The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 121: The Council of Great Demons

In an uncharted region beyond the Azure Spirit Mountain Range, a solitary, craggy peak pierced the heavens.

Fierce gales ravaged its summit year-round, whipping sand and stone into a perpetual, chaotic frenzy. It was a landscape that embodied the wildest, most untamed aspects of the cultivation world. Yet, amidst this howling turbulence, a terrifying presence suddenly awoke.

Two enormous lanterns ignited beneath the gloomy sky, burning like twin suns against the darkness. They were not flames, but eyes—sharp, lightning-bright, and brimming with ominous intent.

With a roar that shattered the wind, the Great Demon unfurled its wings.

A single beat tore through the gale, casting a shadow so vast it seemed to blot out the sun itself, plunging the entire peak into twilight. This was the Green Roc Great Demon. His form was so colossal that his slightest movement sent tremors through the bedrock.

Moments ago, he had sensed the snuffing out of a bloodline—his offspring had perished within the Azure Spirit Mountain Range.

Truth be told, the Green Roc Great Demon cared little for that incompetent son. However, in the world of demons, blood demanded blood, and more importantly, this “tragedy” provided the perfect pretext to trample the treaties and set foot in the Azure Spirit Mountain Range once more.

With a thought, the Green Roc transformed into a streak of emerald light, diving toward a seemingly ordinary mountain ridge. To mortal eyes, it was barren rock; to the Green Roc, it concealed a magnificent palace of gold and jade.

He did not slow down. He barreled toward the mountain face like a falling star.

Just as collision seemed inevitable, the air warped. An invisible force rippled like water, swallowing the massive demon. The Green Roc vanished, instantly reappearing inside the palace.

Here, space defied logic. A technique of “mustard seed encompassing Sumeru” had folded a vast, boundless dimension inside the mountain’s narrow shell.

The Green Roc Great Demon halted. He reined in the wild arrogance on his face, smoothing his expression into one of somber respect as he strode deeper into the hall.

At the far end, upon a high platform veiled by drifting spiritual gauze, a languid voice drifted down.

“Green Roc. You have always loathed cramped cages. What brings you to my humble abode today?”

The Green Roc bowed slightly, his voice deep and vibrating with suppressed power. “Palace Master. My offspring has fallen within the Azure Spirit Mountain Range. I seek permission to investigate.”

The voice from the platform remained indifferent. “As you wish. Provided, of course, you can persuade the other clans. I have already summoned them.”

The Green Roc’s expression did not flicker, though he grumbled inwardly. If I could persuade those old fogies myself, would I be kneeling here asking you?

Outwardly, however, he remained the picture of deference. This was, after all, a Golden Core Demon Lord.

Before long, a clamor of voices echoed from the entrance. The other Great Demons had arrived.

Seeing the assembly complete, the Palace Master spoke, his tone bored. “Green Roc claims his son died inside. He wants to enter.”

The first to object was a massive flood dragon, his body armored in verdant scales. The Green Flood Dragon fixed his reptilian gaze on the Green Roc, his rough voice booming through the hall.

“Green Roc, you wish to breach the Azure Spirit Mountain Range again? That seems… inappropriate.” The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “Did we not agree that you would enter only once? And did we not agree that the fates of our subordinates are their own to manage? I never took you for a sentimental father.”

The Green Roc snorted, his face darkening. “The East Sea Dragon Palace has always opposed me. I snacked on a few of your little flood dragons years ago—is it worth holding a grudge for centuries?”

“Precisely,” a hoarse voice croaked.

A goat demon with grizzled, matted fur slowly opened its drowsy eyes. “My own subordinates died inside years ago. You didn’t see me making a fuss.”

“That was my son!” Green Roc snapped. “Can a mere subordinate compare? You haven’t lost a son, old goat!”

