Chapter 73: Spirit Runes

Wu Yuan dropped the twitching mouse demon from his grasp and picked up his quill, scribbling his latest findings into the [Book of Spirit Runes].

“Interesting. This subject’s internal structure differs slightly from the previous specimen.”

He tapped the page thoughtfully. “By increasing the thickness of the Spirit Runes located in the cranial region, I can amplify the damage output of the [Spirit Arrow Technique].”

To verify, Wu Yuan reached into a cage and pulled out another robust, ordinary rat. He circulated his Demon Power, his finger glowing with a scalpel-like precision as he carved the spell’s matrix directly into the creature’s living flesh.

The rat shrieked, its body contorting in agony as blood seeped from its eyes and nose. Wu Yuan’s expression remained as placid as a lake.

“[Blood-Burning Technique]!”

He triggered the spell.

The runes etched into the rat’s flesh ignited. The spell forcibly combusted the creature’s life force, squeezing every drop of potential energy to fuel the attack.

Whoosh!

The rat was engulfed in blood-colored flames. Its body withered instantly, turning into a dry husk, but the sacrificial energy successfully coalesced into a crimson spirit arrow.

Thwack!

The projectile slammed into the floor, gouging out a hole the size of a fist—significantly larger than the pinprick marks surrounding it.

“Excellent. The power output has increased by roughly 30%.” Wu Yuan nodded, satisfied. “I should see if this optimization can be applied to other spells.”

He casually tossed the mummified rat corpse through a gap in the treehouse floorboards, aiming for the shadows below.

Splat.

A chorus of weak, terrified squeaks echoed from the darkness.

Below the treehouse lay the “Mouse Mountain”—a literal hill composed of countless rat corpses. Among the dead, thousands of half-dead rats struggled and crawled, awaiting their turn to be useful.

The population of ordinary rats on Little Green Mountain was staggering. Wu Yuan estimated the numbers had breached the 1,000,000 mark.

To him, these weren’t citizens; they were renewable resources. Consumables.

“They have no ‘Rat Rights’,” Wu Yuan mused, wiping his hands. “But I am a benevolent ruler. I do not deny them the opportunity for social mobility.”

Just like the wretches in the corpse pile—if they could survive the harsh conditions and absorb the ambient energy, Wu Yuan would bestow spiritual resources upon them to help them evolve.

Once they became Demon Beasts, their status would upgrade.

“Ordinary rats don’t count as rats. Mouse Demons count as proper rats.”

Mouse Demons were the employees. They had basic rights, a salary (food), and a defined career path. Sure, they could be sacrificed for the greater good if necessary, but that was just part of the job description.

Even so, his lieutenants—Bibo and Little Gray—often complained that their Great King was too soft.

“Boss,” Little Gray would often say, “giving them food is already a supreme kindness. Why do we have to pay them rewards for working? It spoils them!”

Wu Yuan’s core team—Big Old Black and the others—were different. They were the executive board. They were useful, competent, and after spending so much time together, Wu Yuan had even developed a trace of affection for them.

More importantly, he had used [Spirit Awakening] to brand them with the Spirit-Gathering Mouse mark. Their loyalty was biologically enforced. If Wu Yuan ever had to flee, he would pack them up and take them with him.

As for Little Yellow?

If any rat dared to ask, “Hey, how is Little Yellow doing?”, Wu Yuan would slap them into the next life. Some things were better left unspoken.

Below the treehouse, the massive roots of the [Blood-Binding Spirit Mulberry] writhed like pythons, burrowing into the Mouse Mountain. The roots churned and crushed the corpses, absorbing the biological slurry to prevent rot and fuel the tree’s growth.

However, Wu Yuan’s consumption rate was too high. The Spirit Mulberry’s digestion couldn’t keep up with the speed of his research.

The blood-red leaves of the tree rustled aggressively, transmitting a wave of disdain into Wu Yuan’s mind.

“I am a noble spiritual root! I usually eat fresh monster meat and Spirit Stones! What is this garbage you’re feeding me?”

Wu Yuan didn’t even look up, his attention already focused on the next test subject.

“I know you have a refined palate,” he projected back calmly. “But you must understand the classics: ‘When Heaven is about to bestow a great responsibility upon a tree, it must first starve its roots and exhaust its…'”

Click.

The Spirit Mulberry abruptly severed the mental connection, choosing to sullenly suck dry another hundred corpses rather than listen to his lecture.

Wu Yuan shook his head. “Kids these days. No patience.”

