardly. “We can’t do anything yet?”

“Not yet.”

Silence again.

Then—

Chia clapped her hands together. “Well, that’s fine! That just means I have time to train and get stronger!”

I blinked.

Mom blinked.

Bobo blinked.

Then, my mother chuckled. “That’s the right mindset, at least.”

Chia beamed.

I sighed in defeat.

Mom ruffled my hair. "You have a good friend, Akul. Just… try not to let her follow you off a cliff next time."

Chia gasped, looking offended. “Excuse me! I’m very responsible!”

Bobo chittered something under his breath as he smirked.

Chia pointed at him. “You stay out of this!”

Mom sighed, rubbing her temples again. “I need tea.”

I patted her arm. “You deserve it.”

She huffed. “That, and maybe a break from you troublemakers.”

Chia grinned. “We’re not troublemakers. We’re problem solvers.”

Mom gave her a look.

Chia immediately hid behind me.

I sighed.

This was going to be a long process.