With the antidote safely tucked away in his robes, Luo Zhen led the three Poison Ant Demon Generals out of the shadowy confines of the Black Market. They moved quickly, blending into the flow of Red Rock City until they reached the relative sanctuary of Luo Zhen's inn.
Once inside the guest room, the atmosphere shifted from the chaotic bustle of the streets to a suffocating silence. Luo Zhen, draped in heavy black robes that concealed his frame, sat at the wooden table. He poured himself a cup of tea, the steam rising in lazy spirals, while the three Demon Generals stood before him in a rigid line. They were like statues carved from anxiety, their eyes fixed on the floor, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Luo Zhen finished his tea, setting the cup down with a deliberate clink that made the generals flinch. He raised his head, his gaze piercing through the shadows of his hood.
"Names," he said, his voice flat and commanding. "Let's hear them."
The three generals exchanged nervous glances, a silent communication of shared fear. Finally, the one in the center stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly.
"I am Chen Mingyu."
"I am Hou Yulin," said the one to his left.
"I am Lin Xilu," finished the third.
Luo Zhen nodded once, acknowledging the information. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a small porcelain bottle from his sleeve and placed it on the table.
"Inside this bottle are three green pills," Luo Zhen explained, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather rather than matters of life and death. "They are permanent antidotes for the Heart-Devouring Pill you were forced to consume. Take one each. Now."
The silence returned, heavier than before. The three generals stared at the bottle, but none reached for it. Their hesitation was palpable; in the cutthroat world of the Red Desert, trust was a currency that usually bought you a knife in the back.
"What?" Luo Zhen leaned back, arching an eyebrow beneath his hood. "You don't trust me?"
They didn't speak, but their rigid posture screamed their answer. Why would a stranger buy them, only to free them? It was too good to be true.
Luo Zhen chuckled, a low, dry sound. "I suppose I can't blame you. Skepticism keeps you alive. Perhaps if I explained my motives, you wouldn't look like you're about to face an executioner."
He paused, letting the words sink in. "I have a connection with the Flying Fire Poison Ant clan. Specifically, I share a certain... destiny with your Empress, Bai Susu. I purchased your freedom not to enslave you, but to return you to her."
The mention of their Empress acted like a jolt of electricity. The three generals looked up, their expressions shifting from fear to bewilderment.
"You... you truly know our Empress?" Chen Mingyu asked, his voice laced with tentative hope.
"I do," Luo Zhen replied firmly. "Quite well, in fact." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If you require proof, I recall a distinct, crimson beauty mark upon Bai Susu's chest. I imagine that is a detail not widely known among commoners, yes?"
Hou Yulin grimaced, looking away. "You really didn't need to say that. How would we know about the Empress's intimate features?"
"You lot are difficult," Luo Zhen sighed, feigning annoyance. "Giving you the cure is harder than force-feeding you poison. Enough of this."
Suddenly, the air in the room grew heavy, crushing down with the weight of a mountain. Luo Zhen unleashed his aura—the terrifying, suffocating pressure of a Half-Step Demon King. The wooden furniture groaned, and the three generals fell to their knees, trembling uncontrollably as the sheer power washed over them.
"I am done asking," Luo Zhen's voice dropped an octave, resonating with command. "Eat the pills."
Under the crushing weight of his spiritual pressure, resistance was impossible. With shaking hands, they uncorked the bottle and swallowed the green pills.
The reaction was almost immediate.
Lin Xilu's eyes went wide, his hands clutching his chest. "I... I feel it," he gasped, a smile breaking through his fear. "The restriction... the parasite... It's dissolving!"
"I feel it too!" Chen Mingyu cried out.
"Is it possible?" Hou Yulin's voice cracked. "Are we truly free of the Heart-Devouring Pill?"
Before they could celebrate, their complexions turned a sickly shade of green. Almost in unison, they bent over and retched violently, vomiting up a thick, black sludge onto the floorboards. The stench was acrid, the physical manifestation of the alchemical poison that had bound them.
But as they wiped their mouths, the pallor vanished from their faces, replaced by a healthy, ruddy glow. Their spiritual energy, once suppressed and stagnant, began to circulate freely again.
