Behind , I heard soft movents as Agatha began fixing everything I had disturbed—stones realigned, chalk dust wiped away, board placed neatly beside . The room returned to order as if chaos had only been a rumor.
After a mont, she stopped in front of .
"It’s almost lunch ti, my lady. Do you want to have your al delivered here, or would you prefer to dine in the dining room?"
My tail swung lazily from side to side, thumping softly against the cushion. Without lifting my face from the sofa, I reached blindly for my writing board, which—of course—was already neatly positioned within reach. and scribbled:
"Dining room."
"Then please wait here for a mont, my lady. I’ll return once the table is set."
My ears twitched once in acknowledgnt, though my face remained firmly planted into upholstery.
When the door clicked shut, the room fell into a silence.
I rolled onto my back on the sofa, kicked my legs into the air for montum, and summoned my OmniSync. A translucent interface flickered to life above , casting pale blue light across the ceiling.
[Search: Energy stones – Hysteria stabilization efficiency.]
[Search: Beast form conformity resonance theory.]
[Search: Why are most energy stones so diocre?]
Results flooded in.
I propped myself up on my elbows, tail swishing thoughtfully.
The most effective energy stones for suppressing Hysteria required a high degree of similarity between the stone’s carved form and the wearer’s beast form.
That makes sense.
Energy resonance is structural.
If the internal flow channels don’t match the beast’s physiological energy pathways, the stone compensates through suppression rather than synchronization.
Which leads to cracks.
Which leads to inefficiency.
Which leads to headaches, mood swings, and accidental destruction.
I scrolled further.
Not all beastn have access to master carvers capable of tailoring a stone to their exact form. Custom carving is expensive, ti-consuming, and often reserved for nobles or high-ranking individuals.
In most cases, generic shapes are used.
Example: An energy stone carved in the shape of a lion can be adapted to any beastman with a lion form.
But adaptation is not optimization.
The closer the similarity between the carved energy stone and the wearer’s true beast form, the more pronounced the stabilizing effect.
So a lion stone for a generic lion beastman works.
But a lion stone carved specifically to match that individual lion’s mane pattern, muscle structure, and core resonance?
That would be exponentially more effective.
Mane density. Bone structure. Wing span. Feather layering. Tail length. Core placent.
I was just about to scroll deeper when there was a polite knock on the door.
Before I could even minimize the floating tabs, the door opened a fraction.
"Dinner’s ready, my lady."
"Nyang!"
Translation: I’m coming!
I hopped off the sofa and padded toward Agatha, who stood waiting with her usual composed expression. If she noticed the faint glow fading from the air behind , she didn’t comnt.
"I’ll escort you to the dining room, my lady."
I gave a small nod and followed her down the hallway.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The mont I finished eating, I walked very calmly down the hallway. But the mont I reached my room and closed the door, I bolted towards the balcony and crept across Soren’s room.
Once inside, I was about to head toward the concealed panel that led to his hidden workshop, when sothing caught my eye.
I climbed onto the bed and there it was.
My chanical arm.
Placed neatly on top of the bed like he already predicted that I would co looking for it.
I padded closer and lowered my face until I was inches away from it.
It was finally complete.
The structure was sleeker than I rembered. The tal fra had been reinforced, the joints polished to a smooth, almost liquid shine. But what made my breath hitch slightly were the tools attached along the fingers.
His dragon scales.
Refined, sharpened, embedded seamlessly into the carving tips.
Dragon scales weren’t just durable—they were absurdly durable. Heat-resistant, fracture-resistant, and capable of cutting through dense mineral cores without dulling.
I leaned forward and bit the arm at the reinforced midsection. It was heavier than expected, and the cool tal pressed against my teeth.
I hopped off the bed, landing softly, and padded back toward the joint balcony with my prize clamped securely in my mouth.
The afternoon breeze greeted again as I crossed back into my room. Once inside, I gently shut the door and locked it.
Then I placed the chanical arm on my worktable as I slipped it onto my arm, feeling the internal chanisms align and lock into place with a soft, satisfying click. A faint hum ran through it as the calibration activated.
I flexed and the fingers responded instantly. I grabbed the first low-grade stone as I activated the carving tip.
