Whale speech

The Deep Sea Demon Whale swam as slowly as a snail, hampered by his grievous injuries. Jingtian had to expand the range of "Guixu Assimilation," doing his best to conceal the disturbances in the water and faint scent of blood that inevitably accompanied the enormous creature's movements. He chose an extremely circuitous route, deliberately seeking out complex stretches of sea where soul power ran wild, undercurrents surged, or natural soul power interference offered concealment, minimizing the chance of pursuit.

Mo Yuan—so named by Jingtian because his scales gleamed like ink-dark jade in the dim light—was an immense, moving mountain of bleeding flesh. Every labored stroke tugged at his wounds, drawing muffled groans of pain. Jingtian's Ninth Tentacle continuously released gentle, quiescent energy, barely stabilizing the injuries but unable to stop his life force from draining away. He knew he had to find somewhere sufficiently secluded and relatively safe as soon as possible, somewhere this colossal beast could catch his breath. Otherwise, Mo Yuan might not last much longer.

"Hold on. We're almost there." Jingtian conveyed soothing thoughts through spirit energy while keeping a wary sense of his surroundings. His so-called "safe place" was actually little more than a vague notion—the Seafloor Hydrothermal Fissure Cluster at the junction of two enormous ocean trenches, which he had sensed from afar during his flight. High temperatures, crushing pressure, sulfurous gases, and chaotic energy fields could effectively interfere with most detection methods, while the complex terrain offered concealment and defensible positions. With Jingtian's poison resistance, that environment was nothing to worry about, but it was hardly an ideal place for a grievously wounded Demon Whale to recover. Still, they had no other choice.

Just as they were about to reach the hydrothermal region, Mo Yuan, who had silently endured his pain all this time, turned his enormous head slightly toward Jingtian. A weak soul fluctuation, carrying an ancient, weighty cadence, slowly reached him.

"Mighty... mighty... benefactor... thank... thank you..." His thoughts came in broken fragments, laden with pain, but their meaning was clear. He plainly possessed considerable intelligence. His form of address had also changed to the more reverent "benefactor."

"It was little trouble." Jingtian replied with calm thoughts, revealing little emotion. "Can you tell me what happened? Why were those sharks and humans hunting you?"

Mo Yuan fell silent for a moment, seemingly gathering his strength or hesitating. After a while, a clearer thought reached Jingtian, steeped in deeper grief and fury. "It is... a slaughter... those... traitors—the Demon Soul Great White Sharks... colluded with... the humans of Sea God Island... to... systematically... hunt down... my clan..."

"Your clan? What is their situation now?" Jingtian guided the conversation.

Mo Yuan's thoughts fluctuated violently, filled with helplessness and despair. "The clan... scattered... the elders... are being... personally hunted... by several... supreme human experts... wielding... huge glowing forks... elders have already... fallen... we... are completely... outmatched..."

"Huge glowing forks..." Jingtian's heart tightened. As expected, Sea God Island's strongest figures had personally taken action—at least Super Douluos, perhaps even someone at the High Priest's level, armed with a divine artifact. That was a level he absolutely could not contend with now.

"And... many other clansmen... like me..." Mo Yuan continued, his voice growing more sorrowful. "Our... strength... is below the hundred-thousand-year level... those... human experts... without forks... but just as... vicious... lead... sharks... to hunt us everywhere... some of my clansmen... have soul power... equivalent only to... human... Soul Douluos... or even... Soul Saints... surrounded by those... humans and ambushed by sharks... we have suffered... terrible casualties..."

His enormous eyes turned toward Jingtian, a final, faint flicker of almost desperate hope kindling within them. "Benefactor... you... are so powerful... your poison... could defeat even those... savage shark leaders... in an instant... could you... save... them? Save... my... clansmen... who are being... hunted... by human Soul Douluos and Soul Saints leading sharks?"