"Haha! It's gone! It's really gone!" Chen Mingyu laughed, a sound of pure liberation.
"No more pain," Lin Xilu whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "We are no longer slaves to that agony."
Caught up in their euphoria, they almost forgot the terrifying figure sitting in the chair. Remembering themselves, they hastily arranged their clothes and bowed deeply, their foreheads nearly touching the floor.
"Senior," they chanted in unison, their voices thick with emotion. "Thank you for removing the curse of the Heart-Devouring Pill. This grace is mountainous. We will never forget it, not until our teeth fall out and our bones turn to dust!"
"It was effortless on my part," Luo Zhen waved a hand dismissively, retracting his oppressive aura. "Consider it a favor to Bai Susu."
The mood in the room plummeted instantly at the mention of her name. The joy of liberation was replaced by a somber gray cloud.
Bai Susu had been besieged by the elites of the Silver Flood Dragon clan. The last reports suggested she was missing, presumed dead, and their clan was facing extinction.
Seeing their sudden despondency, Luo Zhen spoke up. "Wipe those looks off your faces. Bai Susu isn't dead."
Three heads snapped up.
"What? The Empress lives?"
"Senior, are you certain?!"
"I am," Luo Zhen said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "She was heavily injured, yes. But she has found a secluded place to recover. She is alive."
"Where?" They stepped forward urgently. "Where is she healing? We must go to her!"
Luo Zhen shook his head slowly. "That, I do not know. I can sense her life force, but her location is obscured."
He wasn't lying. His internal System—a mysterious interface that guided his cultivation—had scanned the entirety of Silver Flood Dragon Island. It had detected Bai Susu's unique biological signature, confirming her survival, but some strange interference masked her coordinates. Since the moment he heard of the ambush at the auction, he had been tracking her status. Knowing she was alive was the only reason he could sit here so calmly, sipping tea.
Relief washed over the generals.
"Alive... she is alive," Lin Xilu breathed.
"As long as the Empress draws breath, the Flying Fire Poison Ants have a future!" Chen Mingyu clenched his fist.
"We will wait for her recovery," Hou Yulin growled, his eyes burning with a new fire. "And then, we will rain destruction upon the Silver Flood Dragons."
"Save your breath and your vengeance," Luo Zhen cut in, his tone sharp. "Look at you. You are weak. Even if you marched on the Silver Flood Dragons today, you would be nothing more than appetizers. Your priority is to return to the nest, reorganize your scattered kin, and ensure the survival of your colony."
"Senior is right," Chen Mingyu admitted, deflating slightly. "Senior, you have saved our lives and restored our hope. We don't even know the face of our benefactor. Please, allow us to see you."
"Yes, Senior. Please reveal your identity."
Luo Zhen hesitated for a beat. He reached up, pulled back the hood, and removed the mask.
A relatively ordinary, youthful face was revealed. The three generals stared, their jaws dropping slightly.
"It's... the King's Man," Hou Yulin muttered, a wry smile touching his lips. "I should have known. Who else would know about the red mole? It's you."
Luo Zhen rubbed his cheek self-consciously. It seemed his reputation as Bai Susu's consort was well-established.
Suddenly, Lin Xilu took a step back, his eyes widening in shock. "Wait. Something is wrong."
"What is it?"
"When you left the nest... You were barely in the early stage of the Demon Core realm," Lin Xilu stammered, pointing a shaking finger. "How much time has passed? A few months? Yet now... You emit the pressure of a Half-Step Demon King?"
The realization hit the others like a physical blow. The jump in power was astronomically impossible. From a mere Demon General to the threshold of a King in such a short span? It defied all laws of cultivation.
"And look!" Hou Yulin pointed at Luo Zhen's forehead. "Since when did you grow a horn?"
There, right in the center of Luo Zhen's forehead, sat a small, crystalline horn resembling green jade. It shimmered with an inner light.
"You were a snake demon," Chen Mingyu whispered. "Snakes don't have horns. Unless..."
"Unless you have evolved into a Flood Dragon," Lin Xilu finished the thought.