He turned his gaze back to the trembling rat in his palm.

“In my previous life, mice were the unsung heroes of science. We don’t have white lab mice here, but Little Gray mice work just as well.”

He paused, a sudden ethical question flickering in his mind. “Wait. Does this count as illegal experimentation on my own kind?”

He considered it for a split second before shaking his head decisively.

“Nonsense. As I said: Ordinary rats are not people. They are biomass.”

“I provide them with food, shelter, and a path to cultivation. Is it too much to ask that they contribute a little to their Great King’s research?”

“This is all for the good of the colony.”

Wu Yuan puffed out his chest, his internal voice echoing with corporate grandeur.

“I am the Swarm!”

Days turned into weeks. Wu Yuan felt knowledge flooding into his brain, his life fulfilling and productive.

In his past life, he had been a good student, but never a genius. Now, with his enhanced spirit and the Causality Pearl, learning felt as easy as breathing.

He set down a jade slip titled Introduction to Artifact Forging with a sigh of satisfaction.

“Every time I read this, I gain new insights.”

“Although it only covers Rank 1 Low-Grade artifacts, it’s a treasure trove. Even if I can’t physically hammer metal yet, the theory of the Spirit Runes within is fascinating.”

“It has massively expanded my [Book of Spirit Runes].”

Using the theory from the jade slip, Wu Yuan had successfully reverse-engineered the runes from his [Stone Wood Horn Arrow] and the [Wood Calling Spirit Horn].

He had extracted runes for Mind Link, Sharpness, Extreme Speed, Tenacity, Growth, Spiritual Qi Conduction, and Amplification.

This was where his talent, [Spirit Awakening], revealed its truly game-breaking nature.

Normally, seeing the internal rune structure of a finished artifact was impossible without destroying it. But Wu Yuan could bypass that.

He could forcibly convert someone else’s “Life-Bound Magical Artifact” into his own “Awakened Spirit Artifact.”

It was absurd. It was cheating.

A traditional Cultivator Artificer had to forge the item, manually carve the microscopic runes, and perform a blood sacrifice to bind it. It was a process of blood, sweat, and tears.

Wu Yuan just poked it with his finger, and voila—it was his.

If the Cultivator Artificers of the cultivation world knew what he was doing, they would cough up blood and die of envy.

“Those poor smiths,” Wu Yuan chuckled darkly. “They have to kowtow until their heads bleed, serve tea to their masters like obedient grandsons, and endure years of abuse just to learn the ‘Three Essentials of Forging’: Technique, Runes, and Integration.”

“Technique” was manual labor—processing materials, controlling fire. It was the easiest part.

The real secrets were “Runes” (the function) and “Integration” (how to stack runes without them exploding).

A master Cultivator Artificer could guard a single unique rune combination as a family heirloom for generations. They used encryption, traps, and blood oaths to prevent theft.

And here was Wu Yuan.

Activate Talent.

The artifact spread its legs wide, revealing every secret, every rune, every hidden connection. It actively cooperated, practically begging him to copy its homework.

“Of the Three Essentials, I’ve effortlessly swiped two,” Wu Yuan smirked. “I’m practically robbing the entire profession blind.”

He wasn’t a novice anymore. He knew exactly how terrifying this talent was.

[Spirit Awakening] had three functions: Enlightening Intelligence, Conscious Communication, and Imprinting Marks.

The latter two were rare but not unheard of. Spells existed that could replicate them.

But Enlightening Intelligence? Bestowing sentience upon an object or beast? That was the domain of great supernatural beings. That was a divine ability.

“I must hide that part,” he resolved. “I can show off the Mark and the Communication. Those can be explained as innate talents or secret arts.”

After all, the Cat King had invested in him precisely because he showed promise. A genius was worth protecting; a monster was worth dissecting.

He had led the outside world to believe he controlled the Spirit Mulberry through a secret art, never revealing that the tree had its own independent, albeit childish, consciousness.

“A little opening doesn’t count as opening,” Wu Yuan nodded sagely, quoting his own philosophy of strategic disclosure.

“This is simply my Shocking Wisdom at work.”

“Perhaps I even possess Astonishing Providence!”

“Compared to the spoiled descendants of Golden Core, Nascent Soul, or even Soul Formation ancestors, I am actually quite humble and ordinary!”

“I have to rely on my own hard work—and the tiny, insignificant help of the Karma Pearl—just to keep up with their footsteps.”

Wu Yuan stroked the cover of his [Book of Spirit Runes] lovingly.