Poison God's Heritage

The room fell into a deep, uneasy silence as the weight of my words settled over everyone like a suffocating blanket. The tension was palpable, so thick you could almost taste the acrid sting of it in the air. A man in ornate white and gold robes leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. He exuded the kind of authority that brooked no defiance, and he was clearly not used to being challenged.

"You're awfully outspoken for someone in captivity," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. His fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the polished surface of the massive table, a habit born of barely restrained irritation.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my gaze sweep lazily across the faces of the council members arrayed before me. "Captivity?" I echoed, letting the incredulity color my tone. "Is that what this is? You think I'm some prisoner you can push around, humiliate, and command at will?" A cold smile ghosted over my lips. "You're more arrogant than I gave you credit for."

The man's face darkened, his jaw clenching tight. A vein pulsed angrily at his temple, a clear sign of his barely contained fury. His hand slapped the table with a resounding crack, sending ripples of energy through the polished wood and drawing a collective intake of breath from the room. "You dare?" he thundered, voice booming. "Do you even comprehend who stands before you? If I so desired, I could snuff out your life a dozen times over before you realized what was happening!"

To punctuate his threat, he unleashed a wave of spiritual pressure, a crushing force that surged through the chamber like a storm, bending the air itself under its weight. The sheer power of his aura was intimidating, a testament to his formidable cultivation level. The other council members tensed, their expressions a mix of awe and unease. Yet, amidst the swirling tempest of energy, I remained unnervingly calm.

In a heartbeat, I squeezed my fist. Faster than a blink, I was no longer seated in my chair. I had swapped positions with an unsuspecting attendant who had been standing quietly behind the arrogant man. Now, I stood right beside him, a gleaming needle poised dangerously close to the pulsing vein in his neck. The Heaven Swapping Cauldron, or Ring in this case, had made the movement instantaneous, almost supernatural. The attendant stumbled forward, eyes wide with confusion and fear as he found himself where I had been a moment before.

Gasps erupted around the chamber, eyes darting between me and the councilman in white and gold. The man stiffened, his breath hitching as he felt the cold bite of the needle hovering over his skin. Every other figure in the room sprang into action, hands flying to weapons, bodies poised for battle. The atmosphere crackled with imminent violence, the kind of raw energy that precedes an explosion.

"Believe me," I said softly, my voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "If I wanted you dead, it would already be over." My tone was casual, almost conversational, but the threat was unmistakable. And it wasn't entirely an empty one. Poison Cultivators were dreaded for a reason; our methods were sinister, our abilities unpredictable. The mere possibility that I carried a dozen lethal poisons, each capable of dropping a cultivator in seconds, was enough to give even the most arrogant pause.

The elder, sensing the rapidly spiraling disaster, raised his hand in a calming gesture. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was a glint of unease in his eyes. "Shen Bao, please," he implored, his voice a study in diplomatic restraint. "We are here to discuss matters of great importance, not to bicker or shed blood."

I let out a derisive snort but relented, swapping back to my original seat as smoothly as I had left it. The attendant I had displaced stumbled and nearly fell, his face pale as he scrambled to regain his balance. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow at the assembly. "Master Wudong misunderstood the situation," I said coolly. "I'm not your captive. I'm 'Still' sitting here of my own free will, and I expect to be treated accordingly."

Truth to be told, the chances of me actually dropping him dead weren't that high. But they didn't know that. After all though I have many poisons, for someone of his caliber, he wouldn't die instantly, so I would probably have a hard time escaping these guys once I poison him.

The elder let out a slow sigh, perhaps in relief that the confrontation hadn't escalated further. "Indeed," he said, inclining his head. "Master Wudong's reaction was… inappropriate. We acknowledge our error in the way you were initially handled, and for that, we extend our apologies."

Wudong's face twisted with barely contained fury, but he held his tongue, his hands clenching and unclenching in a rhythm that betrayed his desire for violence. The tension in the room remained thick, and I could feel the wary gazes of the other council members, their suspicion and discomfort still palpable.

