Chapter 530

Chapter 530

Little Fa Meng was a playful little troublemaker who adored frolicking with other beast companions. If Lorant stayed inside Blue Star without venturing out, this little one would likely dart among groups of beast companions—lording over the Black Forest with the Crimson-Eyed Black Crow one day, galloping far beyond the outpost's controlled territory with a herd of Windbreaking Horses the next, and happily crouching on the ground planting mushrooms with the Mushroom Grower the day after.

Given Fa Meng's formidable strength, Lorant never interfered with its mischief, giving it free rein. Even when the outpost kept lamenting that the Crimson-Eyed Black Crows, originally assigned to work there, had all run off with Fa Meng, Lorant paid no heed.

Thanks to Lorant's deliberate indulgence, the little one fit right in with every kind of beast companion. Naturally, it was thrilled at the prospect of a new companion being bred.

Within ten minutes, Lorant bolted from his warm bed to his underground research lab.

Based on the Beast Tower’s design, Blue Star's underground facility was a comprehensive research space. Beyond breeding chambers and beast pens, near the residential area, Lorant had built himself a personal lab modeled after the Beast Tower.

Though not a true mage—and thus unlikely to make any real breakthroughs through rigorous study—Lorant had a genuine passion for such endeavors. While he didn’t visit the lab daily, he would stop by in his spare time whenever he had nothing pressing to handle.

As a result, the lab was equipped much like a mage’s lab, stocked with all necessary materials.

While Lorant and Baby busied themselves organizing instruments in the room, Fa Meng swiftly scanned Blue Star's material inventory, filtering out everything Lorant needed—along with some decoy materials—before teleporting them over.

Despite Blue Star's extensive reserves, materials were stored in various locations under specific conditions, with some even kept in Blue Star's territory, making it hard to gather everything quickly.

The staggering number of materials required to breed a Nightmare surpassed anything Lorant had encountered before.

Yet, this was also one reason the entire breeding process could be compressed into such a brief period.

Only a single live beast—a carrier—was needed for one successful gestation. The rest were all high-grade replacement materials.

Out of over a thousand assorted materials, more than half were delivered to Lorant within half an hour, thanks to Blue Star's remarkably efficient supply system.

Though most materials weren’t exceptionally high-grade (mostly around Level 10, with only one Level 13 plant beast giving Lorant some trouble), their combined value was staggering—enough to fund a mid-sized guild for three to five years.

Moreover, even with unlimited funds, gathering all these materials could take decades.

Currently, the only place on the continent that might rival Blue Star's material reserves would be the combined resources of several Mage Towers under the Magic Parliament.

Lorant's pack-rat instincts were on full display in Blue Star, this burgeoning organization.

Had his personal research lab not been spacious enough, these materials wouldn’t even have fit.

"Excellent," Lorant purred, running his fingers tenderly over the array of materials before him—more lovingly than he might caress a lover. "Now, let’s hurry and bring this unfamiliar little one into the world to join us."

"Oh, Fa Meng," he added, suddenly remembering as he picked up a branch, "don’t forget to arrange for someone to find a Field Snowhare. Fatten it up over the next few days—we’ll want the finest specimen to serve as the carrier for our first batch of Nightmares."

The sole live beast required for the Nightmare's breeding process turned out to be a humble Field Snowhare.

Despite its name suggesting snow and rabbits, the Field Snowhare was actually a gray-furred creature resembling a large, long-eared rodent—one of the lowliest of all beasts.

Field Snowhares reproduced rapidly and adapted exceptionally well to their environments, spreading across nearly every corner of the continent.

Leave one unattended, and in about three weeks, it would produce a clutch of nine beast eggs—all on its own.

Yes, on its own.

The Field Snowhare was one of the rare self-reproducing hermaphrodites, the only noteworthy trait of this otherwise unremarkable creature.

Apart from that, its combat capabilities and potential harm to people are negligible. If not for their coarse fur—unappealing to those who could afford exotic beast hides—and their revolting meat (even worse than other weak live beasts), plus the fact they mysteriously die off and stop breeding in captivity, they might have become one of the primary meat sources across the continent.

