John slumped against the shelter’s house wall, sweat-slicked and grinning through fatigue. "Maxed. You're a monster now—even the Peaks will kneel." Bobo pressed his forehead to John's, a deep purr vibrating the air. Over a year stolen from eternity, the rank G reject had become an apex reaper, bound unbreakable to the boy who saw his worth first.

  But John decided to go beyond and continued the level downs and up for Bobo until his stats did not increase further. John himself was capped since a while ago as trying to get stronger would bring him over level 50 and expel him from the parallel world but Bobo still had growth potential.

  John was not sure how the growth of pets would compare to beings outside the parallel world but Bobo had 5 times his own stats now and was level 200. In the real world, would Bobo be on the edge of becoming Tier V? No, that did not sound right. From what John saw, Bobo could probably face a dragon outside but he would not be vastly superior to dragons yet apparently even dragons did not go beyond Tier IV.

  John studied Bobo's maxed status window one final time, the numbers a testament to over a year of unyielding grind in the trial world's time-dilated shelter. Level 200, rank C stats bloated beyond reason through endless potion loops and summoned horrors—Bobo was a living weapon now, claws that could unmake armies, senses sharp enough to track demons through voids. But the cap loomed like a chain: no further growth without evolution, no true apex without breaking rank C's ceiling.

  "Enough looping," John murmured, rising from the campfire's eternal glow. "You're ready for the next step. My second shelter—the one with the Incubation Chamber. It'll force the evolution you deserve." Bobo tilted his head, eyes gleaming with understanding and a flicker of anticipation, his frame rippling subtly as he rose to follow.

  They exited the familiar underwater dome through the path that connected both shelters. Reality folded in a shimmer of blue light, depositing them in the cavern of the World Tree’s roots.

  The air hummed as John activated his second shelter’s cylindrical metal artifact, the Incubation Chamber—a sealed pod of translucent crystal, thrumming with embryonic warmth. System text flared: Incubation Chamber "Place bonded pet inside for assisted evolution. Time: 7-30 days. Success rate: 92% for max-level specimens. Warning: Failure risks stat regression." Stat regression did not seem like a danger for them, they could just work their way back up.

  Bobo padded forward without hesitation, pressing a paw to the pod's surface. It irised open with a hiss of pressurized mist, revealing a cushioned interior laced with nutrient veins and mana conduits. He met John's gaze one last time—trust absolute—then stepped in. The crystal sealed seamlessly, filling with swirling aurora lights that scanned his form, analyzing rank C limits, XP history, bond strength. John watched the readouts: Evolution Initiated. Projected Rank: B+. Traits Enhanced: Shredder Claws, Apex Hunter, Void Step. Duration: 21 days.

  John settled by the new campfire, stocking the pots with stamina brews and monitoring the chamber's pulses. "Rest now, Bobo. Emerge as what the Peaks fear." The shelter's Rest XP trickled into him faintly, but his mind raced ahead—visions of a rank B Bobo tearing through gigantified Dreadmaws, paving their path back to Golddeep or rather village number 001. Twenty-one days. Then, conquest.

  John watched the Incubation Chamber's aurora lights swirl faster at first, Bobo's silhouette faintly visible within the crystal pod as the system wove its evolutionary magic. The projected 21 days felt manageable—a final push after their year-long grind. But then the lights stuttered. Runes flickered erratically along the chamber's veins, and a harsh red system alert blazed across John's interface:

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  John's stomach dropped. The readout pulsed with instability—mana surges spiking, then flatlining, nutrient conduits glowing overload red. Bobo's form inside twisted subtly, not in pain but in flux, as if the system grappled with his potion-exploited godstats crammed into a mere rank C frame. "Damn the loops," John muttered, fists clenching. Forcing the pod open risked shattering the process, regression, or worse—Bobo's permanent lock at subpar rank or even…, he did not even want to think about worse scenarios.

  He paced the shelter dome. No growth for him here; parallel-world rules capped his gains without new trials, and he couldn't risk distractions. His eyes fell on the faint glow from the cavern wall behind the chamber—the artifact he'd unearthed months ago while scouting this site. A palm-sized Crystal of Temporal Return, etched with draconic runes: Exit Parallel Realm. Real-world time frozen during stay. Re-entry permitted at origin point.

  It was the bridge dragons had hinted at—Golddeep's crystal tower gateway, but portable. Time dilation might work in his favor: endless subjective years here equated to heartbeats there. If the incubation's "???" stretched to eons, John could burn real-world days fighting, training under the collar's seal, then snap back to Bobo. Infinite-fold acceleration against the wait.