Luo Zhen touched the jade horn. "My constitution is unique," he explained simply. "My bloodline has evolved to the Saint Rank. The horn is a byproduct, as is my rapid cultivation speed."
"Saint Rank..." The three generals looked as if they might faint.
In the Red Desert, Spirit Beasts were rare. Saint Beasts were legends, creatures of myth that stood atop the food chain.
"It makes sense," one of them murmured. "Only a Saint Beast could be worthy of our Empress."
"Alright, enough flattery," Luo Zhen interrupted. "You are cured. You are free. Now, get out. You'd only be a burden to me here."
"But Senior—"
"Go."
They hesitated, scratching their heads, realizing the harsh truth. A Half-Step Demon King had no use for three weakened generals.
"We will leave then. Take care, Senior."
"Hold on."
As they turned to the door, Luo Zhen activated his Black Gold Ring. Three sets of robes—crimson, emerald, and midnight blue—materialized in the air.
"You're conspicuous," Luo Zhen said. "Wear these. Cover your faces. It won't do for you to be captured again five minutes after I freed you."
The generals accepted the robes with profound gratitude, bowing one final time before slipping out into the night.
Left alone, Luo Zhen let out a long breath. He waved his hand over the table, and two more bottles appeared. One contained Shaoyang Pills, the other Zifu Pills. The glass reflected the hunger in his eyes.
Outside, in a shadowed alley of Red Rock City, the three newly freed generals huddled together.
"So," Chen Mingyu whispered, ensuring the coast was clear. "We are free. What now?"
"The nest is safe for the moment," Lin Xilu said. "We don't need to rush back immediately."
"I have no intention of rushing back," Hou Yulin hissed. His eyes, visible through the slit in his new robe, were cold and hard. "We were tortured. Humiliated. Do you intend to just walk away?"
"No," the others replied instantly.
"I want blood," Hou Yulin said. "I want the Black Market to bleed."
"Be realistic," Lin Xilu cautioned. "The Black Market is run by the Black Bear brothers. They are true Demon Kings. We go after them, we die."
"I'm not talking about the Kings," Hou Yulin sneered. "I'm talking about the rats who serve them. Take Bai Guang, the auctioneer. He looks human, but he's just an early Demon Core beast who took a Shaping Pill."
He looked at his companions. "You know the side effects of the Shaping Pill. It grants human form but caps cultivation forever. Bai Guang and his ilk are stagnant. Weak. We can take them."
A cruel understanding passed between them.
"A sound plan," Lin Xilu mused. "But we can do better than a frontal assault. Listen..."
In the darkness of the alley, the whispers of conspiracy grew louder.
Back in the inn, Luo Zhen ignored the world outside. He was focused on his interface, scanning the regional map.
He possessed three Shaoyang Pills and five Zifu Pills. Combined with his stockpiled experience points, he was standing on the precipice of a massive breakthrough. He wouldn't just be a Half-Step King anymore; he was about to condense his Demon Infant and become a true Demon King.
But he needed a location. Advancing to the Demon King realm wasn't a quiet affair; it created celestial disturbances, energy vortexes that would attract every predator for miles. He needed seclusion.
His eyes scanned the holographic map until they settled on a spot two hundred miles outside the city.
A chaotic pile of rocks.
It was an unremarkable geological blemish, perhaps a few thousand square meters of jagged stone and dust. No vegetation, no water, no beasts. It was the kind of place mapmakers ignored.
"Perfect," Luo Zhen murmured.
He vanished from the room, moving like a ghost through the city gates.
Fifteen minutes later, he stood before the desolate rock formation. The silence was absolute. The wind howled through the gaps in the stone, singing a lonely song.
Luo Zhen verified that the area was devoid of life. He raised his hand, and the Blue Scale Fire erupted from his palm—a terrifying, sentient flame that danced with lethal grace.
He didn't plan to sit on the rocks. He planned to go under them.
"Time to dig," he whispered.
With a surge of fire, he began to melt his way into the heart of the earth. He would carve out a tomb for his old self, and from that darkness, a Demon King would rise.