Chapter 18: Poison King
Chapter 18: Poison King
“This standoff won’t solve anything.”
“The Poison King could come at any time. Even with your skill, you’re no match for him. Let’s stop fighting now and settle things after dealing with him.” The tall, thin middle-aged man spoke gravely. At the mention of Poison King, fear flashed across all three men’s faces.
Poison King?
Zuo Meng glanced at them and sheathed his Long Sword.
These three posed no real threat to his current strength. He could kill them before they attacked if he wanted. What intrigued him was the Poison King mentioned by the thin man. Earlier, he’d noticed poisoned animal carcasses along the path. Clearly, a poison master lurked in these woods. Fierce Tiger Stronghold’s “One in a million” had no rules—survival was all that mattered, poison included.
“Poison King’s the strongest in Southwest tribes. His unique poisons have no cure—victims always die!”
“Had I known he’d come, I’d never have joined this competition!”
The other two chimed in, voices trembling with dread.
“Move out. More are coming.”
Zuo Meng’s sharp senses detected approaching figures.
The group vanished into the jungle.
Minutes later, a barefoot man with giant gourd arrived, green mist swirling around him. He crouched by the dwarf youth Zuo Meng had killed, examining the wound.
“One-stroke kill!”
His grating voice scraped the air. Standing up, he rasped, “Swordsman? Doesn’t matter.”
When his hand left the corpse, white smoke erupted from the body. Within seconds, only bubbling pus remained.
“Few left alive now.”
The Poison King sniffed twice, then stalked toward Zuo Meng’s group.
Emerging from jungle, the four found more carcasses—over five hundred beasts and humans, all poisoned. Thick toxic fumes hung over the rotting heap.
“All poisoned!”
“This makes five groups I’ve seen. Poison King’s killed nearly eight thousand beasts. Most entrants are dead.” The thin man looked grim.
One in a million!
Every survivor was an enemy. Their temporary alliance against Poison King would shatter once he fell.
“Poison here’s this powerful?”
Zuo Meng studied the corpses. Such mass poisoning felt fantastical. When he’d stolen dust powder from Heifeng Zhai, he’d sensed this world’s martial might surpassed Liuhe Sect’s disciples’ capabilities. His old assumptions had been naive—perception shifts with experience. That green-robed elder at Heifeng Zhai had exuded overwhelming power with one palm strike, yet was merely first-class here. What horrors might top-tier experts wield?
“Thirty-five years’ energy isn’t enough. I’d die in direct clash… but there’s a way.”
Law chains materialized in Zuo Meng’s vision.
“Return ten years’ energy.”
His power dwindled as eight years’ worth condensed at his fingertips. Through prior experiments, he’d found he could convert energy like game respec—some loss, but manageable.
“Boost poison resistance.” Zooming into law chains, he saw human-shaped figures bound by microscopic chains—laws governing life, death, elements. Only creators understood these. Ancient legends spoke of those severing chains to escape Three Realms and Five Elements.
“This one.”
He tweaked a hair-thin chain. Energy drained as mystic force flooded his veins.
Poison resistance: Advanced!
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Danger spiked. Zuo Meng slapped ground, launching backward. His three companions scattered—green dart embedded where they’d stood, earth blackening around it.
“Found you rats! Your deaths make me victor.”
Gourd-bearing figure emerged from shadows.
“Poison King!”
The thin man paled. The other two bolted into dark woods—only to scream moments later.
“Traps and poison surround us.” Poison King’s raspy gaze fell on remaining duo. “Will you…”
“DIE!”
The thin man exploded into motion, robe swirling open to unleash hidden weapons.
“Storm Barrage!”
Thousands of needles sprayed like metallic rain, targeting both Poison King and Zuo Meng. No allies here—only one would survive.