The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 119: Array Artifact

After finishing the cultivation of his large intestine, Wu Yuan finally let out a long sigh of relief.

He reclined on a lounge chair carved from Purple Jade Bamboo, his body sinking into the cool, smooth surface. The air inside the treehouse was thick with Spiritual Qi and Lunar Essence, drifting like lazy smoke. Occasionally, a wisp would playfully sneak into his nose, only to be exhaled in a puff of white mist.

Suddenly, a parched dryness scratched at his throat.

“I want honey water!” he shouted toward the entrance, his voice raspy.

Before his words even faded, a small figure darted in. It was a young mouse demon, small in stature but quick as lightning. Balancing a delicate wooden tray on its shoulder, it steadied a cup carved from Purple Jade Bamboo and presented it to Wu Yuan.

Wu Yuan took the cup and lifted the lid.

Instantly, a clear, sweet aroma flooded the treehouse, washing over his senses like a cool breeze. The liquid inside was crystal clear, resembling mountain spring water, yet it glowed with a soft, purple-golden luminescence. The gentle radiation of Spiritual Qi marked it as no ordinary drink.

This was Morning Dew Spirit Water, a First-Grade Middle-Grade spiritual liquid.

Every morning, the Spirit Mulberry Tree gathered the purple Qi of the dawn on its leaves, fusing it with the morning dew. The resulting water was a tonic for the soul—it refreshed the mind, aided the growth of Divine Sense, and harmonized the balance between Blood Qi and Demon Power.

Its only flaw was its volatility; it evaporated within moments of harvest.

However, Little Yellow had accidentally discovered that adding a drop of Spirit Bee Honey stabilized the liquid, extending its shelf life to a full day.

“One day is enough,” Wu Yuan had said, satisfied. “That means I can drink it fresh every morning.”

The labor behind this luxury was substantial. The Blood Jade Spirit Silkworms living on the tree had grown fat and lazy, spending their days eating, sleeping, and sunbathing. During his last inspection, Wu Yuan had shaken his head in disgust at their sloth.

“I toil every day for our future, yet you lot live like pigs! When will my great ambition be realized with such laziness?”

He immediately issued a decree: the Silkworms were to wake before dawn to collect the dew. Afterward, they were to spend the day vigorously spinning silk. Though Wu Yuan had no immediate use for the silk, he hoarded it.

“What if I need to refine a banner or a robe later?” he reasoned. “Better to have it and not need it.”

Wu Yuan brought the bamboo cup to his lips. The purple glow of the liquid danced against the walls of the cup, sparkling with golden specks like a captured sunrise.

He drank it in one gulp.

A wave of cool, clarifying energy washed through him, penetrating straight to his heart. The lingering phantom burn in his large intestine faded instantly. His mind sharpened, and the insights from his recent cultivation sessions crystallized into new understanding.

“Whew!”

Wu Yuan exhaled, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Comfortable.”

His breathing deepened, growing rhythmic and powerful. He felt stronger with every breath.

“A life where I get stronger every single day…” he mused, nodding to himself. “I wouldn’t trade this for immortality.”

Humming a little tune, he walked over to his nest, burrowed into the dense patch of Moon Spirit Grass, and fell into a deep, restorative sleep.

Three days later.

Wu Yuan woke up and let out a yawn that cracked his jaw.

GURGLE. ROAR.

His stomach rumbled with the force of actual thunder, shaking the grass around him. Without missing a beat, he grabbed a handful of Geng Gold pellets, popped them into his mouth like peanuts, and expertly circulated his Qi to digest them.

Daily cultivation complete.

Now for the main event.

Wu Yuan pulled the remains of the Peng Bird from his Storage Bag.

The skeleton was massive—a full five zhang wide—and perfectly preserved. The jade-white bones were etched with natural cyan spirit patterns that seemed to hum with the sound of wind.

Next, he laid out the feathers: one hundred and eight cyan plumes.

Ninety of them were one meter long, rating as First-Grade Low-Grade Magical Artifacts. The remaining eighteen were magnificent specimens, fully two meters in length and shimmering with a metallic sheen. These were First-Grade Middle-Grade Wind Feathers, intricately inscribed with spirit patterns.

Wu Yuan examined one of the larger feathers closely.

“It’s infused with Wind Spirit Iron,” he noted, impressed. “Metallic hardness, but only half the weight of Spirit Copper. Sharp, tough, and amplifies Demon Power for flight. A brilliant design.”

“Truly a wealthy bird family. The heritage behind this is powerful.”

More importantly, each of the eighteen main feathers functioned as a small formation flag. The patterns inside resonated with each other, forming a complex, interlocking network. Even the ninety smaller feathers acted as conduits, linking the system together.

Combined, these one hundred and eight artifacts formed a mobile First-Grade Middle-Grade Formation.

“The Nine Heavens Mystic Spirit Formation Explanation mentioned something called an ‘Array Artifact’,” Wu Yuan murmured, his eyes gleaming. “This must be it. Rare. Even the manual barely touched on it.”

An Array Artifact was the fusion of artifact crafting and formation theory—engraving a formation across multiple objects to create a weapon that was stable, powerful, and mobile.

“But…” Wu Yuan frowned, tapping a claw against a feather. “Even if the burden is distributed, controlling over a hundred artifacts simultaneously requires immense Divine Sense. That bird was only at the mid-stage of Qi Condensation. How did he do it?”

“Did he have a secret technique?”

Wu Yuan leaned in closer, scrutinizing the microscopic spirit patterns hidden within the formation structure.

“Wait. These patterns…”

He recognized the components.

“Mind Link. Joint Decision. Swift Wind. Light Body. Spirit Binding.”

Wu Yuan slapped his forehead and laughed.

“I knew it! He took a shortcut!”

“These are all auxiliary patterns. There isn’t a single offensive rune in the entire set. They consume minimal Demon Power and Divine Sense. Coupled with the fact that these were his Life-Bound Artifacts, he could barely control them.”

“But the trade-off is massive,” Wu Yuan realized. “Once he deployed the formation, he lost control. It was a fire-and-forget weapon. He couldn’t adjust it mid-battle; he could only retrieve it after the fight was over.”