Roran lay amidst the trophies of his kill of two Level 10 cores and the bodies of his newly bonded beasts' parents. The internal damage from the Mountain King Tiger's last, desperate strike was catastrophic. Though the Heavenly Dragon Technique gave him an impossible Vitality 100, the pure kinetic force had fractured his ribs, bruised his heart, and caused severe internal bleeding. He was vomiting thick, black blood.
He knew if he tried to climb back to the surface, the Level 8 beasts would finish him. This cavern was his hospital, his sanctuary, and his prison.
Roran immediately began the slow, agonizing process of internal recovery. He focused his Dragon Qi not on attack, but on repair, forcing the golden energy to weave and mend his damaged organs. It was a process of days, then weeks, where he barely moved, relying on the dense, mana rich meat he had carved from the Skyfire Eagle's body.
The Mountain King Cub was his only companion. The cub, still blind but guided by the Blood Bond, instinctively understood Roran's suffering. When Roran's fever spiked, the cub would crawl onto his chest, its tiny body emanating a protective, steady warmth that seemed to soothe Roran's fractured core. This simple, unconscious care was a deeper healing than any magic. They were two broken orphans, relying on a shared life force.
Roran risked leaving the cavern only twice in the six months to forage for medicinal herbs on the upper slopes of the mountain. Using Silence and Flow, he moved like a phantom to find potent Sun-Grown Moss and Grave Lumen Root herbs that drastically boosted regeneration.
After nearly six long months, Roran stood upright. His chest was healed, his lungs were clear, and the steady, silent flow of his Dragon Qi was cleaner than ever. The cub, which he had fed and sheltered, was now a small creature with powerful paws and stripes beginning to appear on its darkening fur.
On the day Roran decided he was strong enough to resume his hunt, the cavern's atmosphere shattered.
A deep, resonating hum started from the Skyfire Eagle's egg. The clean, pure air of the cavern began to crackle with an unnatural energy. The air was sucked out, replaced by the terrifying pressure of an incoming storm, even though they were deep underground.
The sky outside the hole, visible through the cavern entrance, turned from blood-red to a churning, cosmic black, ripped apart by violent streaks of purple-white lightning. This was not a weather phenomenon; it was a Celestial Tribulation, the cosmic baptism that greets the birth of true, high-tier magical beings.
The egg, now pulsing like a miniature sun, lifted off the ground and began to float upward, drawn by the power above. The Mountain King Cub whimpered and backed away, recognizing the raw, terrifying power.
Roran watched in horror as the first tendril of purple lightning speared down, aimed directly at the floating egg.
"No!" Roran shouted.
He thought only of his promise to the dying mother. Ignoring his own carefully rebuilt body, Roran launched himself into the air toward the egg. He roared, channeling his highest-level technique, the Heavenly Dragon Slash: Barrier not as a shell, but as a lightning rod.
The lightning struck Roran instantly. It wasn't just energy; it felt like being hit by a metaphysical hammer. The strike blew his Dragon Qi Barrier apart, slammed his body into the stone floor, and rendered him instantly unconscious. The cub, caught in the residual shockwave, yelped and was thrown against the wall, knocked out cold.
The world was silent when Roran finally woke. The lingering scent of ozone and burnt stone hung heavy in the cool air. Roran's body was smoking and bruised, but his Dragon Heart was beating fiercely, having successfully weathered the incredible shock.
He looked up at the spot where the egg had floated. All that remained was a small pile of glittering, pulverized shell fragments.
Roran felt a cold dread, quickly replaced by a surge of terrible guilt. He had failed. After all the sacrifices and all his power, he was still too weak to keep a simple promise. He pounded his fist on the ground, a silent, choking cry of failure trapped in his throat.
Then, a small, happy mew reached his ears.
Roran snapped his head up.
Not far away, next to the recovering cub, was a bird. It was tiny, with feathers the color of freshly forged brass, and its wings were wreathed in miniature, softly glowing Skyfire. It was already exploring its new world, playfully batting at the Mountain King cub's twitching ear.
The Skyfire Eagle had been successfully born. The Tribulation had not destroyed the egg; it had hatched it.
Roran's guilt evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming, childlike flood of relief and joy. He laughed, a raw, happy sound that had been absent for years, and scrambled over to them. The three bonded souls, the powerful human, the tiny tiger, and the fire-wreathed eagle, cuddled together in the quiet heart of the cavern.
That night, Roran lay on the cold stone, watching the cub lick his healing wounds, while the eagle nestle against his chest like a feather-light heat source. Looking out at the stars faintly visible through the mountain crack, Roran smiled.
"You, my strong little mountain, your name will be Aran," Roran murmured to the cub, feeling the happiness resonate through their bond. "And you, my fiery little star, you will be Nova."
The newly named Aran gave a soft, happy rumble, and Nova let out a chirp that sounded like crackling embers. They were family now, the only family Roran truly had left. With his two companions curled against him, Roran finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, ready for the next stage of the Scarlet Plains.