"To demonstrate our sincerity," the elder continued, "please accept this token of recompense." He slid a small, ornate ring from one of his fingers and pushed it across the table toward me. The gesture was practiced, diplomatic, but the undercurrent of desperation was clear. They wanted to placate me, to turn me into an ally—or at the very least, neutralize me as a threat.

I picked up the ring, sending a sliver of my spiritual sense into it. What I found made my eyes momentarily glint with greed. Inside was a veritable treasure trove of high-grade cultivation resources: elixirs and spiritual herbs, rare spirit ores that shimmered with untapped power, and artifacts humming with potent, ancient energy. It was a generous offering, to say the least.

A slow, calculated smile spread across my face. "This is more than enough to soothe my wounded pride," I said, slipping the ring into my own storage space. "I accept your apology."

The elder nodded, though his expression was still lined with worry. The other council members weren't so easily appeased. Their wariness hadn't dissipated, and their eyes never left me, like predators watching an unknown, potentially lethal animal. Master Wudong looked especially disgruntled, as though he were contemplating the fastest way to cut me down if given half a chance.

"Good," the elder said, steering the conversation into more comfortable waters. "Since we are now on amicable terms, let's speak candidly. We've spent millennia—tens of thousands of years—studying the Broodmother. Despite our greatest efforts, she remains an unfathomable threat. We've sent countless expeditions to learn her secrets, but the results have been… disappointingly meager. You and your group, however, have stirred up activity like we've never seen before. We were forced to take you seriously."

They probably never sat foot on the planet, expedition my ass...

I inclined my head, acknowledging his point. "Your caution was warranted," I agreed. "But we didn't come to Solarous with the intent of waking the Broodmother. We were there to gather information, and we learned much about her methods."

"Methods?" Don Ma asked, his voice sharp. "What do you mean?"

I let the silence hang for a moment, savoring the anticipation in the room. "While exploring Solarous," I began, "we discovered that the Broodmother hasn't been lying dormant. She's been busy, creating breeding grounds to birth new Rakshasa and strengthen her abominable forces."

A murmur of shock swept through the council, the collective dread almost tangible. Don Ma's eyes narrowed into slits. "Breeding grounds?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his words. "You're saying she's actively spawning new horrors even now?"

I nodded gravely. "Precisely. And she's not acting alone. The one called the Liberator has established a system to sustain and nourish the Rakshasa race. Entire civilizations of mortals are being used as livestock, sacrificed to feed the Rakshasa and keep them content."

The mention of mortals killed their interest almost immediately. Wudong scoffed, his disdain evident. "Mortals?" he spat. "They're insignificant, expendable. Cattle, as you said. Why should we waste our resources saving them?"

My jaw tightened, though I kept my voice even. "Even cattle play a role in the balance of the world," I said, my tone as cold as ice. "These are remnants of Solarous' once-great society, left to a fate worse than death."

The elder steepled his fingers, his expression thoughtful but unmoved. "Your tale paints a bleak picture," he said, his voice heavy with deliberation. "But committing resources to save mortals... that is not a decision we can make lightly. We must weigh our options carefully."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

I almost laughed. Weigh their options? The hypocrisy of it was almost laughable. These were the same people who had sealed Solarous, leaving it to rot. Now, they hesitated over whether the lives of innocent mortals were worth the inconvenience of action. It was a bitter reminder of the selfishness that had doomed so many.

"Well," I said, my voice hardening, "do as you will. But know this: the Rakshasa are not a problem you can keep ignoring. Their numbers will continue to grow, and when they finally shatter your precious formation, you'll wish you had taken my warnings seriously."

Another long, heavy silence. The elder exchanged a look with Don Ma, a silent conversation passing between them. "You seem to know a great deal about our greatest enemy," the elder finally said. "Perhaps you've found solutions we haven't. Have you made any progress? Are you willing to share your findings?"

I leaned back, a slow, almost predatory smile playing at my lips. "Ah," I murmured, "now we're getting to the heart of the matter. Yes, I've made progress. But sharing? That's a matter of negotiation, don't you think?" Discover exclusive content at empire

The council members stiffened, and I could almost taste the hunger in the room. Everyone wanted a piece of the puzzle I claimed to hold, but they would soon learn that dealing with me—Shen Bao, was a game they couldn't win without paying a steep price.