His plea was exceedingly clear, and exceedingly "practical"—he asked only for the rescue of clansmen below the hundred-thousand-year level who were being hunted by Sea God Island's lower- and middle-tier forces: Soul Douluos, Soul Saints, and the teams they led. He did not, and dared not, request any confrontation with Titled Douluos, especially those wielding "huge glowing forks." He knew that was unrealistic, that it would ask the impossible and bury their only hope.

This was exactly what Jingtian wanted! Clear targets, highly manageable risks! With his current strength at the early ninety-thousand-year level, Dan-Devour, and his many sinister poison techniques, he stood an extremely high chance of defeating hunting squads led by Soul Douluos through ambushes and use of the terrain, with minimal risk to himself. This was the ideal way to "farm reputation" and "build up his assets."

But Jingtian did not agree immediately. He needed to maximize the value of this "salvation," making Mo Yuan and those he would rescue in the future clearly understand the "weight" and "price" of this "kindness."

"Save them?" Jingtian's thoughts carried just the right hint of "deliberation" and "assessment," even a trace of faint "detachment." "Mo Yuan, you should understand that I have no prior grudge against Sea God Island or those sharks. Saving you was already an exception. My poison and my power are not meant for charity."

He paused, his thoughts turning cold and pragmatic, like a frigid deep-sea current. "If you want me to keep opposing a force like Sea God Island for the sake of your clansmen, even if I only deal with their lackeys... I need a reason. A reason compelling enough for me to willingly risk becoming Sea God Island's sworn enemy to save a group of... deep-sea beasts who have no ties to me."

Mo Yuan's enormous body shuddered violently, tearing open his wounds and spilling more dark blood. He understood the meaning beneath Jingtian's words—he wanted payment, a pledge, to bind their fate completely to his interests. This was no simple "plea for rescue." It was a bargain struck in despair, with the entire clan's remaining strength as its stake.

A long time passed. As they slowly sank into the chaotic energy fields on the outskirts of the Hydrothermal Vent Fissure Field, surrounded by heat and sulfurous fumes, Mo Yuan's thoughts reached him again. This time, they were weightier, clearer, and carried the resolve of one who had smashed his boats and burned every bridge behind him.

"Benefactor... I... Mo Yuan... outpost elder of the Deep Sea Demon Whale Clan... swear... by the soul of the deep sea... and the names of our ancestors..."

"If... you... are willing... to act... and save... my clansmen... who are being... hunted... by human Soul Douluos, Soul Saints... and their lackeys..."

"I... Mo Yuan... and... every clansman... you save... will... acknowledge you as our master! Offer up... our soul marks! Become... the most loyal... servants and blades... under your command!"

"The... secrets of the deep sea we know... mineral deposits... clues to ancient ruins... our... remaining... strength... will all... belong to you!"

"We ask only... that you... tear open... a sliver... through which we can survive... in this abyss of despair! Let us... have... a chance... to take revenge... on those traitors and humans!"

Acknowledge you as our master! Offer up our soul marks! Become your servants and blades!

This pledge carried countless times more weight than any riches or hollow friendship! It meant surrendering their independence and freedom entirely, entrusting their clan's future completely to this powerful, sinister "Poison Lord" whose aims remained unknown!

Yet only this could possibly move a cold, profit-driven powerhouse. Mo Yuan understood perfectly: if they did not offer everything, if they did not demonstrate absolute submission and value, why should Jingtian take risks for them?

Jingtian's thoughts remained as still as an ancient well, but deep inside, he was very pleased. This was precisely the result he wanted—to present terms the other party could not refuse when they were at their most desperate and helpless, securing the most complete allegiance.

He neither accepted the oath immediately nor appeared too eager. He needed to maintain the reserve and inscrutability of a "powerhouse," and make this "allegiance" seem even harder won.

