The silence hung inside the underground lair.
Kent stood still, his sharp gaze locked on the leader of the Mystic Sky Antelopes—a fading elder, breathing heavily, kneeling with eyes full of exhaustion, pain… and plea.
Then, the unexpected happened.
The beast leader, trembling, slowly lifted his head and with a muffled growl summoned a spiritual storage orb from under his hoof. It floated in the air between them—glimmering softly with golden runes.
Kent narrowed his eyes as it hovered toward him and opened mid-air.
Inside, 150 beast cores of a warm yellow hue radiated intense energy. Each core pulsed with life essence and battle-hardened spirit. These were no ordinary offerings.
"Yellow-ranked beast cores…?" Kent whispered, astonished. "Third-tier among the four…?"
The leader let out a weak cry, nodding slowly.
"These… were preserved from our fallen kin," Kent translated in his mind, reading the emotion behind the gaze. "Not stolen, not hunted—sacrifices of the past."
