Poison God's Heritage

The wave of Rakshasa descended upon the Sea of Demons with terrifying numbers and overwhelming force, spreading like a plague across the land. Hundreds of millions of these fiends surged forward, their sheer presence threatening to bring about total annihilation. The way they spread through the Sea of Demons resembled a river splitting into twelve streams, each led by a pair of Noble Brutes.

These hulking monsters, followed closely by hundreds of thousands of Brutes, acted as the vanguard, their raw power and relentless drive making them an unstoppable force against any cultivator below the Heaven Stage.

Shen Bao's protective measures had activated in response to the invasion, and the dark sea suddenly blazed with light in twelve distinct locations. The defenses that had been carefully crafted and meticulously maintained now unleashed their full fury. Millions of bullets shot skyward in an instant, forming a constant, unyielding barrage.

From afar, the tightly packed streams of bullets appeared like glowing red lines cutting through the night sky, a relentless storm of death aimed at the Rakshasa.

The bullets tore through the advancing Rakshasa, ripping apart those who were unprepared and piercing the defenses of those who attempted to shield their vitals with their arms. The sky above the Sea of Demons became a lethal arena as more and more bullets shot upward, their impact amplified by poisonous clouds that spread across the high skies.

The Rakshasa that dared to enter these toxic clouds were instantly frozen, their bodies turned into grotesque ice sculptures. Those fortunate enough to evade the poison were swiftly struck down by the thunder turrets lining the walls, their bodies convulsing as arcs of lightning coursed through them.

The Heavenly Dao of the Beyond showed no mercy to these invaders, who had dared to steal another Heavenly Dao to come into existence. It was as if the very fabric of the world itself rejected their presence. The skies darkened as thick clouds gathered, their ominous weight pressing down on the battlefield.

The storm that formed above was more than just a natural phenomenon; it was an embodiment of the Heavenly Dao's wrath. Thunderbolts, each as thick as a tree trunk, began to swim beneath the belly of the storm like dragons made of pure lightning, diving in and out of the swirling darkness.

The storm unleashed its fury with terrifying speed and power. Bolts of lightning, each one a harbinger of death, rained down on the Rakshasa. The booming thunder that accompanied each strike was so intense that it shook the very sea itself, sending ripples of fear through even the bravest of hearts.

The physical manifestation of the Heavenly Thunder was devastating, tearing through the Rakshasa as they desperately tried to flee its path. But who can outrun lightning? The answer was clear—no one. The Rakshasa, despite their best efforts, were obliterated by the storm's relentless assault.

Yet, even in the face of such overwhelming power, the Rakshasa did not falter. They continued to pour in more and more of their numbers, sacrificing themselves to create a path for their brethren. Their resolve was terrifying, a testament to their single-minded determination to claim the Beyond as their new home.

The first wave of Rakshasa collided with the barrier surrounding the capital city with the force of a tidal wave. The sheer weight and pressure of hundreds of thousands of Rakshasa slamming against the barrier caused the sea around the city to churn violently, pushing the entire structure deeper into the water.

The barrier, however, held firm, its strength a testament to Shen Bao's foresight and preparation.

The puppets stationed along the walls had firmly planted their feet into the ground, unaffected by the powerful impact. However, the rest of the city's inhabitants were less fortunate. The sudden, violent shaking caused widespread injuries and destruction in the lower, hidden half of the city. The upper half, protected by thick metallic Soulsteel sheets, remained unscathed.

These sheets were impenetrable, designed to withstand even the relentless rage of a Noble Brute, who would need days of furious assault to make a dent.

The waters of the Sea of Demons, normally a bane to cultivators, now proved to be a powerful ally. The moment the Rakshasa touched the water, their Qi was instantly sealed, depriving them of the majority of their power. Unable to draw upon the Qi in their surroundings, the Rakshasa were forced to rely solely on the Qi stored within their bodies.

This sudden weakness had a paralyzing effect on the White Rakshasa, the weakest of their kind, rendering them easy targets for the puppets manning the walls.

