SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 101: Using Mother and Son Poison again

One day later.

The Undead Princess Zygote continued to grow—unrelenting and insatiable.

Its hunger had long surpassed the one-kilometer mark, creeping forward like an invisible plague. The once lush Emerald Green Forest, vibrant with life and mana, was now cloaked in an unnatural stillness. Grass no longer rustled. Flowers no longer bloomed. Even the wind moved cautiously, as if unwilling to disturb the slumbering horror.

The black cocoon at the center pulsed with eerie vitality. Tendrils of shadow spread slowly but steadily, draining the very breath from the earth. With every passing second, its total lifespan increased—one hundred thousand years and counting.

The number didn’t pause. It didn’t slow. It only rose, without end.

By now, nearly every remaining inhabitant of the region had come to understand one truth:

Something terrible had been born.

Panic had taken root, but there was nowhere left to run. Beyond the edges of the forest, the land had already fallen—overrun by the undead. Their eerie moans echoed through distant valleys, carried by cold, dry winds. Villages were devoured in silence. Roads vanished beneath shambling hordes. Hope scattered like ash in the wind.

And so, without realizing it, the once-forgotten Emerald Green Forest had become one of the safest places left in the kingdom.

The irony was sharp.

Warriors who had narrowly escaped the tide of corpses now crept into the forest’s inner zones, hiding among the towering trees and seeking refuge near the only beacon of relative calm.

They all saw it—the dark cocoon nestled like a curse at the center. When their eyes fell on it, their hearts would quake. Some whispered prayers, others cursed the heavens. But none dared approach it.

And none dared leave.

Because despite the looming terror, this forest was still untouched—for now.

And that was enough.

Better to live one more day in fear than die hopelessly outside.

Besides, according to whispered rumors, the Venom Fang Overlord himself was guarding this forest. His presence, even if unconfirmed, was enough to anchor their will.

It gave them something to believe in.

Something to cling to.

But what they didn’t know... was that the Overlord they were depending on?

He was already gone.

Long gone—his trail erased in the wake of rising darkness.

And as the cocoon pulsed once more, laughter—low, childlike, and wrong—echoed faintly in the air.

Ricky returned to Saint Selene Veylor’s Inheritance Ground with a single thought echoing in his mind:

If the Zygote wanted him to prepare... he would prepare thoroughly.

No fear. No hesitation. Only resolve.

The world outside was on the verge of spiraling into chaos, and he had no intention of sitting idle.

The moment he stepped back into the ancient, mist-wreathed chamber of divine knowledge, the heavy silence of the inheritance space welcomed him like an old friend. Golden runes floated lazily in the air, the eternal echoes of forgotten wisdom dancing in the stillness.

His first destination was the crystal cocoon chamber where Dark Shadow and Alexandria lay in suspended healing.

Their condition had changed—barely, but noticeably.

Their bodies no longer looked as withered and drained as before. A faint luster shimmered beneath their skin, and their shallow breathing was steadier. The aura around them was slowly stabilizing.

But even with this improvement, they were far from recovered.

Concern flickered in Ricky’s eyes.

Too much time had passed already.

He turned to the ever-watchful Guardian Spirit, the feminine figure sculpted from starlight and flowing light-mist. Her ethereal presence rippled gently, and without needing to ask, she understood his question.

"Their very essence—their bloodline itself—is undergoing refinement," she explained in a soft, musical voice. "Such a transformation is not superficial. Their foundations are being rebuilt. That’s why it takes time."

Hearing this, Ricky finally let out a faint sigh of relief. As long as it wasn’t dangerous, he could wait.

He gave both of them a long look—especially Dark Shadow, the silent companion who had stood by him through so much—before stepping back.

There was work to do.

And he didn’t intend to waste another second.

"Give me a list of alchemical recipes," Ricky instructed. "Ones that can rapidly increase spiritual force."

The Guardian Spirit nodded, and a scroll materialized mid-air. Runes flickered to life on its surface, illuminating dozens of complex formulas—some ancient, some forgotten, and some forbidden.

But that wasn’t the main reason he had returned.

Not today.

Today was about taking control.

And that led him to his next command, delivered in a voice as cold as winter steel:

"Guardian Spirit... bring the Prince of the Eldros Kingdom here."

His compound eyes glinted with a chilling clarity.

It was time.

Time to use the Mother and Son Poison.

Noctyss had been the first. An unwilling pawn transformed into something greater. A thorn bent to his will.

And now?

The Prince of Eldros would be the second.

Another string in his growing web of influence.

