The Beginning of Poison Devouring

In the dark seafloor, Jingtian clung to the corpse of the giant lobster-like soul beast, the suckers at the ends of his tentacles tightly attached to its cold, hard shell.

He did not begin devouring it immediately. The caution inherited from his human soul and the instinctive danger sense of a soul beast both warned him that the brief but deadly clash just now had caused quite a disturbance. In this food-scarce deep sea, the scent of blood and death was the most conspicuous beacon.

He forced himself to remain still and slowly spread out the Mental Power that had only recently been born, so different from Soul Power. It was a peculiar sensory force closer to his poisonous nature, like an invisible web with a sticky texture, covering dozens of meters around him.

Within his perception, there was only slowly flowing seawater and faint particles of energy. Farther away were several weak life signatures, but they carried obvious wariness and hesitation, lingering at the edge of his range without daring to approach. The Soul Power eruption from that predator before its death, along with the lingering terrifying poisonous aura, had clearly provided sufficient intimidation.

Temporarily safe. But this corpse... I can't stay here for long.

Jingtian turned his attention back to the prey beneath him. His memories told him that the most direct way for soul beasts to grow stronger was by devouring the life essence and Soul Power of other soul beasts. But this corpse was far larger than he was and contained considerable energy. Swallowing it whole was clearly unrealistic, and digesting it would take a long time.

He needed to find a more efficient method.

His tentacles moved across the shell before finally stopping on the dimmed dark-blue poison patterns. The shell there seemed to have become somewhat brittle from the toxin's corrosion. Jingtian tried gathering the little Toxic Energy he had just recovered into the sucker of one tentacle.

He carefully controlled the energy output. Rather than erupting outward, it slowly seeped and adhered to the shell like acid.

Sizzle...

An incredibly faint sound of corrosion rang out. Where the energy touched, the hard shell visibly softened and caved in, until a hole the size of a grain of rice appeared. Energy several times purer and denser than seawater, mixed with the aura of life essence, escaped from the opening.

Jingtian's spirits rose. It worked! And even more smoothly than he had expected. The corrosive power of this energy seemed to possess extraordinary Penetration and decomposition abilities against Soul Power and biological tissue.

He no longer hesitated. He immediately aimed the feeding mouthpart on his tentacle—a circular opening hidden at the roots of his tentacles and ringed with fine serrated teeth—at the small hole and pressed it tightly against it.

The next moment, a vast and slightly violent stream of energy, as if it had found an outlet, surged into his body!

Jingtian shuddered from head to toe. The sensation was extremely strange. It was not merely the feeling of being full; every cell in his body seemed to cry out with ravenous hunger, madly absorbing and transforming the foreign power. His body slowly grew at an almost imperceptible rate, while the blue rings on his tentacles seemed to brighten slightly.

More importantly, aside from the pure Soul Power, he sensed a familiar residual poison—the very energy he had injected into the predator's body when he killed it. This portion was even purer. After returning to his body, it swiftly merged into his Poison Source, replenishing what he had expended and seemingly improving the quality of that Poison Source by an imperceptible degree.

Devouring can not only increase my Soul Power cultivation, but also reclaim and strengthen my poison? The discovery secretly delighted Jingtian. It meant that his path of growth might be twofold: cultivation would strengthen his foundation, while strengthening his poison would give him the ability to kill enemies above his level.

He immersed himself in the thrill of rapidly growing stronger, but he did not lower his guard. That unique sensory ability remained active, like a hidden sentry in the deep sea, monitoring every movement around him.

Time passed second by second. Energy was continuously drawn from the corpse, while visible changes occurred in Jingtian's body. From its original palm-sized form, it grew to nearly the size of a washbasin. Its tentacles became thicker and more powerful, and their blue ring patterns grew increasingly clear and beautiful, even giving off a faint glow in the dim seafloor. Meanwhile, the Poison Source within its body grew from a weak flicker into a cluster of steadily burning dark-blue flames, concealing frightening power. At the same time, a gentler, more balanced energy distinct from the Poison Source slowly emerged and circulated within its body—it was this world's orthodox power: Soul Power. Though still very weak, far less condensed and strange than the Poison Source, it truly existed and steadily increased with the devouring process.

After an unknown amount of time, when the final strand of energy was drawn into his body, the enormous shell beneath him completely lost its luster. It turned grayish-white and brittle, as though it had weathered for countless years. With the slightest touch, it shattered into several large pieces and slowly drifted away with the undercurrent.

