SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 164: miracle

Unknown to him, every cycle of destruction and reconstruction was not meaningless repetition. With each collapse and rebirth, his control over the spiraling forces sharpened, reaching a level of precision he had never touched before.

Destruction. Reconstruction.

The endless rhythm hammered into him like the beat of a war drum, wearing down his will yet tempering it at the same time.

At last—after what felt like an eternity suspended in torment—Ricky found himself in a state where he could halt the violent pull of the spiritual forces just before they collided. His consciousness flickered like a candle in the storm, hazy and unsteady, but he endured.

He lifted his gaze toward the floating spirals within his inner world. They revolved in eerie silence, massive and resplendent, their glow illuminating the vast emptiness like stars suspended in an eternal night. His face darkened, grave and weary.

One mistake... and that would have been the end of me.

"It’s as if each of my spiritual spaces is a star of its own," Ricky muttered, voice hoarse and low, as though speaking to himself kept his mind anchored. His eyes reflected the faint radiance of the spirals circling in the void. "The greater their size, the stronger their attractive force... and the greater the danger."

Nearly ninety-nine percent of his remaining spiritual force was devoted to restraining them, locking their violent attraction in a fragile balance. He could feel the tension in every thread of his being, like standing at the center of a collapsing world with his bare hands pressed against its cracking walls.

He knew he could not last forever. Something—anything—had to change.

But above all, there was the rune. That single, alien mark that had inscribed itself into his spiritual space like a scar across the heavens. Its appearance marked the beginning of his turmoil, the fracture that disrupted everything he had built.

Ricky’s lips tightened. If I can’t understand that rune, I’ll never stabilize this chaos.

Closing his eyes, he pulled his awareness back, retreating from the storm of his inner world into the silence of the isolated chamber within the inheritance space.

In the material realm, his body sat cross-legged, unmoving, locked in deep meditation. His skin glistened faintly with sweat, and each breath escaped his lips as a thin mist in the cool, stagnant air.

Around him, darkness mana thickened, so concentrated it had begun condensing into droplets. They shimmered with a strange, liquid sheen before falling to the floor in soft splashes, pooling into faint streams that crawled across the ground like living shadows. The chamber itself seemed to pulse with a quiet dread, as though the darkness had gained awareness and was waiting for his command.

The moment Ricky’s eyes opened, the guarding spirit appeared before him—her form coalescing out of faint silver mist. Her long, silvery hair drifted as though caught in a phantom breeze, and her luminous eyes narrowed instinctively when they met his.

Something about him was... different.

Her gaze sharpened. From his body emanated a faint aura—strange, yet deeply familiar. It brushed against the edges of her memory like a half-forgotten dream, stirring echoes of something she had once encountered long ago. Yet, no matter how she reached for it, the memory slipped away like water through her fingers.

Not willing to linger on the unease, she lowered her voice and greeted him with a softness she had never shown before:

"Welcome back, