A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

The moment I said that, Heim straightened, his usual scowl shifting into something closer to interest. "About time," he muttered.

I ignored him.

"Based on recent findings," I continued, "we have solid reasons to believe that the ruins Amaterasu entered—the ones that made her disappear for two whole months despite her swearing it only felt like two days—are actually one of the space-time nodes of the Lost Realm."

Silence. The kind where everyone processed exactly how deep into mythical disaster territory we were heading.

"Whether the node is still intact or has been compromised is uncertain," I went on, "but we're classifying this as Code Black—top danger level."

"What exactly did you find?" Heim asked, frowning. He hadn't been at the previous briefing, so I wasn't surprised by the question.

I took a deep breath. "First, when we entered, Amaterasu's essence was being siphoned off. She had no idea it was happening. But me, Agnos, and Jiuge? Totally fine." I paused. "That was the first security trigger—the orb's defense mechanism."

"The second?" Heim prompted.

"Time anomaly," I said. "She thought she was only inside for two days, but in reality? She was missing for two months."

Heim rubbed his chin. "So you're saying two of the security levels have been triggered?"

I shook my head. "I think all three have."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Because Zilant," I said, "one of the known guardians of space-time nodes, spit a fragment of space-time directly into my face."

Heim's lips twitched. "So you're saying Zilant is the guardian of that ruin?"

I opened my mouth to confirm—then froze.

Wait. No. That didn't track.

Zilant was the protector of the Ancient City of Kazan. And according to Trauco, the prison's underground was where the node Zilant guarded was located.

So who was the guardian of this ruin?

Was it even a node?

"When you put it like that…" I frowned. "Zilant isn't the guardian. He's in charge of the Ancient City of Kazan."

The room went quiet. Everyone was thinking the same thing.

Heim crossed his arms. "So what are you saying now? Is the ruin a node or not?"

I mentally retraced every clue we had. The probability of this ruin also being a node was high. But there was another problem.

If all three security levels had been triggered, that meant the third—the final failsafe—was still in play.

I exhaled sharply. "I need some clarification. Can any of the Unknown Gods here tell me—what exactly causes a guardian to give up a fragment?"

Naga immediately answered, his voice steady. "There are two reasons."

Everyone turned to him.

"One—if the node is being breached and the guardian is too weakened to protect it. When this happens, the node itself forcefully extracts a fragment as a failsafe."

A bad sign. Very bad sign.

"The second?" I asked.

Naga's eyes darkened. "When the guardian finds the rightful owner of the fragment. Meaning—"

"The core owner of the node," Agnos finished.

"Correct," Naga said. "That only happens when the guardian senses that the node is in danger. They don't gift fragments casually." He eyed me. "But you're saying Zilant just... gave you one?"

Heim's frown deepened. "So hold it right there just a second—you're telling me the guardian handed Carl a fragment, not because its node was in danger, but just… because?"

"Well, maybe Zilant just has simple priorities," Agnos drawled, taking a slow, satisfied sip of his tea. "Carl has bribed him with snacks and a well-timed food offering." He smirked.

"Apparently, that's the case," Jiuge said with a knowing smile. Her nine tails swished lazily behind her—one nearly smacking Agnos in the face.

Without missing a beat, Agnos swiped the tail away with his fingers—so smoothly it was obvious he'd done it a thousand times before.

Jiuge's ear twitched.

Agnos smirked.

I, meanwhile, was trying to ignore the creeping realization that whatever was happening with these ruins was way worse than we thought.

Heim frowned, his arms crossed as he shook his head.

"This doesn't add up. Guardians of leyline nodes don't just hand out fragments like candy. There are safeguards for everything, even for anomalies like Zilant."

His voice was edged with suspicion, like he was trying to solve a puzzle that refused to fit together.

Jiuge's tails flicked again—one nearly smacking Agnos, who deflected it with the effortless grace of someone who had long since mastered the art of dodging fox-tail sneak attacks.

"If I may add," she said smoothly, "guardians do have the authority to release a fragment when they sense a security breach… or when they believe the power of an Unknown God is at risk."

That caught my attention. My mind latched onto her words like a fish snagged on a hook. "Wait. What do you mean by that?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around the implications.

Jiuge met my gaze, her pink eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"It's simple," she said. "If a guardian believes its node is in danger, it can return the fragment to its rightful owner so the power can be restored. A fragment wasn't meant to stay in a guardian's possession indefinitely—keeping it too long would start affecting their essence."

I didn't like the sound of that. "And if they hold onto it for too long?" I asked, already bracing for an answer I wouldn't like.

Agnos set down his teacup with a soft clink and stretched lazily, his voice annoyingly nonchalant.

"Well, if a guardian holds a fragment for too long—say, a thousand years or more—it starts losing itself. The memories and power inside the fragment begin consuming it. At best, the guardian becomes… unstable. At worst?"

He flashed me a pointed look. "You remember that basilisk we dealt with? Yeah. It stops being a guardian and starts being a mindless beast running on pure instinct."

I exhaled slowly, my mind spinning. So if Zilant gave me a fragment willingly… what the hell did that mean?

My brain was running a mile a minute, trying to piece everything together. Something still wasn't adding up. I took a breath and asked, "Alright, everyone—except Fenrir, obviously, since he's apparently not one of the Unknown Gods."

Fenrir raised his hands in mock surrender, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "Hey, don't mind me. I'll just sit here and enjoy the show."

I gave him a quick nod before continuing, "There's one thing I need to confirm before we move forward. I need a foolproof strategy that won't get us trapped in the ruins for god-knows-how-long—or worse, killed."

That got their full attention. Every eye in the room locked onto me, their expressions a mix of curiosity, concern, and in Heim's case, barely contained impatience.

I let the weight of my question settle before asking, "What are the chances that when a guardian willingly hands over a fragment, it means the node is in serious danger?"

The Unknown Gods in the room exchanged glances. No hesitation. No discussion.

Then, in eerie unison, they all answered, "One hundred percent."

I exhaled slowly. Well. Shit.

"If you all agree that it's a guaranteed threat," I said, my mind already jumping five steps ahead, "then that means the ruins most likely house one of the leyline nodes of the Lost Realm. And if my instincts are right… the guardian is still alive. Still fighting to contain whatever broke through."

Heim's scowl deepened. "Then what the hell are we standing around for? We should be there right now restoring the node."

I held up a hand before he could start marching out like some lone action hero. "We need to be prepared, Heim. We can't just charge in blind."

He crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Then what's the plan?"