The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 103: The Heavenly Sound Clan

The legacy of the Heavenly Sound Clan was once a prize lusted after by the Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox clan. Their rivalry eventually ignited the “Charm Calamity,” one of the ten Great Ancient Calamities. It was a war of subversion; the two clans bewitched, infiltrated, and seduced one another until the ripples of their conflict tore through the fabric of the entire cultivation world.

The Heavenly Sound Clan had always looked down upon the Celestial Foxes, branding them as dissolute, base, and beneath their own “high-minded” purity. Yet, in the end, the Heavenly Sound Clan simply couldn’t compete with the Foxes’ lack of inhibition. Cultivators, after all, were pragmatists—they knew which clan provided a more “pleasurable” experience.

The Heavenly Sound Clan was annihilated, their pride shattered, and their secret legacies leaked to the four winds. Today, almost every musical sect in existence bears the faint, lingering traces of their lost arts.

As for the victors, the Nine-Tailed Celestial Foxes found themselves without a rival. They immediately turned aloof, kicking aside the very “helpers” who had secured their win. Had they not been so utterly drained by the war, the Foxes likely would have slaughtered everyone who possessed knowledge of their less-than-savory history.

But that was ancient history.

In the present, Wu Yuan’s Ancient Xun didn’t contain a full legacy. However, a powerful figure had once wielded the instrument, leaving behind a spiritual residue that Wu Yuan had awakened with his talent. It was an incomplete echo, but a valuable one. It provided him with raw insights he could use as a blueprint for his own growth.

“This is likely the core of the Fated Chance the intelligence mentioned,” Wu Yuan mused.

The Ancient Xun filled a glaring void in his arsenal, allowing him to weaponize his massive demonic sense. He skillfully retracted the artifact into his body, allowing his Demon Power to begin the slow process of spiritual nourishment.

Next, Wu Yuan turned his attention to the Two-Clawed Soul-Confusing Pei’s storage bag. Unlike the one he’d taken from the Goat Demon, this bag was protected by a stubborn, invisible barrier.

It was a minor inconvenience. Wu Yuan focused his mind, pouring out his demonic sense like a relentless tide. After the time it took for a single stick of incense to burn, he felt a “pop” as the mental membrane buckled. The internal space of the bag unfolded before him.

His eyes widened with a flash of genuine surprise. He reached into the void and pulled out a palm-sized flower. Its petals were as black as a moonless night, and the stamen at its center was twisted into the haunting shape of a tiny wolf’s face.

“A middle-grade Soul Nourishing Flower!”

Wu Yuan took a sharp, appreciative breath. This was an exceptionally rare find, capable of expanding a demon’s total mental capacity. For beasts born with naturally low intelligence or weak spirits, it was a priceless treasure.

But then, his gaze fell on the mangled stem. His expression soured into a mask of professional fury. “Wasteful, incompetent wretch! Killing you once was far too kind!”

He could almost see the Pei roughly snapping the flower from the earth, showing zero regard for the delicate root system.

“Even the Goat Demon knew how to harvest a plant properly,” Wu Yuan hissed. “If you were still alive, I’d teach you the meaning of ten thousand deaths.”

He couldn’t afford to waste a second. Wu Yuan activated his Spirit Gathering talent, condensing a single, shimmering drop of golden Creation Force. He let the drop fall onto the flower’s jagged wound, his eyes locked on the dark petals.

To his relief, the wilted leaves began to perk up.

“Thank the heavens there was still a spark of life left,” he muttered. “My talent didn’t fail me.”

Wu Yuan’s Creation Force was becoming his most versatile tool. Whether healing himself after a grueling session of researching Bloodline Spirit Runes or repairing the self-inflicted injuries from his “rodent-body” experiments, it was a literal lifesaver. He usually saved a portion for the Blood-Binding Spirit Mulberry to bolster its core essence.

He had once tried to give a drop to Little Yellow, but the hamster had just made a face. “It doesn’t taste like anything, Boss. I’d rather have Moon Spirit Grass,” the brat had said. Wu Yuan had kicked him across the room for that, cursing his lack of appreciation.

Wu Yuan tucked the healing flower into a Purple Jade box to stabilize. Once it was fully recovered, he’d hand it over to Little Yellow for proper cultivation.

He rummaged through the rest of the bag, but found only a handful of Spirit Stones and common herbs. He tossed the bag aside with a look of disdain. “Is that it? The Goat Demon was a pauper compared to me, but even he had a better stash.”

In reality, the quality of the Pei’s loot was vastly superior, but the Goat Demon had been Wu Yuan’s first “Big Boss” fight, and the trauma of that encounter had left him with a skewed baseline for comparison.

Finally, he picked up the wolf-skull artifact. It was a low-grade piece, slightly inferior to his Stone Wood Horn Arrows, and it bore a small dent from where his Gu Duo had slammed into it.

Wu Yuan rapped his claws against the table. The sound echoed through the treehouse.

Whoosh! Little Yellow burst through the door like a golden blur, bringing a gust of wind with him. “Boss! You called?!”

His enthusiasm was his undoing. He moved so fast that his paws caught the wooden threshold. He lost his balance instantly, tumbling across the floor in a flurry of fur until he rolled to a stop at Wu Yuan’s feet.

Wu Yuan picked up the dazed hamster by the scruff of his neck. “How old are you? You’re a middle-stage cultivator, yet you still trip over a piece of wood.”

Little Yellow squeaked, covering his face with his tiny paws. “Aiya, Boss! Don’t be like that!” He peeked through his fingers, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Wu Yuan set him on the table and pushed the wolf-skull toward him. “Take this. Use it. I don’t want to hear about you getting bullied by hummingbirds or wandering into trouble without a shield.”

He remembered the “hummingbird incident” and the cold sweat it had given him. With the Azure Spirit Mountain Range now teeming with dangerous outsiders, Little Yellow needed more than just luck. Wu Yuan could tank a hit with his own body, but the hamster was far more fragile.

Little Yellow’s eyes lit up. He scrambled to put the skull on his head. It was a perfect fit, sliding over his ears as if it had been custom-made for a hamster’s skull.

He reached for his Wood Calling Spirit Horn and struck a pose, looking like a tiny, armored terror.

“Boss! Look at me!” Little Yellow chirped, puffing out his chest. “Do I look like a fierce wild demon chieftain now?!”