The Rat Cultivator

Chapter 85: Surrender

Wu Yuan turned a deaf ear to the Winged Tiger’s plea.

He raised the Gu Duo mace high and brought it down again.

CRACK!

This time, the Winged Tiger couldn’t hold the line. His grip faltered, and the Tiger Head Great Shield was knocked violently aside.

Wu Yuan didn’t stop there. With shocking control, he redirected the mace mid-swing, slamming it into the Tiger’s exposed flank.

Even through the White Bone Armor, the impact was devastating. The armor buckled, and the flesh beneath it collapsed, ribs shattering like dry twigs.

The Winged Tiger’s eyes bulged from their sockets. Blood streamed from his nose, mouth, and ears. Even his fur began to weep crimson beads as the shockwave ruptured capillaries across his entire body.

Wu Yuan halted. He stood still, his expression placid, choosing not to deliver the killing blow.

He quickly assessed his internal state. This entire combo had been surprisingly efficient, consuming only 20% of his Demon Power—an amount he could recover in seconds using his Stomach Spirit Storage.

However, the physical toll was higher. He had burned through 30% of his Qi and Blood vitality, which would take over ten minutes to regenerate.

Wu Yuan had learned the hard way that stamina management was critical. The more Qi and Blood vitality he burned, the slower his Demon Power recovered. If his reserves dropped below half, recovery time ballooned from minutes to days.

Strategic conservation, he reminded himself. Always keep the tank above 50%.

He estimated he had only used about 40% of his total combat potential in this fight.

Suddenly, a surge of power erupted from the broken heap of fur on the ground. The Winged Tiger’s fading aura spiked, snapping back from the brink of death with unnatural speed.

Wu Yuan raised an eyebrow. “Typical rich kid. Always has a life-saving backup plan.”

He watched the Tiger’s wounds knit together. “Though, this guy is weird. Wind Walk Technique, turtle-shell artifacts, and a healing trump card… He’s built entirely for running away. A coward through and through.”

“Dad! Daddy!!”

The Winged Tiger, now conscious but still a mess of broken bones and blood, looked at his shattered shield and realized his trump cards were gone. Overwhelmed by grief, he burst into loud, ugly tears.

“WAAAAH!”

Snot mixed with blood bubbled from his nose as he wailed.

Wu Yuan wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Look at him go. A moment ago he was dying, now he’s crying with full lung capacity. Demon beasts really are durable.”

Sensing Wu Yuan’s judgmental stare, the Tiger’s wailing tapered off into a pathetic whimper.

“Great King,” he sniffled. ” Didn’t we agree to stop at the point of contact?”

Wu Yuan puffed out his chest, looking down at his captive with supreme arrogance.

“As everyone knows,” Wu Yuan declared, “demons don’t keep their word!”

The Winged Tiger nodded vigorously, blood flying from his ears. “The Great King is wise! There is indeed no need to keep promises to the weak!”

Wu Yuan scoffed. “Stop acting. You’re not dead, are you? I stopped attacking ages ago.”

The Tiger immediately switched to a fawning grin. “The Great King’s divine might is awe-inspiring! It is Little Green Mountain’s blessing to be under your rule!”

Wu Yuan wasn’t moved. Compared to the sycophantic artistry of Big Old Black, this Tiger was an amateur. He stared at the intruder silently, letting the pressure build.

The Tiger’s heart sank. Crap. I spoke too freely. This silence is bad.

He was a prisoner now, meat on the chopping block. If he didn’t prove his worth immediately, the Rat King would extract the intel and dispose of him.

The atmosphere grew heavy. The Tiger gritted his teeth, made a painful decision, and reached over his shoulder.

RIIIP!

With a sickening tear, he ripped the small, vestigial wings from his own back.

He chanted a quick incantation, spraying mouthfuls of essence blood onto the severed limbs. Green spirit patterns flared to life on the bloody feathers.

Wu Yuan watched with interest. The Tiger was using a blood sacrifice technique to refine his own biological organs into a Lifebound Artifact embryo.

He knows when to fold, Wu Yuan thought approvingly. Sensible.

Most demon beasts couldn’t forge traditional tools. Instead, they refined their own “spell organs”—claws, teeth, feathers, or scales—into Lifebound Artifacts.

Commonly, demons used regenerative parts like teeth or claws. But wings? For a Winged Tiger, losing his wings was a catastrophic blow to his foundation. It was worse than castration.

The Tiger visibly withered. His aura plummeted, endangering his rank as a Second-Grade High-Tier bloodline. He had effectively crippled his future potential to save his present life.

“Great King,” the Tiger said, his voice trembling as he held out the bloody wings. “Please accept this Lifebound Artifact as a greeting gift. You must accept it!”

Wu Yuan stayed silent.

Panic flared in the Tiger’s eyes. He opened his mouth and spat out a glowing tiger tooth. “And this storage artifact!”

Wu Yuan still didn’t speak.

Terrified, the Tiger clutched his broken shield and bone armor protectively. “Great King! These two heirlooms were made from my father’s corpse! Only I can use them! Even if you dismantle them, you won’t get any good materials! Please!”

Wu Yuan almost laughed. He knew that was a lie—the materials were definitely valuable for research or consumption—but he decided not to push the poor beast any further.

Wu Yuan’s cold expression melted into a warm, friendly smile. He laughed heartily.

“Little Tiger! What do you take me for?” Wu Yuan chided, stepping forward. “We said we’d stop at the point of contact, so obviously I stopped! Why are you giving me gifts?”

He snatched the wings and the tooth from the Tiger’s trembling paws.

“But since you insist, I’ll accept them. I’m a gracious host, after all.”

If this were a human interaction, Wu Yuan would have been slapped for such shameless hypocrisy—taking advantage while acting innocent.

But this was the demon world.

The Winged Tiger looked genuinely grateful. “As long as the Great King likes them!”

This was the law of the jungle: The weak are prey to the strong, and the strong are revered. Power was the only truth.

Wu Yuan pocketed the loot and clapped his hands.

The ground rumbled as Bibo and Big Old Black emerged from the soil.

“Guests must be treated well,” Wu Yuan told the Tiger, gesturing to his minions. “Follow them to the bamboo forest. Soak in the spirit pool and heal up. While you’re there, think carefully about what you’re going to tell me later.”

The killing intent was gone.

Thank the heavens, he thought. This Rat King has a gentle temperament. He isn’t bloodthirsty. I might actually survive this.

I need to perform well. Maybe I can still go home with my limbs attached.

With a final grateful bow, the Winged Tiger limped after Bibo.