The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 122: The Cat King

In the corner of the grand palace, a massive, obese rat demon lay sprawled across a reclining chair. He eyes were closed, a porcelain cup of tea balanced delicately in his paw.

“I have to say, these human concoctions are truly delightful!” he chirped, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Did you hear? The Green Roc Great Demon’s son died inside! Terrible business.”

He took a loud slurp. “Ah, right! Rabbit, I heard your son and daughter also sneaked into the Azure Spirit Mountain Range. What’s the situation? I told you long ago it wasn’t safe!”

He waved a paw dismissively. “Look at me. I only sent my subordinates in a while ago. They’re natives, so I don’t care if they die! But if they survive… heh, with just a bit of contribution, I’ll be satisfied carving out a nice little territory for myself later!”

The Fat Rat chattered on, spilling his plans and observations to his neighbors. However, he received no response from his fair-weather friends.

Puzzled, he opened one beady eye and glanced at the chairs beside him.

Empty.

The corner, which had been packed with tea-drinking gossipers just moments ago, was now desolate. The fringe demons had vanished like smoke.

He scratched his head and looked up. His heart stopped.

Towering above him, the ferocious Great Demons of the council were staring fixedly at his corner. Their gazes were heavy enough to crush bone.

“Great demons hundreds of meters tall… staring at a little mouse who’s just here to pass the time…” The Fat Rat’s teeth began to chatter. “Scared the mouse out of me!”

His mind raced, replaying every action he had taken in the last month. I haven’t offended them! No, wait—I don’t even have the qualifications to offend them!

The Green Roc Great Demon stepped forward. His shadow engulfed the Fat Rat. He lowered his massive head, his eyes burning with ruthless scrutiny as he examined the trembling creature that was barely the size of one of his talons.

“Is this white rat your subordinate?”

The Fat Rat was so terrified that the flesh on his body rippled like water in a gale.

“N-no! I’ve never seen it before! I swear!”

The Green Roc looked at the mound of quivering blubber with undisguised disgust. “Repulsive. How does a rat like this survive in the cultivation world?”

He turned away, dismissing the Fat Rat as beneath his notice, and addressed the circle of Great Demons.

“It seems to be a wild demon that somehow slipped in,” the Green Roc stated, his voice smooth and dangerous. “How about I go in and clean it up? You all don’t want the Grand Plan to be affected by a rogue variable, do you?”

The proposal hung in the air, tempting the gathered heavyweights. “This Spiritual Qi barren zone is difficult to breach… the Green Roc has the experience…” one muttered.

But the Green Flood Dragon, the Red Tiger, and the Rabbit Great Demon—who had seemingly teleported to stand at the Red Tiger’s feet—stepped forward. They formed a wall, staring down the Green Roc. It was clear they had no intention of letting him rampage unchecked.

The Fat Rat, seeing the Rabbit Demon standing safely behind the Tiger, hesitated. Then, scuttling low to the ground, he scurried over to join them, muttering to himself.

“Although I don’t know that white rat… it is still a rat, after all. Maybe it’s a distant relative? I seem to have heard Rat Elder say the scout he sent earlier had a leader… could it be this one?”

The Green Roc Great Demon looked at the coalition blocking his path. His expression twisted into a sneer of arrogant unrestraint, a look that perfectly mirrored his late son, the Peng Bird. Or perhaps, the son had merely been a pale imitation of the father.

“You think you can stop me with just this?”

The atmosphere in the palace snapped taut. Yet, despite the killing intent, no demon dared to strike first.

“That white rat is my subordinate. Is that not allowed?”

The voice was high, crisp, and dripped with entitlement.

The Green Roc whipped his head around. A small, black-and-white cat demon had jumped down from the high platform and was sauntering toward them.

The Green Roc narrowed his eyes. “What demon are you? I haven’t seen you before.”

“You can call me Cat King.”

The Green Roc let out a disdainful huff. To his senses, this cat’s aura was weak—pitifully so. If I didn’t know you had some relationship with the Palace Master, he thought, you would be dead for speaking to me with that tone.

“Since you dare to provoke me,” the Green Roc hissed, “giving an ignorant cat a little lesson shouldn’t be a problem.”

Ideally, he wouldn’t act under the nose of a Golden Core Demon Lord, but the Green Roc was accustomed to getting his way. A wisp of demon power coalesced around his talons, forming an invisible, razor-sharp wind blade.