After all, any able-bodied commoner could easily defeat such a "fragile" beast.

If not for their rapid reproduction and the lack of time and energy among those capable of dealing with them, these live beasts would’ve been wiped out ages ago.

Years ago, when Lorant couldn’t afford exotic beast meat to nourish Silem, he’d pray to stumble upon these common, pushover beasts in the outskirts after leaving the city.

Even though the meat was truly awful, Silem would still eat it happily. In a place where most people had no access to meat at all, even a mouthful of exotic beast meat—hell, just a full belly—was a godsend.

One could say these ugly critters kept Lorant’s family afloat during his hardest times.

As one of the lowest-ranking beasts among all exotic creatures, Field Snowhares rarely draw the attention of ordinary mages. Due to their extreme fragility, they aren’t even suitable for experimental potion testing—in the eyes of mages, they’re basically pond scum.

No one cares about such beasts.

Yet, to breed a "Nightmare," one must refine thousands of incredibly precious high-grade materials—each valuable enough to be treasured on its own—and then feed them to this lowest-tier, most insignificant beast.

The moment Lorant simulated the successful breeding process in his mind, he was utterly awed by the ingenuity of the creator.

If not for his simulator requiring no resources, no one in their right mind would try this. Breeding a Nightmare would otherwise be a pipe dream.

Without Lorant, it might take a legendary practitioner in the research field going mad and squandering their fortune for this creature to have even a one-in-a-million chance of existing.

Cracking his knuckles, Lorant immediately began preparing for the breeding process.

Three pounds of the most ordinary "White Grass" and a 1.74-kilogram chunk of rare ore "Sea Calmstone" were placed in a cauldron, submerged in water, then mixed with five drops of the priceless "Nectar of Life and Death"—said to revive the dead and heal even legendary practitioners—before being boiled uncovered for two hours.

Meanwhile, a section of "Blackfang Vine," grown for at least fifty years to reach a cross-section of fifteen centimeters, was cut into two-centimeter segments at a 37-degree angle with a silver knife. The knife’s flat side was then used to work out the black sap inside.

Applying too much force or attempting crude extraction would yield silver goop—worthless.

During this process, one also had to avoid the vine’s black "fangs," as their sticky venom would not only ruin the knife on contact but also contaminate the sap. You’d need surgeon-level precision to pull this off.

Xiao Lan handled this finicky job, carefully wielding the silver knife while enveloped in sapphire energy, meticulously completing the work.

Bao Bao, meanwhile, went full ham. Using silk to swing a zircon hammer, it crushed seventy-seven differently colored and shaded "Zircon Stones" into powder. These gemstones were incredibly hard—just a tiny amount mixed into weapons could enhance their quality. Turning them into powder required immense force, and Bao Bao’s hammering made the entire table shake violently.

The relentless *bang bang* grated on Fa Meng’s nerves, so she flung up a quick silence ward to muffle the noise.

Fa Meng, meanwhile, handled a gloppy wad of moss—"Green Sea Rock Moss," a rare variety that grows only in underground caves a kilometer deep, near subterranean lakes. It’s crazy finicky, so it’s stupid rare.

Blue Star had only this one stockpile, carefully preserved in a specialized container to maintain freshness.

The slimy mess was really just a bunch of marble-sized algae blobs. Fa Meng’s task was to pick out fifty of them and wash them three to five times in a specialized corrosive solution to remove the slime.

The remaining algae could then be used later.

Fa Meng took on this job because the cleaning solution was highly corrosive—just a whiff could melt your lungs. Of course, such corrosion meant nothing to Fa Meng, who dutifully bubble-wrapped the toxic air before scrubbing away.

Meanwhile, Kong Yi received Lorant’s instructions and went to the lower levels to inspect Blue Star’s small stock of Field Snowhares, usually kept as live feed to stimulate other beasts. The results were disappointing—these hares were just scooped up and kept barely alive, not even close to Lorant’s standards.

Wanting only the finest live specimens, Lorant had Kong Yi immediately post a task through Blue Star, targeting all students and high-ranking adventurers at the Knight Academy. Within days, every Field Snowhare around Mauplan would likely be hunted into oblivion.