“How bothersome…”
Suddenly, an ethereal, shadowy light erupted from his glabella.
It instantly materialized into a void-like mist that exhaled a crushing weight of malice and oppression.
For a heartbeat, the dark vapor hovered before Asterius as if evaluating him.
Then, with a sudden surge, it lunged forward and swallowed him whole.
In the blink of an eye, he stood clad in mecha-inspired medieval plate armor.
It encased him seamlessly from head to toe—he was weaponized to the teeth.
The outer shell consisted of interlocking, carapace-like plates that swallowed the surrounding light, mimicking the impenetrable hide of the Ant King.
Encapsulating his head was a featureless helm.
It bore only two sharp, narrow slits completely devoid of eyes, housing instead a stagnant, chilling darkness that threatened to bleed out at any moment.
Beneath the plates, a pitch-black membranous fabric held the suit together; it was deceptively soft to the touch, yet possessed the unbreakable resilience of tungsten steel.
Webbing across the entire armor was a network of microscopic, vein-like vessels that throbbed with a faint, crimson luminescence, mimicking a restless heartbeat.
These vital channels spiderwebbed over every surface, pulsing rhythmically to suffuse the armor with a surge of raw energy, casting an eerie, visceral aura around him.
“…Nice…” Asterius muttered.
He clenched his left fist, savoring the torrent of absolute power coursing through his veins.
As he relaxed his grip, the wind rustled gently between his sharply clawed black fingers produced whistling sounds like the wailing of ghosts!
The armor not only boosted his physical capabilities but also gave his presence and voice a heavy and threatening vibe.
“With this, my defense is more than assured before an epic grade creature.” With the addition of the Ant King’s Armor, he could go toe to toe with a full-fledged epic grade beast and not lose his ground.
“Now, let’s just see how effective you are” Asterius muttered under his breath, shifting his attention to the bats.
Silence!
The groove was enveloped in a deafening silence.
The only noise that could be heard being the occasional rustling of the humid wind.
The poor nocturnal creatures were now shivering in fear and panic.
The low level ones falling directly from the ceiling to the ground shuddering intermittently.
The squeaking sounds made by the bats ceased entirely like it never existed.
The Antking’s Armor was working its magic.
Fear!
Asterius payed no heed to this and walked deep into the deeper recesses of the groove, the Vampire Bats subconsciously making way for him.
Their number gradually reduced as he got closer to the center until there were none hanging from the ceiling.
Only one.
It was a rare grade!”
It stood apart from the rest: smaller, cloaked in a distinctly darker hue, and radiating a suffocatingly heavy pressure.
It was a rare-grade specimen.
Its aura teetered on the very edge of the epic grade, though it fell just short of the threshold.
Unlike its frenzied minions, this creature maintained a chilling composure, locking its squinted, crimson eyes onto Asterius.
Unfazed, the uninvited guest advanced with slow, deliberate steps, driving the creature into a deeper panic.
A silent, suffocating standoff ensued.
For over ten seconds, neither broke eye contact—until a stray Vampire Bat finally shattered the fragile stillness.
Driven past its breaking point, it snapped.
“SHRIEEEKK!” it shrieked hysterically, scrambling to take flight.
But before its wings could fully catch the air—[Killing Ray].
An ethereal beam of sword aura tore through the void at impossible speed, piercing straight through its skull.
Whoosh—poke!—plop!
With a hollow thud, the creature collapsed motionlessly to the earth, its beady eyes wide open as if frozen in silent protest of its sudden demise.
• Rare Creature slain: Vampire Bat killed
• No soul armament gained
• Consume its flesh to obtain rare life essence
“Well, it seems your luck finally ran out,” he murmured, a tinge of disappointment lacing his voice.
Without another word, he claimed his grim trophy.
He scanned the surrounding shadows for lingering threats before retreating to a secluded corner.
Once he confirmed the area was secure, he settled into a cross-legged position and unsummoned his heavy armor.
{Sighhh…} A heavy breath escaped his lips.
and hoisted his aching, heavy arms toward the heavens.
“Finally,” he breathed, “a moment of peace.” The chaotic ordeal had ground to a halt.
Not that he resented the danger; fortune always favored the reckless, and his harvest this time was undeniably bountiful.
Sinking inward, he cast his awareness deep into his sea of consciousness.
Outwardly, the inner sanctum remained unchanged: seven radiant spheres of disparate sizes and hues rotated in a rigid cosmic dance around a brilliant golden core, bound tightly by ethereal chains.
