Seeing Wu Yuan and Bibo chatting casually, acting as if no one else was around, the hummingbird felt a surge of humiliation turn into incandescent rage.

“You occupy my home, and yet you dare to ignore me?” the bird shrieked, its voice vibrating with indignation. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget!”

As the words left its beak, the hummingbird stopped hiding. It launched itself directly at Wu Yuan.

This time, it didn’t just fly; it moved as if using [Teleportation].

One moment it was hovering at a distance; the next, it was right in front of Wu Yuan’s face.

The hummingbird was cunning. It had realized that while Wu Yuan had lower cultivation, his sensory perception was sharp enough to track its movements. Therefore, it decided to incapacitate the threat first before dealing with the slower Bibo.

Wu Yuan saw the attack coming, but his body couldn’t keep up with his eyes. He only had time to instinctively tuck his chin, shielding his vulnerable eyes.

Thwack!

The hummingbird’s needle-sharp beak struck Wu Yuan’s forehead like a pneumatic drill, tearing through the skin.

CLANG!

A dull, heavy sound echoed through the bamboo grove—the sound of something hard striking something indestructible.

The beak, intent on piercing the brain, slammed violently into Wu Yuan’s frontal bone.

A spiderweb of microscopic cracks appeared on the bone, visible through the torn skin, but the bone itself held firm.

“Screech—!”

The hummingbird let out a hoarse, shrill cry of agony.

“So hard! It hurts! It hurts!”

The beak—the hardest, deadliest weapon on the hummingbird’s body—had shattered upon impact. Fragments of the beak remained embedded in the bloody gash on Wu Yuan’s head.

Terror flooded the bird’s eyes. It cast one last horrified glance at the unmoving rat demon before turning into a streak of cyan light, tracing a winding path as it vanished into the depths of the bamboo forest.

“Great King!”

Bibo finally reacted, his voice trembling with anxiety. “Your wound…”

But as he rushed over and saw the state of Wu Yuan’s forehead—and the miserable fate of the attacker—his words died in his throat.

Wu Yuan’s injury looked gruesome at first glance, blood masking his face. But in reality, it was superficial. The skin was torn, and the yellowish-white bone beneath had only a hairline fracture.

With his current vitality, such a wound would heal before the sun set.

The hummingbird, on the other hand, was ruined. Its beak was snapped off at the root. Its Demon Power was fluctuating wildly, on the verge of chaotic collapse.

If it hadn’t fled with such desperate speed, it would have been defenseless against Wu Yuan’s counterattack.

Wu Yuan reached up and wiped the blood from his eyes. The bleeding had already begun to slow.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice muffled but calm. “That bird won’t be recovering anytime soon. We need to figure out a way to restrict its movement for the next time.”

This was the first time Wu Yuan had truly suffered a loss in a fight, unable to physically react to an enemy’s speed.

I still need to keep cultivating. I need to be stronger.

However, as he touched the hard ridge of his skull, his mood improved instantly.

Whatever doesn’t kill you… well, it seems every bit of hardship I endured eating that ore has repaid itself with interest.

He looked up and noticed Bibo staring at his forehead with an expression bordering on reverence.

“What’s the matter? My bones are just a little hard. Is it worth looking so shocked?”

Hearing Wu Yuan’s casual, almost arrogant dismissal of the event, Bibo stammered.

“Great King, you… you are truly extraordinary! That level of physical toughness… only a Flood Dragon with an innately superior bloodline could match your physique at this realm!”

Wu Yuan knew Bibo was exaggerating slightly.

To possess a Flood Dragon bloodline meant having at least a Tier 3 lineage—creatures born powerful, rulers of the waters. A rat demon couldn’t truly compare to such mythical beasts yet.

But Wu Yuan didn’t belittle himself either.

After this head-on collision, he understood one thing clearly: he was no longer a creature that ordinary Demon Beasts could bully.

His thoughts drifted back to the attacker.

“That hummingbird felt familiar,” Wu Yuan said, turning to Bibo. “Do you know what bloodline it has Awakened?”

Bibo pondered for a moment.

“Great King, the movement technique it used just now resembled the [Wind Walk Technique]. I suspect its ancestors might be related to the Wind Roc.”

The Wind Roc.

