The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 173: The Pitiful State of Snake Valley

The two horned snake demons writhed in sheer relief. They secretly rejoiced; finally, they were spared from the endless, grueling cycle of mating and laying eggs. Although their species was inherently driven to breed, the Snake King’s recent draconian quotas had hollowed them out. Their cultivation had plummeted, and they had genuinely believed they were going to be bred to death.

“Do not think your mission is over! You must expand the horde with even greater fervor!”

The Snake King’s voice struck them like a thunderbolt, instantly shattering their brief moment of hope.

“Hurry up and leave! What are you standing there for?!” The Snake King impatiently whipped the two exhausted demons with his heavy tail.

Watching the male and female horned snakes slither away in a daze, the Snake King sneered coldly. You dared to challenge my authority just because you Awakened a trace of dragon blood, he thought with bitter resentment. I only spared you because you produced quality tribute. But this time, you will Perish in the wilderness.

He turned his gaze to the rest of the cowering snake demons. “Concentrate all resources!” he barked. “Speed up the breeding cycles! I want a new batch of demons cultivated immediately!”

Life in Snake Valley swiftly devolved into a mechanized hellscape.

Initially, when the Snake King demanded a massive population boom, the horde assumed their lazy ruler had finally decided to strengthen their faction. Instead, he became an absolute tyrant. He mandated non-stop breeding, brutally whipping any serpent that dared to rest. He systematically executed any newborn that displayed even a slight genetic flaw, claiming they lacked the Potential to justify the valley’s resources.

He battered and exiled the strongest warriors, driving the capable demons out of the valley until only the desperate remained.

Then, the true slaughter began.

“Poison Drawing Technique!” the Snake King roared, his eyes wide with manic ecstasy.

The fleshy crest atop his head pulsed, vomiting a dense, hyper-toxic cloud of dark green necrotic mist that blanketed the valley floor like a suffocating net.

Ordinary snakes with low resistance to his spiritual venom shrieked as their scales melted, dissolving into puddles of bubbling, acidic sludge. Plumes of toxic gas evaporated from the liquefied corpses, drawn back up and eagerly absorbed by the Snake King’s crest.

The Fleshy Crest Snake King was already infamous for his venom, but the Poison Drawing Technique graciously bestowed by Wu Yuan amplified his lethality exponentially.

In a matter of hours, Snake Valley was transformed into a wasteland. Trees withered into black ash, rocks dissolved, and rivers of green sludge flooded the basin. Half-melted gray bones and convulsing snake demons bobbed in the toxic soup. The entire valley fell deathly silent, save for the sizzling of acid.

The once-teeming horde was decimated. The survivors gasped for air within the poisonous fog; only true snake demons possessed the constitution to barely withstand it. For the ordinary snakes, the ultimatum was absolute: Awaken into a demon, or melt.

“The Poison Drawing Technique is a flawless match for my biology!” the Snake King cackled, high on the influx of lethal energy. “If I absorb enough of this necrotic biomass, my cultivation and innate talent will skyrocket!”

Driven by his crippling addiction to Wu Yuan’s Snake Spirit Blood and his lust for power, the Snake King squeezed the valley dry without a shred of remorse.

His eyes glowing a sickly green, he bellowed at the terrified survivors: “Mate! Do not stop! Replenish the numbers!”

Simultaneously, he dumped crates of Moon Spirit Grass and Snake Tooth Rice directly into the toxic mud. The starving, desperate survivors tore each other apart for the resources. In this crucible, they had to exert every ounce of their being just to survive.

“Azure Radiance Grotto-Heaven,” Wu Yuan commanded from the safety of Little Green Mountain. “Filter my vision. Show me the entity’s influence over the valley.”

Observing the ecological collapse from afar, Wu Yuan’s perspective shifted. Through the Grotto-Heaven’s elevated lens, he noticed a microscopic anomaly. Every time a new snake demon was born in the bloodbath, a faint, near-invisible wisp of yellow aura drifted up from the valley’s abyss and fused into the newborn.

Dragon aura, Wu Yuan concluded clinically. The Dharma Treasure Embryo is forcefully investing its own reserves to artificially induce mutations and keep the population alive.

A flash of green light crossed Wu Yuan’s vision as he monitored the valley’s Providence. With the mass die-off, the ambient Providence was plummeting.

Satisfied with the localized extinction event, Wu Yuan consulted his Karma Pearl. Give me the minimum safe distance to approach without triggering the Embryo’s defenses.

[White Intelligence: Advance 330 meters forward. Thereafter, you may safely advance an additional 165 meters every 24 hours.]

Wu Yuan smirked. His starvation protocol was working flawlessly. By draining the Spiritual Qi and forcing the Embryo to bleed its own power to sustain the dying snake population, the artifact’s sensory range was shrinking by the day.

“It won’t hold out much longer,” he murmured.

Daoist Dragon Snake had Perished millennia ago in an era devoid of rich Spiritual Qi. For his Treasure Vessel to survive this long without rotting was a miracle. Evolving into a sentient Dharma Treasure Embryo less than three years ago meant its energy reserves were pitifully shallow. Unless the sentience voluntarily submitted, Wu Yuan was far too weak to subjugate it by force. Exhausting its battery was the only scientific solution.

Back in the ruins of the valley, the Snake King collapsed into a heavy, exhausted slumber after a grueling session with his favorite concubine.

“Wake up!”

A deafening roar jolted the Snake King awake. He snapped his eyes open in a rage, ready to melt whatever fool had disturbed his rest. But as his vision cleared, his anger evaporated into absolute awe.

He was no longer in the toxic swamp. He stood on an ancient, spectral battlefield. Massive True Dragons soared through the heavens, radiating blinding light. Below, flood dragons and giant serpents tore each other apart in a rain of blood. Occasionally, a victorious flood dragon would erupt in a pillar of light, ascending into a glorious True Dragon.

“Little snake. Do you envy them?” a voice echoed.

The Snake King whipped around. Hovering in the air before him was a miniature figure. Though tiny, the sheer, crushing pressure it emitted was absolute. It was a True Dragon—complete with regal horns and five-clawed talons. This was no imitation flood dragon.

The True Dragon scrutinized the shivering Snake King. “Do you wish to Awaken? To transform into a dragon?”

The Snake King trembled violently, nodding his heavy head. “I do!”

The True Dragon appraised him. “Your aptitude is passable. As long as you provide me with enough Spirit Stones, I will grant you ascension!”

“Good! Yes! Spirit Stones! I will get Spirit Stones!” the Snake King babbled in his sleep.

His eyes snapped open in the real world. Still riding the adrenaline of the divine vision, he lunged out of Snake Valley and sprinted all the way to the underground cavern.

“Rat King!” he shrieked, sliding to a halt before Wu Yuan. “It happened! The anomaly you predicted! It’s a True Dragon!”

Wu Yuan raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the rapid timeline. It broke already? It seems the artifact is truly running on fumes.

“Give me the exact details,” Wu Yuan commanded.

The Snake King rapidly recounted the majestic vision and the divine offer of ascension.

Wu Yuan listened, processing the sheer absurdity of an ancient, apocalyptic weapon essentially begging a drug-addicted snake for spare change. He looked down at his jittery vassal with a dark, amused glint in his eye.

“If the offer was so divine,” Wu Yuan asked, “why did you refuse?”