"Mo Yuan," Jingtian's thoughts regained their calm, carrying the indifference of someone who held the entire situation in his grasp. "Your oath carries great weight. But it is too early to speak of 'acknowledging a master' and 'soul marks.' I need to see your sincerity, and I also need to see... value worth investing in."

"First, you need to survive and regain some strength. This environment is harsh, but secluded enough. You will recover here, and I will establish defenses."

"Second," Jingtian's thoughts sharpened, assuming a commanding tone that brooked no argument, "I need intelligence. The exact locations and conditions of every clansman you can contact who is being hunted by Soul Douluos, Soul Saints, and their squads, along with detailed numbers and strength assessments of their pursuers. Remember, all of them. Not a single omission. But only make contact. Give no instructions to act, and above all, do not reveal my existence or our location."

"Then I will decide which ones can be saved, and which... cannot." Jingtian's thoughts were icy and cruel. "Our strength is limited. We must put it where the blade meets the edge. Trying to rescue clansmen doomed to die surrounded, or those who would draw enemies we cannot handle, would be foolish. Do you understand?"

Pain flickered in Mo Yuan's enormous eyes, but he laboriously, firmly nodded his huge head. He understood that his benefactor was stating the cruelest reality. They would save those they could; those beyond saving could only be... abandoned. It was the only way to preserve their last surviving strength and that faint hope of revenge.

"I... understand..." Mo Yuan's thoughts choked with emotion. "I will... use a secret art... to contact them carefully... report... truthfully... everything... will be... yours to decide..."

"Good." At last, a trace of almost cruel "approval" emerged in Jingtian's thoughts. "Tell me once you have gathered the intelligence. I will assess it, then decide... on the first target."

"As for 'acknowledging a master' and 'soul marks'..." Jingtian's Ninth Tentacle gently brushed the edge of Mo Yuan's wound, carrying a cold, irresistible implication. "We can discuss those after we save the first group of your clansmen, after they willingly offer their loyalty, and after I confirm your 'value.'"

"For now, your tasks are to survive, contact your clansmen, gather intelligence, and then... await my orders."

"As for those Sea God Island lackeys and white sharks hunting you..."

Killing intent spread through Jingtian's thoughts like a tangible, freezing current.

"They will soon discover that it is time for hunter and prey to trade places."

With that, Jingtian said no more. He guided Mo Yuan into an enormous, relatively "calm" stone cavern deep within the Hydrothermal Vent Fissure Field, then mixed his poison power with the surrounding sulfurous substances to lay a simple poison barrier at the entrance for concealment and early warning.

After settling Mo Yuan in, Jingtian found a corner nearby and coiled himself there. Rather than continue recovering, he pushed his perception to its limits, remaining alert for any presence that might follow their trail while rapidly calculating his next moves.

Hunting squads led by Soul Douluos and Soul Saints... with his current strength and Dan-Devour's uncanny nature, combined with ambushes and favorable terrain, he was highly confident he could annihilate them without a sound and save the Demon Whales they pursued.

Every whale he saved would give him another powerful fighter profoundly grateful to him, perhaps even compelled—or willing—to submit.

Every squad he annihilated would weaken Sea God Island a little, deepen its hatred a little, and buy him more time to recover and develop.

More importantly, this method would allow him to quickly establish an irreplaceable image and authority as a "savior" among the Deep Sea Demon Whale Clan, which stood on the brink of collapse.

As for those Demon Whale elders over the hundred-thousand-year level who were being hunted by Sea God Island's Titled Douluos... Jingtian sneered inwardly. They were neither his responsibility nor within his ability to save. He would make Mo Yuan abandon all contact with them, lest they draw the flames onto themselves.

Those he could save, he would save and turn to his own use.

Those he could not, he would abandon and watch with cold eyes.

This was the way to survive in troubled times, to snatch chestnuts from the fire... the way to stay alive.

Quietly, the hunting grounds of the deep sea changed their rules.

And the new hunter had already aligned his venomous fangs, waiting only for the first "menu" to arrive.