Jingtian released his mouthpart and slowly stretched his eight tentacles. A sense of fullness and power flooded his entire body. Soul Power coursed through him. Though there was not much of it, it brought an entirely different sensation—a solid strength closer to the fundamental rules of this world.

Cultivation... He carefully sensed the changes in his Soul Power. Based on the memories he had fused with, a newly born soul beast possessed weak Soul Power, roughly equivalent to a few years of cultivation. Judging by its size and residual Soul Power, the predator that had attacked him should have been a century-old Spiny-Armored Crayfish Beast. In this barren sea region, it had been a minor overlord that specialized in seeking out vulnerable newborn spirit creatures. Yet Jingtian had relied on the lethal, level-crossing nature of his innate poison to accomplish an unbelievable counterkill.

After devouring most of that century-old soul beast's essence, his Soul Power cultivation had increased significantly.

I should... have several decades of cultivation now? Jingtian made a rough estimate. Leaping directly from a few years after birth to several decades was already astonishing. Soul beasts measured their growth in centuries, after all. He had practically gotten a cheat-like head start. Moreover, a large amount of energy remained undigested within him and would continue transforming into cultivation over the coming period.

He swam around. He was still not particularly fast, but he was much more nimble than he had been at birth, and his control over the currents came more naturally. He tried mobilizing the dark-blue Poison Source within him. A nearly imperceptible blue gleam flashed at the tip of a tentacle, and a small patch of seawater nearby instantly filled with fine bubbles. Several floating microorganisms immediately stiffened and lost all vitality. Next, he tried mobilizing his newly formed Soul Power. A pale, almost invisible white glow appeared over his tentacles, noticeably increasing the speed at which he propelled himself forward.

Both the intensity and control of my poison have improved. Soul Power has also formed initially, though it's only at the level of several decades. Jingtian assessed himself. If he faced that century-old Spiny-Armored Crayfish Beast again, he might no longer need to risk his life and exhaust his origin. He would have more room to maneuver and even a more reliable chance of poisoning it to death. But against true soul beasts several centuries old, or even a thousand years old, danger still lurked everywhere.

He knew this was far from enough. A soul beast with several decades of cultivation was still an ant that true deep-sea powerhouses and continent soul masters could crush at will. He needed a safer environment. He needed to learn more about this sea region and this era. He needed to continue growing, and he also needed to... begin considering that distant, heavy goal.

Looking around, the seabed remained desolate. The remnants of the corpse had already drifted away, leaving only dust after all its energy had completely dissipated. This was no place to remain.

Where should he go?

Jingtian calmed himself and carefully recalled the soul beast memories he had fused with. This sea region lay in the distant waters west of Douluo Continent, a considerable distance from the continental shelf. In those memories, the area was known as the Western Silent Sea Abyss. Resources were scarce, and powerful soul beasts were few, but dangerous predators and communities of small soul beasts were tangled together in a complex web. Competition for survival was exceptionally brutal. The mother of this Blue-Ringed Octopus body had apparently been one of the ordinary thousand-year soul beasts struggling to survive in this region. In the end, something unknown had happened to her, and only this clutch of eggs remained.

There was also a vague direction in his memories—a nest where the mother had lived for a long time. It was a natural stone cave deep within a crack in the seabed, with a concealed entrance and a complex interior. Easy to defend and hard to attack, it had once been a relatively safe place for the mother to evade powerful enemies and nurture her offspring.

I'll go there. Jingtian made his decision. A ready-made nest that was relatively familiar to him was the best choice at this stage.

After identifying the direction—soul beast instinct gave him a natural sense of direction and currents—he slowly swam toward the location in his memories.

As he swam, he continued experimenting with and sensing the powers within his body. Beyond poison and Soul Power, he discovered that his perception of the thin, homogenous energy permeating the seawater—something he temporarily called Spirit Energy—had become clearer as well. His body was instinctively and slowly absorbing this Spirit Energy. Though far less efficient than directly devouring the essence of soul beasts, it was constant, required no combat, and seemed to subtly nourish both his Poison Source and Soul Power. He vaguely felt that this Spirit Energy was the most fundamental strange aspect produced by the union of his transmigrated soul and this body. Soul Power was more like an external manifestation of Spirit Energy under this world's rules, while poison was a special gift produced by Spirit Energy combining with the traits of this Blue-Ringed Octopus body.