As the city began to rise back to the surface, only two Noble Brutes managed to maintain their grip on the dome, while the rest were swept away into the water, thrashing helplessly as they gasped for breath they didn't need. The two remaining brutes raised their massive arms and brought them down against the barrier with all their might, but the barrier held strong, its integrity unshaken.

Suddenly, a cultivator shot up from within the city. His appearance was striking, with only one organic arm grasping the middle of a strange-looking spear, while the other was fully metallic, holding the weapon's butt. The cultivator soared upward until he was directly beneath the Noble Brute that was attempting to breach the barrier.

The brute, seeing the cultivator through the barrier, dismissed him as a non-threat. But its instincts kicked in, albeit too late.

The cultivator, an Origin Shattering Stage warrior, knew he couldn't match the brute in a direct confrontation. But with the aid of his new mechanical arm, he had a powerful trump card. A small reactor, modeled after those in the Bastion, was embedded in the arm, and it fired up with a surge of energy.

The reactor functioned like a one-time-use slug, generating energy comparable to that of a Heaven Stage cultivator. This energy shot out from the spear's tip like a concentrated laser beam, piercing through the one-way barrier and striking the Rakshasa in the chest.

The brute had only a moment to realize what had happened as it watched its upper body slide away from its lower half, severed cleanly in two. The cultivator, now exhausted and drained of energy, fell back to the metallic platform below, a triumphant smile on his face as he witnessed the death of a Noble Brute.

Similar scenes played out in the other cities, where cultivators used this one-use reactor to deliver fatal blows to the Noble Rakshasa. The cost of using this device was high—complete exhaustion and a significant risk of death. The reactor drained not only the Qi in its surroundings but also all the Qi within the wielder, often leading to the cultivator's demise.

Out of all the twelve cities, only three cultivators survived the use of this powerful weapon, but each of them had succeeded in killing a Noble Rakshasa.

This sudden and unexpected turn of events caused the Rakshasa army to hesitate. The death of so many Nobles in such a short time was a shock to their system. A golden-capped Noble, the second evolution of a Black Rakshasa, let out a powerful echoing command that reverberated through the battlefield.

The Rakshasa that had breached the cities immediately retreated into the sea waters. Though the water weakened them, they no longer needed to claim the cities—they needed to establish a base, a foothold from which to continue their assault. The orders to retreat came just as a new figure arrived on the battlefield, one who would change the course of the battle.

***

"I guess they started without me," I muttered, hovering above the Sea of Demons. Below me, the twelve cities were locked in battle, their defenses holding firm, but barely. The puppets were out in full force, but there was no sign of any additional help, no reinforcements from the other territories.

Not that I expected any. I knew better than to rely on others, but it still stung a bit that no one had bothered to send even a few cultivators to assist in this mess. It was just another reminder that in this world, you're on your own.

"Regardless," I sighed, cracking my fingers in preparation. "Time to get cooking," I said, and with a burst of speed, I shot forward, my body moving as fast as my almost Origin Realm cultivation would allow.

In the time since I had begun absorbing Qi in the Blue Sun's territory, I had reached the peak of the Void Shattering Realm. But the Origin Realm remained elusive, just out of reach. The barrier to that realm wasn't physical or even purely spiritual—it was a matter of understanding, a mental and philosophical breakthrough that I hadn't yet achieved.

To become the Void is to transcend the physical and tangible, to step beyond existence into the realm of nonexistence. Yet even in that state, you remain aware of yourself, your presence, and your essence. It's a state of mind where you seek to isolate your being from the world, to understand your true self in isolation.

I had done that; I had embraced both sides of who I am—the humble Dragon Shen Bao and the murderous tyrant Du Shen. But to reach the Origin state was to go beyond that, to understand not just who I am, but why I am, the origin of my existence, my purpose, and my place in the grand scheme of things.

And to be honest, I hadn't the faintest clue what that meant. So, I decided to wing it. It wasn't like I had a choice, anyway, because the Rakshasa were coming, and a few thousand of them were headed straight for me.