"[Activating 'Otherworldly Kitchen' Lvl 1!]"
The crystalline air of the forge rippled as I manifested a set of professional-grade culinary tools. I moved with practiced fluidity, reaching for a cluster of pure-mana-rich ice shards jutting from the floor. With careful precision, I began shaving the translucent crystals into a pile of fine, sparkling snow. The Mystic Beast opened one eye, letting out a low, vibrating growl of warning, but when he saw I wasn't drawing a weapon, he huffed a cloud of frost and closed his eyes again. Melchior sat cross-legged in the air, watching my every move with a look of bewildered fascination.
After a few minutes of intense preparation, I pulled a carton of fresh, plump strawberries from the 'System Shop'. The scent of the fruit was jarringly sweet in the sterile, frozen atmosphere. By the time I was finished, I had plated a mound of creamy, strawberry-infused shaved ice and a thick, perfectly seared premium monster steak, seasoned with herbs that cost more than most low-rank weapons.
I caught Melchior staring at the steak, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. I chuckled and infused a bit of extra mana into his manifestation. "Go on, Melchior. Consider it a reward for not getting us killed." He didn't need a second invitation; he dove into his portion with an elegance that didn't quite hide his hunger.
Now came the delicate part.
"[Activating 'Ice Element' Lvl 2!]"
"[Activating 'Shallow Breathing' Lvl 1!]"
I masked my presence, cooling my own body temperature and softening my mana signature until I was little more than a whisper in the wind. I approached the sleeping Beast slowly, making my movements as non-threatening as possible. I placed the oversized bowl of strawberry ice cream and the steaming steak right under his snout.
When you hibernate for centuries, hunger is an inevitability. Even a creature as profoundly lazy as this beast, one who would genuinely prefer to starve than interrupt a good nap, couldn't ignore the siren call of premium fat and refined sugar. His sensitive nose twitched. One nostril flared, then the other.
His eyes snapped open. He didn't growl. He simply looked at the meal, then at me, and began to eat with a ferocity that shook the floor. As he feasted, I reached out and gently stroked his thick, white-blue fur. I wasn't doing it for the system; I was doing it because I genuinely missed this stubborn, fluffy bastard.
"[Congratulations! You have successfully fulfilled the Copy Condition!]"
"[Congratulations! You have successfully copied the ???-Rank Skill: 'Ice Breath'!]"
"[Notice: Due to insufficient Level and Mana, the Skill has been adjusted to B-Rank.]"
My mana was still the bottleneck, but a B-Rank elemental breath was a massive upgrade to my offensive repertoire.
"[Activating 'Brand of Tribulation' Lvl 1!]"
The beast let out a long, rumbling purr of satisfaction, turning his head to lick my hand. He seemed to love the taste of my mana as much as the food. I leaned in, my voice soft. "Hey, you like it here? Or would you like to be part of my family and see the rest of the world?"
The beast looked at me, his deep blue eyes reflecting a sudden spark of intelligence. He let out a soft, affirmative trill, baring his neck in a gesture of trust.
"[Notice: Consent has been received! The 'Stigma' is now engraved into the soul of the Mystic Beast!]"
"[Notice: As the Master, you may give a name to the Mystic Beast.]"
I scrubbed the fur behind his ears, and he leaned into my touch, acting more like an oversized house cat than a legendary monster. "I'll give you the name I've always given you, just like old times," I whispered. "Your name is Cero."
"[Congratulations! The name 'Cero' has been engraved into the soul of the Mystic Beast!]"
"[Amazing Feat! You are the first to obtain and name a Mystic Beast in the 'Tower of Trials'!]"
"[Notice: +5,000 Coins have been awarded!]"
Cero purred once more, his massive form beginning to shimmer and shrink. Originally the size of a large wolf with six powerful limbs and a sprawling furry tail, he condensed until he assumed the form of a small, fluffy white-blue cat. He trotted over to my feet, curled into a ball, and immediately went back to sleep.
I looked at the sleeping kitten, then at the half-eaten steak. My party was growing: a pint-sized Vampire Patriarch and a lazy Mystic Beast cat. If the 2nd Floor wanted to be a "Frozen Hell," it was going to have to try a lot harder than this.