My eyes glinted.
In my mind, the figure had already taken shape.
Agatha’s beast form.
I began shaping the head first—slightly tilted posture because Agatha always tilts her head when confused but trying not to show it. Then the curve of the beak as shavings of crystal fell onto the table like expensive snow.
Then ca the body.
Diamond doves are compact, elegant little things. But Agatha isn’t just a diamond dove.
She’s pied which ans asymtry.
I paused dramatically and leaned back, studying the stone. "Left wing: more white," I murmured, recalling the exact distribution of her feathers. "Right wing: darker patch near the midline."
The dragon-scale tip sliced through the stone with effortless precision, carving subtle dips and contours to represent the feather pattern.
I adjusted the wing span slightly narrower than the generic template I’d seen online. Agatha’s proportions were delicate. Too wide, and the resonance would disperse incorrectly. Too narrow, and it would bottleneck at the core.
I carved the tail next, refining the angle.
Minutes passed.
Or hours.
At so point I realized I was hunched over the table like a gremlin guarding treasure.
I straightened my back.
Crack.
Finally, I lifted the carving tool and blew gently on the stone. Crystal dust scattered and there she was.
Agatha 1.0—Pied Edition—sat on the side of my worktable, glowing faintly. The tiny diamond dove sculpture looked so realistic I half-expected it to judge my posture.
I placed it down carefully and exhaled slowly and turned my gaze to the remaining stones lined up in a neat little row.
"One down," I muttered. "Nine stones left."
I rotated my chanical wrist experintally. The dragon-scale tips glead. My tail flicked once in satisfaction.
’Now. What next?’ I tapped the carving tool lightly against the table as I thought.
Pigeon? Niche.
Wolf? Popular but competitive.
Lion? Too noble-coded. Nobles love exclusivity and hate affordable innovation.
If I wanted to introduce my superior, individually harmonized, non-cracking, non-life-threatening energy stones into the market—
I needed volu, common demand, and wide appeal.
"A cat," I muttered.
Cat beasts are everywhere.
Alleyways. rchant districts. Servants’ quarters. Half the capital probably has soone who can sprout whiskers under stress. They’re common, adaptable, and nurous—which ans demand.
And where there is demand—
There is business.
I slowly turned to the remaining uncarved stones, eyeing them like a strategist surveying troops. "This," I declared softly, pointing at one in particular, "is about to beco a product."
The first stones I sell will be for cat beasts.
Affordable. Reliable. Tailored—but not individually custom, because my clients would pay a hefty amount if they want it to be customized.
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my chanical hand.
Cats co in variations. Big, small, long-haired, short-haired, smug-haired.
’What kind of cat?’
Not too bulky—so not tiger.
Not too delicate—so not overly refined aristocrat kitten.
It had to be a standard feline silhouette. Sothing versatile. Sothing that could harmonize with the majority of mid-tier cat beasts.
Broad compatibility, but with better internal alignnt than generic carvings.
I smirked.
This would be my prototype for mass distribution.
I grabbed a fresh stone and secured it in place.
"Alright," I murmured. "Let’s build you a bestseller."
First, silhouette.
Not overly bulky, balanced proportions, and a slight arch to the back.
Then the head.
Ears upright but relaxed. Not too sharp, not too rounded.
I began carving, crystal shards sprinkling across the table like overpriced glitter.
Too specific, and it wouldn’t fit enough wearers.
Too generic, and it becos another "close enough" failure.
I refined the shoulders next.
Cats carry tension in their upper back during partial shifts. If the energy flow bottlenecks there, it could result in claw instability or—worse—uncontrolled tail manifestation.
I leaned closer, eyes narrowed in focus., I gave the cat stone a slightly raised chin and I smoothed the face last, carving faint indications of whisker lines.
The final etch slid into place with a soft, satisfying tick.
I lifted the cat statue carefully, turning it beneath the lamplight.
It was perfect.
I exhaled slowly and flipped the statue gently and angled my carving tip behind its right ear.
The dragon-scale tip humd softly as I carved two clean, precise letters:
B.F.
It simply stands for my na Blanca Frostine.
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