At the class advancement ceremony, Lin Yu awakened a rare Beast Keeper class, dismissed as “useless.” When combat-class students mocked him for being fit only to tend a pet shed, he unexpectedly bound to the hidden mythic-class Shadow Keeper, which lets him share his pets' growth and experience, and even inherit their skills.
“Can raising pets really hold back the tides of deep-sea aliens?” sneered Tom, an American exchange student clutching an exorbitantly expensive fire-element egg. Behind him stood a group of combat-class students looking down on those in life-skills classes.
Lin Yu said nothing, absently rubbing the Shadow Keeper mark between his brows. A steady stream of faint notification chimes rang in his ears: the sheep he was boarding had nibbled on poisonous weeds and gained resistance, raising his constitution by 0.001; Su Qingyue's bubble fish had purified a polluted stream, raising his spirit by 0.002; even the swordswoman's wind-element bird had driven off an alien scout skimming low overhead, earning him a shared point of experience.
These seemingly insignificant gains were like streams gathering into a river and then the sea. His strength had climbed from 1 to 15.9, his agility had surpassed 26 thanks to Tiaotiao's wind-swept speed, and Tuantuan's iron scales had pushed his constitution close to 24. This wasn't because he had swung a sword and fought enemies himself, but because countless ordinary people from the Great Xia Nation had gained ground in the gaps of the battlefield with the help of their pets.
