The Rat Cultivator

“Great King, the mission is accomplished!” Bibo announced respectfully.

Wu Yuan, observing from the side, nodded slowly. His enhanced perception had caught what the naked eye might have missed: the streak of emerald light wasn’t just Spiritual Qi, but a physical object—a flying dagger shaped from a beaver’s tooth.

A life-bound Magical Artifact, Wu Yuan deduced, silently impressed. He must have refined one of his own teeth over decades. That old otter has hidden depths.

Even more surprising was the fact that he had seen it at all. To track a moving artifact with such clarity required more than just sharp eyes.

“My perception is becoming terrifyingly acute,” Wu Yuan mused. “It feels like Divine Sense is about to emerge.”

Normally, a cultivator wouldn’t unlock Divine Sense until the middle stages of Qi Condensation. Yet, whenever Wu Yuan focused, he felt a pressure in his mind, like a sun trying to break through a layer of clouds. His transmigration must have bolstered his soul, granting him early access to abilities usually reserved for veterans.

“Well done,” Wu Yuan said aloud. “I’ll note this contribution.”

He turned his gaze back to the Spirit Mulberry Tree. The moment of truth was approaching.

Bibo secretly exhaled, relieved that Wu Yuan hadn’t asked about the tooth-dagger. The Great King isn’t greedy, he thought with gratitude. I was too cynical before. He truly respects boundaries.

Wu Yuan had indeed recognized the artifact as a personal treasure, useless to anyone but the otter who crafted it. He had no interest in stealing the old man’s teeth.

His attention was fully consumed by the tree.

Having drained the immediate area of Spiritual Qi, the vortex above the canopy was beginning to destabilize. The Spirit Silkworms were panicking. Their rhythmic weaving faltered, the glowing patterns on the bark twisting into chaotic knots. The embryonic Formation flickered, threatening to collapse.

“The time has come!”

Wu Yuan didn’t hesitate. With a roar, he charged.

The silkworms, sensing an intruder, frantically tried to reorient the Formation to crush him.

“A mere incomplete array dares to block me?”

Wu Yuan laughed coldly. He simultaneously triggered two techniques—[Blood Surge Technique] and [Poison Guiding Art].

Boom!

His muscles swelled, expanding his frame by a third until he resembled a hulking beast of knotted sinew. A cloud of virulent green mist erupted around him, corroding the air itself.

He barreled toward the tree like a living cannonball.

Silkworm threads lashed out, attempting to bind him, but they dissolved the moment they touched the poison mist. Nothing could slow his momentum.

Bibo watched, slack-jawed. He slapped his own cheek to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“I spent two years learning how to fuse spells… and the Great King mastered it in days?” The otter stared, bewildered. “Am I trash? Or is he a monster?”

Wu Yuan’s ferocious aura slammed into the tree. The shockwave disrupted the delicate advancement process even further. Leaves withered and fell like rain; cracks spiderwebbed across the bark. The tree was dying.

Just as total collapse seemed inevitable, Wu Yuan reached the trunk.

He slammed his claw against the wood.

[Talent: Spirit Awakening]

A strange, harmonious ripple pulsed from his palm. His consciousness rode the wave, diving deep into the tree’s internal structure.

He found the tree’s mind. It was a blank slate—a pool of stagnant water, devoid of thought or will.

Wu Yuan poured his power into that void.

The stagnant water stirred. It began to flow, finding a direction, a purpose.

A feeling of profound intimacy and gratitude radiated from the tree back to Wu Yuan.

Outside, the Spirit Silkworms froze. They swayed their heads in confusion, their hostility vanishing as the tree signaled that the intruder was not an enemy, but a savior.

“Now!”

Wu Yuan reached into his Storage Bag and began dumping raw Spirit Stone ore onto the roots. He crushed the stones, releasing waves of pure, concentrated Spiritual Qi.

The Spirit Mulberry Tree shivered with delight. It drank greedily, its leaves rustling in thanks. The vortex above stabilized, spinning with renewed vigor.

Wu Yuan kept feeding it. Stone after stone, pile after pile.

At first, he was generous. “Eat up! The more you absorb, the stronger you become!”

But as the minutes ticked by, his expression soured.

The pile of drained, gray stones was growing into a small hill. His Storage Bag was getting lighter by the second.

“Hey… that’s enough, isn’t it?” Wu Yuan gritted his teeth. “How much can one tree eat? My bag is almost empty!”

“Stop! If you eat it all, how am I supposed to cultivate?!”

But he was already committed. The sunk cost fallacy hit hard. If he stopped now, the tree would fail, and all the previous stones would be wasted.

With a pained grimace, he continued the feeding frenzy.

Finally, just as he was scraping the bottom of his reserves, the tree stopped absorbing.

Wu Yuan slumped, feeling a mix of relief and intense financial agony.

“I’m ruined,” he mourned, mentally tallying the loss. “Based on East Sea prices, that was at least 300 Spirit Stones worth of ore! That’s enough to buy three Middle Grade plants outright!”

He checked his inventory. He had barely a hundred stones left.

I should have been more stingy, he lamented. My own cultivation barely cost fifty stones over months! This tree is a gold-digger!

However, as he looked up at the completed evolution, his pain softened.

The Spirit Mulberry Tree had transformed. It stood taller, its trunk expanded by a third. The roots had erupted from the earth, coiling like dragons to secure a massive territory.

Fresh, emerald buds were bursting from the branches. The bark was etched with intricate white patterns that made Wu Yuan dizzy if he stared too long.

The tree shook its branches gently, dropping soft leaves onto Wu Yuan’s shoulders like a comforting pat.

“At least you have a conscience,” Wu Yuan grumbled, brushing a leaf off his nose. “You know how to comfort your sugar daddy.”

He placed a hand on the trunk. The connection was clear now. The tree had a consciousness—primitive, barely more than an insect’s, but it recognized him. It trusted him.

It was a breakthrough from zero to one.

Wu Yuan focused on the white patterns on the bark.

[Blood-Binding Mystic Silkworm Formation]

Information flooded his mind. Once fully active, this Formation could suppress the Demon Power of anyone caught within its range. The silkworm threads formed a “Blood-Binding Net”—a cage as strong as mystic iron, capable of trapping enemies and draining their Qi and blood.

“Incredible,” Wu Yuan whispered, his financial sorrow replaced by academic excitement. “A natural First-Order Middle Grade Formation. Studying this is going to skyrocket my understanding of arrays.”

Above him, the Spirit Silkworms got to work. They began devouring the old leaves, their bodies glowing as they spun silk.

Within minutes, the tree was adorned with hundreds of blood-red cocoons. It looked eerie, beautiful, and deadly.

“Great King is truly formidable!” Bibo approached, bowing low. “To think it actually succeeded!”

Wu Yuan patted the trunk possessively.

“The Spiritual Qi here is too thin to sustain it long-term,” he said. “Bibo, take the rat swarm and dig it up. We’re moving it to the valley above our ore vein. It will serve as the perfect guardian for our mine.”

Bibo looked at the massive tree, then at his own aging limbs. He swallowed hard.

“Great King…” he laughed bitterly. “I’m just an old bag of bones. I really don’t have the strength to move something this big.”