The name triggered a memory. Wu Yuan recalled the night of the Di Liu Jiang, and the giant cyan bird Demon that had descended from the heavens.

That Great Demon had possessed a thick Wind Roc bloodline. Its might was overwhelming; even hiding deep underground, Wu Yuan had felt the howling, pervasive gale that seemed to cut through the earth itself.

He also remembered the cyan feather he had found in the owl’s nest.

He hadn’t found a use for it at the time, keeping it merely as a memento.

“The aura on that cyan feather is very similar to the hummingbird’s. Did it come from here?” Wu Yuan mused. “That would answer a question I’ve had for a while.”

He glanced around the rustling bamboo forest.

“Let’s go to the Bamboo Pond,” Wu Yuan commanded. “It’s a good time to soak and recover from this injury.”

The Bamboo Pond was the jewel of the forest.

It was a convergence point for Wood-attribute Spiritual Qi and the natural essence of the bamboo, granting the water potent healing and mind-calming properties.

Wu Yuan often soaked here to clear his mind for spell study.

As he slowly waded into the cool, emerald waters, he immediately noticed a difference.

His stomach lurched.

The yellow spirit patterns etched onto his organ suddenly flared with brightness, reacting to the environment.

Wu Yuan felt the water around him vibrate. Strands of pure Wood Spiritual Qi were being pulled from the pond and dragged forcibly into his body. The gash on his forehead began to knit together at a visible rate.

A wound that should have taken a day to heal was closing in minutes.

Acting on instinct, Wu Yuan opened his mouth and took a large gulp of the pond water.

The sensation intensified instantly.

His stomach acted like a vortex, a biological black hole that stripped the Spiritual Qi from the water the moment it hit his gut.

Wu Yuan’s eyes lit up.

Since the last body tempering session, I haven’t been back here. I didn’t expect my absorption efficiency to be this terrifying.

It seems I haven’t fully tapped into the Potential of my new body. I’ve been too obsessed with studying spirit patterns theoretically; I need to learn to apply them physically.

Wu Yuan activated his innate talent, [Spirit Gathering].

The Spiritual Qi in the surrounding water rushed toward him.

Then, he actively triggered the spirit patterns on his stomach.

Whoosh!

The absorption went from a stream to a flood. It was like a whale swallowing the ocean—devouring essence in massive, greedy gulps.

In less than an hour, Wu Yuan hit his daily saturation limit for Spiritual Qi.

“My cultivation speed has tripled,” Wu Yuan noted with internal glee. “What used to take 3 hours now takes one.”

This is perfect. It leaves me more time to study.

Furthermore, the stomach patterns revealed another function.

Wu Yuan could feel a stream of cool, refreshing energy being separated from the raw Qi and absorbed independently by the stomach walls. This was the specific essence responsible for the pond’s mind-calming effect.

He could filter the energy.

This meant that if he encountered mixed or impure Spiritual Qi in the future, he could selectively absorb only what was beneficial to him.

“This Demon Beast body tempering is truly formidable,” Wu Yuan thought, rubbing his belly. “It warrants much deeper research.”

One month passed in the blink of an eye.

In the clearing of Little Green Mountain, Wu Yuan summoned his lieutenants.

“Have all the spirit insects in the area been cleared out?” he asked.

Big Old Black stepped forward, scratching his head. “Boss, these bugs are too good at hiding. I dug around for a whole month and only caught three: a mantis, a scorpion, and a centipede.”

Wu Yuan looked at the captives.

“The mantis is weak and has poor Potential. Dispose of it,” he ordered casually. “As for the scorpion and the centipede… keep them alive. See if we can farm them for venom.”

Bibo stepped up next. “Great King, there is another matter. Recently, the behavior of the Spirit Silkworms on the spirit mulberry tree has been very strange. They aren’t spinning silk like proper silkworms.”

Wu Yuan raised an eyebrow. He had neglected the silkworms due to lack of time, but hearing of new changes piqued his curiosity.

“Big Old Black, go handle the insects,” Wu Yuan dismissed the dog.

He stood still, watching the large black dog trot away until he disappeared into the brush. Then, he turned to the rat beside him.

“We have time. Let’s go see these Spirit Silkworms. I’m quite interested.”