However, the Cat King didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He simply opened his mouth and dropped a name that froze the air in the hall.

“My great-great-grandmother is Lady Three Flowers.”

Silence descended. Absolute, suffocating silence.

The Cat King puffed out his small chest, holding his chin high. “The very Lady Three Flowers who broke through to the Nascent Soul realm not long ago. The one who used Emperor Fluid to offer blessings back to Heaven and Earth.”

He took a step toward the massive bird. “Do I have the qualification to send in a subordinate? Little bird, look into my eyes and answer me!”

The dynamic in the room shifted instantly.

The Red Tiger leaped forward, practically tripping over himself to point an accusing finger at the Green Roc’s beak.

“How dare you speak to the Cat King like that?!” the Tiger roared, his voice righteous and scandalized. “What was that expression just now? Were you preparing to attack?!”

He spun around to face the Cat King, his face transforming into a mask of fawning adoration. “Esteemed Cat King, do you need us to apprehend this insolent bird? As a fellow feline—well, a tiger is practically a big cat—I cannot shirk this duty!”

The other Great Demons snapped out of their shock and hurriedly chimed in.

“That’s right! Unacceptable!”

“To disrespect the bloodline of a Nascent Soul!”

It was a simple calculation. In the past, Foundation Establishment demons like them would have been mere snacks for a creature of Lady Three Flowers’ lineage. To have a chance to speak with her descendant? To curry favor? This was a golden opportunity. If they didn’t cling to this thigh now, they were fools.

The Cat King looked at the Green Roc with petty malice. He remembered how the bird’s son had stirred up dust on the day of the Emperor Fluid, dirtying his fur. And now the father dared to threaten him?

He opened his mouth to order the bird’s arrest.

“Stop fooling around.”

The Palace Master’s voice rolled down from the high platform, weary and authoritative.

The Cat King clicked his tongue. He curled his lips in annoyance and dejectedly jumped back onto the platform.

“If it weren’t for Lady going into secluded cultivation after her breakthrough,” he muttered loud enough to be heard, “I would have gone home long ago. Why would I need to hide in this dump?”

The Palace Master’s voice echoed in the Cat King’s mind, private and stern. “Lady’s identity is special, and you are currently stuck in the demon realm. You cannot return yet. Try not to cause trouble or attract attention! Have you forgotten how you ended up wandering here in the first place?”

The Cat King ignored the scolding. He crawled back into his nest, pulled out a handful of Moon Spirit Grass, stuffed it into his mouth, and began to chew like a cow.

“That white rat really is my subordinate,” he mumbled through a mouthful of grass. “Keep an eye on it for me.”

The Palace Master sighed helplessly. “With your status, getting a share of the spoils here is no problem. Since you’ve claimed him, I will grant him the qualification. But… with so many high-grade spirit fruits available, why are you still eating that weed?”

The Cat King swayed his head back and forth as he chewed the Moon Spirit Grass. “You don’t understand. It’s an acquired taste.”

The Palace Master reached out, grabbed the small cat, and rubbed his head vigorously. “You little rascal, acting all profound now!”

“Let me go! Your smell is too pungent!” The Cat King struggled desperately, fur puffed up like a dandelion.

This interaction on the high platform was shielded by spirit veils, leaving the demons below completely unaware of the playful dynamic.

They only saw the outcome. They looked at the unsettled Green Roc Great Demon with thinly veiled smirks. This bird had been strutting around, relying on his proximity to the Golden Core realm to bully others. Now, he had kicked an iron plate.

“Everything proceeds as before,” the Palace Master announced to the hall.

The Green Roc Great Demon let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He bowed stiffly to the Palace Master and hurriedly exited the palace, his aura significantly diminished.

As the meeting dispersed, the Red Tiger shrank his body down to a more manageable size. He threw his arms around the shoulders of the Rabbit Demon and the Fat Rat Demon, guiding them out like old drinking buddies.

“I never thought our little ones would actually mix together!” the Red Tiger whispered, his voice thick with conspiracy. “You thieving rabbit, you’ve always had sharp spiritual senses—your son shouldn’t be bad either! And you, my rotund friend… what do you think this white rat’s origins really are?”

The Green Flood Dragon watched the trio walk away, arms linked. He hesitated, his slit pupils narrowing. He did not follow. Instead, he turned and left the palace alone, his mind churning.

That beaver… Bibo… he is suspicious. I need to go back and investigate the records.