Yet, a subtle mutation caught his eye.
The amethyst orb pulsed with a faint, defiant luminescence that contrasted sharply with its dormant peers.
The binding seals had slipped, losing their absolute grip.
This partial liberation heralded a massive breakthrough: Asterius could finally tap into the volatile, long-forbidden currents of the [Primordial Maelstrom]—granting him dominion over lightning and tempestuous gales.
He couldn’t yet fathom the catalyst for this awakening, though he suspected a structural failure within the Chains of Order.
Testing his limits, he summoned the elemental spark.
It was faint—a mere fraction of its true potential—but infinitely better than nothing.
Arcs of pale lightning hissed and danced across his left forearm, accompanied by a sudden swirl of rushing air.
“A pathetic display,” he muttered, watching the sparks sputter.
“To think a force as tyrannical and cataclysmic as the primordial maelstrom could be reduced to a parlor trick.” But contrary…
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Time to digest my gains,” he murmured.
Five minutes later, Asterius stood over a mound of brittle roots and withered leaves.
He extended his left index finger.
A crackling arc of lightning leapt from his fingertip, striking the pile and instantly engulfing it in a roaring blaze.
He watched the flames dance.
“How convenient.”
The crackle of the campfire was the only sound piercing the oppressive silence of the bat cave.
Asterius sat before the flames, his body aching from a battle that had pushed him to the absolute brink of his mortal limits.
Propped up against a moss-covered stump behind him was his prize: the shattered carapace of an epic-grade **Obsidian Ant King**.
Beside the epic-grade insect lay the crumpled form of the rare-grade bat he killed a while ago.
Using one of his throwing knives, Asterius carved into the joints of the Obsidian Ant King.
Stripping away the charred, soot-stained armor plate, he reached the prize within: the glistening, gelatinous flesh of the epic-grade beast.
This time he decided to leave little Black out.To any ordinary cultivator, this meat was a death sentence, thoroughly saturated with both the Ant King’s natural structural density and the virulent Nightshade poison.
Asterius, however, did not hesitate.
He brought a dripping, translucent hunk of the flesh to his mouth and began to eat.
As the meat slid down his throat, a searing heat bloomed in his chest.
The Nightshade toxin immediately flared to life, attempting to corrode his organs, while the sheer, untamed essence of the epic-grade beast thrashed against his meridians.
Asterius closed his eyes paying no heed to this as the Primordial Body of Chaos could neutralise and refine all sort of poisons into energy for cultivation!
Chewing slowly, his mind drifted back to the perilous battle.
He replayed the clash in his mind’s eye, dissecting every move.
He remembered the terrifying speed of the Ant King’s charging strikes, the way the ground shattered beneath its attacks, and the precise moment his own blade had chipped against its obsidian hide.
He analyzed his missteps—a delayed dodge here, an overextended thrust there.
Every near-miss was a lesson bought in blood.Even though he was once a peerless expert he didn’t let this get to his head as he contemplated the nature of the beast’s defense, realizing how close he had come to failure, and how deeply he had been forced to rely on the underhanded potency of the Nightshade.
It was a sobering reminder that he no longer had his previous cultivation and every move and plan should be executed intricately to prevent any unforseen occurrences.
Once the physical hunger was sated and the lessons of the combat were firmly etched into his consciousness, Asterius shifted his position.He acquired 8 epic essences from the ant king pushing his epic essence point to 16!.
Shocking,as he amassed them in only one day!
Solo at that !
Normally, even strong qi condensation realm warriors would have to form groups to hunt these creatures but its to be expected as he was ASTERIUS!
He pushed the remaining carcass aside, leaving the rare-grade bat for a morning ration, and crossed his legs into a lotus position.
Deep within his body, he ignited his cultivation art.
Instantly, the volatile mixture of epic-grade energy and deadly poison swirling in his stomach was seized by a localized vortex of spiritual pressure.
Rather than destroying him, the Nightshade toxin acted as a catalyst, breaking down the stubborn, dense energy of the Obsidian Ant King much faster than normal digestion ever could.
His meridians burned, expanding under the influx of raw, purified power as his cultivation art filtered out the impurities and locked the potent essence into his bones and flesh.
The fire gradually died down to a bed of glowing red embers, casting long, dancing shadows against the cave walls.
Throughout the night, Asterius remained motionless, a silhouette of absolute focus amidst the dark.
The poison was tamed and his foundation was made all the wealthier for it.