The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 152: The Desperate Red Refined Fire Snake

If the Black Water Flood Dragon Snake caught up to him now, death was a certainty.

Riddled with wounds and with his Demon Power hovering near absolute zero, the Red Refined Fire Snake knew he had no cards left to play. Escape would be impossible.

He forced his battered body forward, senses strained to the breaking point as he scanned the murky waters for any sign of pursuit. Each second stretched into an eternity of paranoia.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, his taut nerves began to uncoil. He let out a long, trembling breath, bubbles escaping his jaws.

“He… he didn’t follow.”

But before the relief could fully settle, a wave of heart-wrenching agony crashed over him.

He glanced down at his coils. His scales were shattered, his flesh riddled with countless tiny punctures as if he had been rolled through a bed of needles. Worse, the wounds sizzled and popped. Residual lightning qi from the Black Water Flood Dragon Snake clung to the raw meat, gnawing at him like microscopic parasites and preventing the wounds from closing.

The pain was maddening.

The cruelest irony was the “trump card” he carried—a treasure from a Great Demon capable of obliterating obstacles or fleeing impossible odds—possessed absolutely no healing properties. He was holding a loaded gun while bleeding to death.

There was no quick fix. Unless…

His eyes flickered toward his pouch. He could eat a Sinking Gold Carp.

No.

He crushed the thought instantly. He had invested everything in those fish. His entire hoard, his territory, his daily life-and-death struggles—it was all for them. Aside from the carp and his own miserable life, he had nothing left.

“I can’t go back to the carp’s hiding spot yet,” the Red Refined Fire Snake calculated, his mind racing. “Black Water is cunning. If he tracks my trail back to the nest, it’s over.”

“Those fish are my ticket to the next realm. No other demon knows where they are. I must protect them at all costs.”

Panting heavily, he double-checked the surroundings. Once he was certain the waters were empty, he reached into his storage bag with a trembling tail and withdrew a glowing stalk of green vegetation—the [Spirit Increasing Grass].

“Damn that Black Water snake… camping a resource point just to ambush me!”

It was precisely this herb that had nearly cost him his life. He had spotted it, reached for it, and the trap had sprung.

The Spirit Increasing Grass pulsed with a soft light, emitting a rich, heady aroma of pure spiritual qi. It was a waste to use it like this—it was meant for cultivation breakthroughs, not emergency first aid—but he had no choice.

He stuffed the herb into his mouth and chewed savagely.

As the juices flowed down his throat, they transformed into a powerful, gentle stream of qi that flooded his meridians. It was a temporary patch, stabilizing his core, but the external wounds continued to sizzle with lightning burns.

The Red Refined Fire Snake grimaced, cursing internally.

“It’s not enough. This is for cultivation, not regeneration. I need healing herbs.”

“And the Sinking Gold Carp… they still need feeding.”

Determination warred with exhaustion in his eyes. “I hope the next resource point hasn’t been stripped by Black Water yet.”

With a flick of his tail, he submerged deeper, swimming strenuously toward the next cache. Even with his body screaming in protest, the grind could not stop.

“Red Refined! Where are you?”

“I brought the goods!”

The Winged Tiger circled a secluded patch of water, his face a mask of anxious concern. He shouted into the depths, his wings creating rhythmic ripples on the surface.

This was their pre-arranged drop point.

Hidden in the gloom below, the Red Refined Fire Snake watched. He scanned the perimeter for traps, his paranoia itching under his scales. Only after several minutes of silence did he slowly rise to the surface.

He glared at the tiger, his voice tight. “Winged Tiger. Where are the things?”

The Winged Tiger opened his mouth to speak, but paused. His sharp eyes instantly dissected the snake’s condition.

On the surface, Red Refined looked imposing, but his aura betrayed a hollow fragility. His breathing was shallow, and the scent of burnt blood hung heavy in the air.

The Winged Tiger’s eyes darted sideways. A new plan formed instantly.

The Great King was right. This snake is at the end of his rope. Time to adjust the script.

The Winged Tiger landed heavily on the water’s surface, his shoulders slumping in a performance of utter helplessness. He slapped his thigh and let out a long, mournful sigh.

“Brother Red Refined, you have no idea!”

“Since you went underground, those beavers—especially that old one, Bibo—they don’t respect me at all! They smile to my face and stab me in the back. The resource allocation has been slashed. They’re holding out on us!”

“I squeezed them, but I couldn’t get the full amount. I came here just to warn you.”

The Red Refined Fire Snake’s chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps of fury.

“Are you trying to fool a hatchling?!” he roared, water spraying from his jaws. “Do you take me for a fool?!”

He glared at the Winged Tiger, whose expression remained an ambiguous mix of apology and smirk. The snake forced down the urge to strike, knowing he couldn’t afford a fight, but his eyes burned with malice.

“What exactly is your game?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I will not accept a reduction. I traded mountains of resources with you! I gave you intelligence! I fed your market with demons! My share cannot be one grain less!”

Demon power surged around him, a desperate flare of intimidation. He stared death at the tiger, ready to snap at the slightest refusal.

He knew he was bluffing. This was his only lifeline. If the Winged Tiger cut him off, the Sinking Gold Carp would starve, his injuries would fester, and Black Water would eventually skin him alive.

The Winged Tiger watched the posturing snake, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“Actually… there is another way,” the tiger purred.

“If we pull this off, we’ll never lack resources again. And you… you could get a massive injection of supplies immediately.”

The Red Refined Fire Snake’s pupils contracted to slits. “What method?” he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. “Don’t try any tricks.”

The Winged Tiger cleared his throat, adopting the persona of a serious strategist.

“Think about it. The root of the problem is that beaver, Bibo. He’s harboring rebellious thoughts.”

“And why is he rebellious? Because he sees you and Black Water tearing each other apart. He thinks the chaos is a ladder. He thinks he can skim off the top while the giants fight.”

“Otherwise, how would that old rodent dare to resist me? I picked him because he looked easy to control. I didn’t expect him to grow a spine the moment I looked away.”

As the Winged Tiger spoke, a strange phenomenon occurred. A faint, almost imperceptible sound—like the low, earthen hum of a clay Xun—began to drift from his fur. It spiraled through the air, sliding unnoticed into the Red Refined Fire Snake’s ear canals.

The snake didn’t react. He didn’t even blink.

Seeing the snake fall into a thoughtful stupor, the Winged Tiger pressed his advantage.

“Why don’t we simply kill him?”

“We take over the market directly. We use the stronghold as a fortress to resist the Black Water Flood Dragon Snake. Once we own the supply chain, the resources are ours to take.”

The Red Refined Fire Snake’s heart skipped a beat. The proposal was dangerous, but the allure of unlimited resources made his greed flare.

However, fear still held the reins.

“How do we kill the beaver?” he asked cautiously. “Just the two of us? Storming that water stronghold won’t be easy. That place is a fortress, and he has an army of rats.”

The Winged Tiger saw the hesitation and suppressed a grin. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Spit it out!” the snake snapped, his patience fraying. “Stop stalling!”

The Winged Tiger pretended to hesitate, then leaned in.

“We lure him out. We set up a meeting under the pretense of ‘renegotiating the profit split.'”

“Once he’s in the open… we strike. Together.”

The Red Refined Fire Snake sneered, curling his lip in disdain.

“Even I wouldn’t believe that excuse. That beaver isn’t brain-dead. Why would he walk into such an obvious trap?”