Spirit Energy, the origin... Soul Power, the manifestation of rules... poison, the gift of traits... As Jingtian swam, he silently sorted through his thoughts. This seemed to be a complex and unique path. Traditional soul beasts relied on accumulated years to build Soul Power, but perhaps he could forge a special evolutionary path with Spirit Energy as the foundation, Soul Power as the means, and poison as the blade.

Ahead, rolling rocky hills and trenches gradually appeared across the dim seafloor. According to his memories, the nest lay deep in an inconspicuous crack within one of those trenches.

Jingtian raised his guard. He pushed that unique sensory ability to its limit and carefully scanned the surroundings. He saw several furtive, pipa-shaped bony soul beasts peering from between the rocks. He also sensed a Hagfish lurking beneath the sand, its Soul Power fluctuation at roughly several decades. These soul beasts all revealed instinctive wariness and a trace of fear toward him. That fear came more from the faint poisonous aura within him, which made their souls tremble, than from his several decades of Soul Power.

He ignored these minor creatures and swam straight toward the crack from his memories.

The crack's entrance was narrow, allowing only several people to pass side by side. Inside, it was deep and winding, and the light almost completely vanished. But this was no obstacle to Jingtian, who possessed special perception and some degree of night vision. Guided by his memories, he moved through the maze-like passages with ease, avoiding several natural traps and undercurrent vortices.

At last, he reached the deepest part of the crack.

A natural stone cave about half the size of a basketball court appeared before his perception. Stalactite-like minerals that emitted faint phosphorescence hung from the ceiling, providing barely sufficient light. At the center was a relatively flat patch of sand, while the surrounding rock walls were filled with holes and crevices of varying sizes. The water was permeated with the faint, nearly vanished aura of the mother from this body's past, as well as a... more ancient, heavier, strange fluctuation.

Jingtian's gaze—his perception—instantly locked onto one side of the cave wall. There was an inconspicuous vertical crack there, and that strange fluctuation faintly came from deep within it.

He swam closer to the crack and sent his perception inside. There seemed to be another space within, not very large, but the fluctuation became clearer—a pure, ancient residual aura carrying dense poison and peculiar energy properties! It was as though something containing deadly poison and special energy had once dwelled here for a very long time, its aura seeping deep into the stone.

Jingtian's heart stirred. Had the mother chosen this place as her nest not merely because it was concealed, but because she had sensed an environment suitable for Blue-Ringed Octopuses—or rather, suitable for cultivating poison and that special energy?

He extended a tentacle and gently touched the rock at the edge of the crack. It felt cold, but a faint resonance seemed to come from within the stone, answering the Poison Source and the origin Spirit Energy within him from afar.

Looks like I've found a treasure ground. Jingtian steadied himself. The residual aura here would undoubtedly accelerate his absorption of energy and the nurturing of his Poison Source and Soul Power. It might even help him better understand his own strength.

He retreated to the sandy ground at the center of the cave and began making cautious preparations. He mobilized his Poison Source and left extremely faint poisonous aura marks at several of the cave's main entrance holes, marks that carried a powerful warning and repelling effect. They would continuously emit an aura that low-level soul beasts instinctively feared, forming an invisible warning line. As for the passage leading to the strange crack, he fortified it with particular care, covering the entrance with a thin, viscous membrane of Toxic Energy that could both conceal and defend it.

Only after finishing all that did Jingtian truly relax. He settled his soft body in the center of the sandy ground. His eight tentacles naturally stretched out and gently pulsed, instinctively absorbing the energy within the cave, which was far denser than outside. It was not merely Soul Power; thread after thread of aura similar to his origin Spirit Energy, yet older and more concentrated, seeped out from that crack.

The deep sea was silent. Only energy flowed soundlessly.

Within this hidden nest, the newborn Blue-Ringed Octopus ended his turbulent first day after hatching. He now possessed several decades of cultivation, lethal poison, newly formed Soul Power, a relatively safe stronghold, and a vague yet promising path of growth.

Yet deep within his consciousness, the memories of the transmigrator remained clear:

Tang San had already become a god. The story of the continent was about to advance according to its "script." Ten thousand years from now, the fate of soul beasts would move toward that predetermined ending.

The dark-blue rings on his tentacles flickered beneath the faint phosphorescent light of the cave.

His poison scheme had dived deep here. Devouring had only just begun; laying the groundwork would still take time.

But the seed had already been planted.