The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 101: Order

The Snow Plains Wolf King scanned the horizon. Although Little Green Mountain was currently a construction site—piles of lumber and freshly turned earth making it look a bit disorganized—the giant wolf sensed a terrifying power lurking beneath the surface.

It was the power of Order.

In the demon world, order was both familiar and alien. Whether it was the Great Holy Halls or the various tribal territories, rule was built upon a foundation of blood and fear. But the order here felt different.

Looking at the thousands of rats skittering about, Little Wolf noticed something unsettling: none of them possessed the feral bloodlust typical of wild beasts. Instead, their gazes were disarmingly vacant and clear, their auras peaceful. They were well-fed, robust, and utterly tranquil. It was as if they hadn’t a single care in the world.

Little Wolf’s heart filled with confusion. He couldn’t fathom how such a swarm survived in a world governed by the law that the weak are prey to the strong.

Beside him, the Winged Tiger nudged the stunned wolf and offered a snarky grin. “Shocking, isn’t it? Usually, you only see this kind of aesthetic harmony in human cities. Why do you think we’re always raiding them? To steal their resources and their systems! But our Great King has built it all right here. Now, we don’t have to worry about logistics—we just cultivate and kill.”

The Wolf King murmured, his eyes reflecting a trace of bewilderment. “No bottom-tier demon beast in any pack I’ve seen is this… spiritually abundant. At this rate, we shouldn’t call them rats. They’re ‘Mouse-Humans.'”

Wu Yuan, listening from the Pangolin’s back, felt a spark of inspiration. If I can secure a Grotto-Heaven and let them thrive like this, I might truly forge a new race.

He had spent months meticulously screening these rats. From his perspective, he was a Benevolent Dictator, managing his “staff” with a CEO’s precision. He categorized every rat based on physical stats, temperament, and bloodline potential.

The strong and vicious were funneled into the frontline assault teams. The strong but timid were assigned to heavy labor, like mining and hauling. Then, there were the specialists.

Wu Yuan had grouped the agriculturally inclined rats together, allowing them to live and breed in dedicated zones. Over generations, their techniques improved, and they passed their secrets to their young. Eventually, their very bloodlines began to shift toward their vocation.

Under Wu Yuan’s “kind” guidance, the Spirit-Gathering Mouse tribe’s adaptability was pushed to its limit. Now, there were specialized swarms for every need:

The Lunar Essence Gatherers: Rats that had Awakened specific techniques to pull down Lunar Essence at night, standing in the fields to ensure the Spirit Grass grew lush and potent.

The Charcoal Masters: In the crevices of the bamboo forests, a specific clan of rats lived among the heat. They had grown thick, heat-resistant fur and calloused paws, allowing them to handle burning Spirit Charcoal directly to judge its quality with expert precision.

Aside from his own cultivation, these specialized castes were Wu Yuan’s proudest achievement. They were his industrial engine. Even if his combat troops were wiped out, he could rebuild in weeks. These new “recruits” would even inherit the combat experience of their predecessors through bloodline memory.

Reproduction plus social engineering equaled infinite Potential. This was why the Azure Radiance Grotto-Heaven had chosen him. He wasn’t just a powerful rat; he was a civilization in the making.

As Wu Yuan led the procession along the newly paved roads, the common rats didn’t scatter in fear of the giant predators. They simply looked up with curious, lively eyes. But when they caught the scent of their King, the mountain erupted.

“Zhi! Zhi-zhi!”

The squeaks started low and then swelled into a deafening, rhythmic roar of adoration. From his perch on the Pangolin, Wu Yuan raised a paw in a regal, cheerful greeting.

The response was a literal tidal wave of sound. The fervent cries of a million rats shook the very clouds, rolling across the valleys of Little Green Mountain. Even those too far to see him joined in, the atmosphere of fanatical joy infecting every living thing. Even the Spirit Bees vibrated their wings in a frantic, celebratory hum, and the Fire Ants hissed in rhythmic greeting.

After the parade, Little Wolf was whisked away by the Winged Tiger to the Bamboo Pool to begin his “ideological recovery.”

Wu Yuan returned to his treehouse, his mood buoyed by the display. The room was filled with the fresh, calming scent of the flora gathered by Little Yellow. It was time to analyze the loot.

He laid out the spoils from the Two-Clawed Soul-Confusing Pei. The center-piece was the Ancient Xun.

The instrument was an antique brown, carved from an exotic Spirit Earth. It was egg-shaped and fit perfectly in his paw, with six precision-drilled tone holes. Wu Yuan projected his demon sense into the artifact, ruthlessly scrubbing away the Pei’s lingering imprint.

He began to trace the Spirit Patterns etched into the clay.

Soul-Confusing. Heart-Bewildering. Soul Amplification.

The complexity of the flow was staggering. Wu Yuan felt a surge of genuine professional admiration. This wasn’t just a weapon; it was a masterpiece of psychic engineering.