Another piece on the board.

This wasn’t a decision made in a moment of anger or ambition. It had been weighed carefully. Strategized. Calculated.

Ricky didn’t care about rank or bloodline—but information was power, and few in this world held more knowledge about the internal workings of the Eldros Kingdom than its own prince.

If he was going to strike at the heart of the continent’s chaos someday...

He needed someone like this under his control.

As Ricky’s thoughts swirled like a storm, the space in front of him rippled and twisted unnaturally.

A moment later, the air split open with a faint hiss, and from that distortion emerged a figure, wrapped tightly in black magic threads—like a cursed mummy bound in enchanted chains.

The aura it gave off was chilling, dangerous, and restrained.

Even before Ricky could study it further, a soft shimmer in the corner of his vision caught his attention.

The Guardian Spirit appeared once again.

Her appearance hadn’t changed—the same silvery-white hair cascading down her back, and those unmistakable amethyst eyes, gleaming like twin gemstones beneath a moonlit sky.

But her outfit had.

Gone was the regal, ceremonial robe she typically wore. Now, she was clad in a simple black one-piece dress, its fabric hugging her figure just enough to accentuate her ethereal presence.

Her bare, milky-white legs, pale as snow and smooth as sculpted porcelain, peeked out from beneath the short hemline. The faint shimmer of divine essence danced over her skin like moonlight over fresh snow.

For some inexplicable reason, Ricky felt drawn to them.

His compound eyes lingered a moment too long. A strange tug stirred inside him—foreign, unfamiliar, and deeply distracting.

It took every ounce of his will to force his gaze away, the tips of his antennae twitching awkwardly.

Thankfully, she either didn’t notice... or purposefully chose not to react.

The reason behind her new outfit wasn’t clear.

And frankly, Ricky didn’t care to ask. Not right now.

He had more pressing matters to deal with.

"Master," the Guardian Spirit’s voice drifted through the silence like the notes of a wind chime. "What are you going to do with him?"

She gestured toward the bound prince, her gaze calm but curious.

Her voice carried genuine intrigue.

After all, this wasn’t some common cultivator or expendable soldier.

This was a Stage 3 royal.

A member of the Eldros Kingdom’s ruling bloodline.

Someone who, once released, could turn even a monster like Ricky into a stain on the floor—if only for a few seconds.

But Ricky didn’t answer.

He refused to meet her gaze again, worried his thoughts would stray to places they shouldn’t.

Instead, he focused on what truly mattered.

A blue system prompt appeared before him:

---

[Use 100,000 years of lifespan to reset the cooldown of the skill: Mother and Son Poison?]

---

Ricky paused.

The number wasn’t small. If he accepted, his remaining lifespan would drop to 400,009 years.

That was dangerously close to the critical threshold he had set for himself.

One misstep and it could spiral.

But... he had no choice.

This moment had been building for a long time, and the prince’s presence here was an opportunity too great to pass up.

He couldn’t afford to wait for the skill to reset on its own.

"Do it."

He confirmed.

Instantly, he felt a jolt travel through his spiritual core. His entire body trembled as an immense portion of his essence was forcefully torn away.

His vision dimmed momentarily, and a wave of crushing weakness washed over him.

His wings threatened to buckle. His heart slowed. His breath felt heavier than stone.

But Ricky didn’t flinch.

He gritted his mandibles and endured it all.

Because as the last trace of vitality was drained—

The cooldown shattered.

And the skill that would reshape the kingdom’s future was finally ready.

Ricky didn’t hesitate anymore.

His compound eyes gleamed with unwavering resolve as he straightened his proboscis, the slender organ twitching slightly with anticipation.

With a low hum of energy, he stepped forward.

The black cocoon of magical threads that wrapped around Darius’s body pulsed faintly—each strand laced with potent restriction spells, but they weren’t strong enough to hold back Ricky.

Not now.

Not when he had come this far.

With a sharp thrust, his proboscis pierced clean through the cocoon and sank into the prince’s flesh with a sickening yet precise squelch.

The black bindings offered little resistance. Darius’s body, restrained and subdued for so long, couldn’t muster any defense.

And then, with surgical control, Ricky injected the Mother and Son Poison.

A faint hiss whispered through the air as the venom surged into Darius’s bloodstream—an ancient, spiritual toxin, invisible to the naked eye, yet powerful enough to forge eternal chains.

The moment it entered his veins, the temperature in the room dropped.

Ricky’s gaze remained fixed on the prince, his mind calm, but alert.

There was no turning back now.

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