  "Stay strong," John whispered, pressing a hand to the pod. It thrummed warmly in response. He gripped the Crystal of Temporal Return, mana flaring blue. Reality warped—the shelter fading to white light. One moment he was in his shelter of the parallel world; the next, Golddeep's crystal tower hummed around him, the collar tightening like an old ache, stats dialing back to sealed baselines. Orwen's forge echoed distantly in his mind; days awaited in the real.

  John cracked his knuckles, trying to summon a Water Orb to test the limits but it was impossible. "I will be back, Bobo. Evolve into your destiny." He looked around Golddeep's depths, time his weapon now.

  John’s mind had materialized in a rush of disorienting light, the Crystal of Temporal Return letting him leave without dying or reaching the time limit. No time had passed in the real world—the crystal tower's prismatic facets still hummed with the exact same azure pulse, Golddeep's cavern air unchanged, heavy with forge soot and distant dragon roars. He slumped against the tower's cool base, collar fully active now, its divine weight sealing him completely from the system: no stats, no mana flow, no skills—just raw, unawakened human frailty honed by Orwen's anvil work.

  Footsteps echoed from the shadowed archway. The instructor—an humanoid dragon with black hair and glowing red eyes, the same one who'd given him a theory lesson on the parallel world—approached with measured caution, staff tapping stone. His gaze swept John's unchanged form, surprise flickering beneath scholarly calm. "Back already? You survived the full 30 days in the trial world, then? Most young dragons emerge... altered. Stronger. What trials did you face?"

  John pushed to his feet, muscles aching from the sudden drop to baseline strength, mind racing to guard his secrets. No mention of the timer not applying to him, Bobo, or the infinite loops—just the bare truth that served. "I found an artifact in there," he said evenly, brushing dust from his ill-fitting dwarven clothes. "It let me return early. I returned to prepare and strategize before the 30 days run out."

  The instructor's eyes narrowed, red glow sharpening as he circled John appraisingly, but no suspicion bloomed—dragons valued resourcefulness, and early returns weren't unheard of for the clever. "Unusual, but approved. The tower accepts re-entry at your mark. Rest first; Orwen's forge awaits if you seek more hammer work." He nodded curtly and retreated, leaving John alone with the tower's pulse.

  John exhaled, glancing at the activation rune. Bobo's "???" wait ticked invisibly in the parallel realm, but here? He was powerless again.

  John lingered by the crystal tower's base only a moment before resolve hardened in his chest. The instructor's footsteps had faded into Golddeep's echoing depths, leaving him alone with some young dragons who had entered the tower with him. Apparently, there was no celebration when little dragons left the trial world and they were all given privacy. John thought about the crystal below the tower and got an idea. “Worth testing”, he thought to himself.

  On his way, he met the instructor again who asked if John had appeared next village 001. John said “No.” and saw a lot of pity appear on the instructor’s face. Apparently he knew, how hard it would be to reach the dungeon if one started at any other village.

  He descended the winding dwarven stairwell carved into the cavern wall, boots scraping worn stone steps slick with millennia of rare passage, until he reached the light crystal below: a gigantic orb of pure radiance embedded in the stone, pulsing softly like a captured star. Its radiation was lethal to others but not to John.

  The air grew thick with aether as he approached, the crystal's glow intensifying. John's skin tingled, then burned faintly where the collar met his neck. A system chime—impossible under full seal—rang in his mind. Stats flickered into view, dimmed but accessible: Collar Restriction Dampened 47%. System Partial Unlock: Basic Stats, Minor Mana Access. Warning: Advanced Features Sealed. His heart raced; the crystal's proximity warped the divine binding, granting a sliver of his parallel-world freedom. Health at 280, Mana trickling back to 500/2000— not his real stats immediately but maybe enough to gamble. Still, John waited until the crystal annulled the effects of the collar and he saw his 9’999 and 999 stats.

  "Tiger form," John whispered, channeling the surge. Blue fur rippled across his arms, paws elongating, spine arching as the restricted form of the Azure Astral Fangborn transformation ignited. Power flooded in—muscles coiling, senses sharpening—but the collar reacted violently. It constricted like a living noose, no rather, the collar was still but remained indestructible while his neck got broader, squeezing his throat with crushing force. Air choked off; black spots danced in his vision as bones creaked under the pressure.

  Panic surged. John aborted mid-shift, forcing the feral essence back in a wrenching reversal. Fur receded in painful waves, limbs snapping human, the world steadying as he collapsed to his knees, gasping ragged breaths. The collar loosened grudgingly, its warning etched in his mind: his Bloodline Transformation was blocked. Not through some system mechanic but rather due to asphyxiation risk. His human shape returned fully, but the lesson stuck.

  He staggered upright, rubbing his bruised neck, eyes locked on the crystal. "Close enough," he rasped. System access in the real world thanks to the crystal meant something but he could still not get rid of the crystal. He tried to rip it apart with all his strength, tried magic and aura but to no avail.