The atmosphere in the hall tightened, the air crackling with pressure. Sensing the impending violence, a red-furred Winged Tiger squeezed between them, chuckling smoothly.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” the Winged Tiger soothed, acting the part of the mediator. “Before we start tearing throats out, why don’t we see what actually happened? Let us identify the killer so we can be… mentally prepared.”

The tension broke slightly. The gathered Great Demons nodded.

“Red Tiger speaks sense,” one grunted.

“Excellent,” the Palace Master said from behind the veil. “It has been some time since we checked the state of the Azure Spirit Mountain Range. We shall take this opportunity to observe. However… the cost of the temporal reversal shall be borne by Green Roc.”

The Green Roc had already steeled himself for this extortion. He nodded without hesitation.

Immediately, ripples of spiritual energy washed over the palace ceiling, projecting a vivid, bird’s-eye view of the mountain range. The Great Demons extended their senses, scanning the projection for their own kin.

“Hah! As expected of the Beast Spirit Temple, look at all that territory!”

“Your East Sea Dragon Palace isn’t doing too badly, either.”

“You Wood Spirit Temple folks are certainly diligent gardeners.”

As the demons engaged in their passive-aggressive small talk, the Palace Master spoke again. “I will now reverse the flow of time.”

Spiritual light surged, and the image on the ceiling blurred, rewinding rapidly before snapping into focus. The scene showed a massive Peng Bird toying with a miserable Demon Vulture.

The demons watched in silence as the events unfolded.

Seeing the Peng Bird lose its reasoning and succumb to blind rage, the Green Roc’s expression grew black as thunder.

Although that boy was incompetent, he carried my blood, he thought, humiliated. To have his mind shattered by mere words… useless trash.

Suddenly, the Red Tiger stiffened. On the screen, a small, wingless tiger was spouting provocative nonsense, goading the Peng Bird.

Red Tiger blinked, then realized with a start. Isn’t that the good-for-nothing scoundrel from the third family? Why is he there?

Oh no, he thought, panic rising. I thought I was merely a spectator eating melons, but the show has come home to roost! If I had known, I never would have suggested reversing time!

Subtly, Red Tiger shifted his stance, blocking the Green Roc’s direct path to the exit, fearing the avian demon might charge into the mountain range in a fit of rage.

Simultaneously, the Green Flood Dragon’s eyes flickered as he spotted a familiar figure—Bibo.

That aura… Dragon Palace techniques, the Green Flood Dragon mused. I didn’t send him, but he carries our legacy. Right now, he is a demon of the East Sea!

Mirroring the Tiger, the Green Flood Dragon twisted his massive coil, forming a pincer formation with the Winged Tiger to box the Green Roc in.

But when the scene reached its climax—when the Peng Bird, in a fit of madness, committed suicide by slamming into the mountain—the atmosphere in the hall shifted from tense to farcical.

The Great Demons exchanged glances, their eyes dancing with amusement. They never missed a chance to kick a rival when he was down.

“Even if there was external influence…” one murmured loud enough to be heard. “For a demon to commit suicide? Shameful.”

“Truly,” another added. “You really are an unqualified father, Green Roc.”

Waves of mocking laughter rippled through the hall. The Green Roc swept his senses outward, trying to pinpoint the source, but the voices seemed to come from everywhere. His face turned the color of stagnant water.

Then, the scene shifted to the aftermath. Wu Yuan appeared.

The laughter died down. The demons’ expressions turned serious.

The Green Roc gave a gloomy, dangerous smile. “That little mouse is unusual. His foundation is solid—not inferior to the Golden Armor Lion. But… he doesn’t seem to be one of yours, does he?”

He swept his gaze around the room. “Is he from the Rat Clan?”

As one, the Great Demons turned their gazes toward a shadowy corner of the palace.

There, a tea table had been set up, surrounded by several reclining chairs. The most conspicuous occupant was a rat—if one could call it that. It was as tall as a man and so incredibly obese that its body fat spread out like a water balloon, completely obscuring the chair beneath it.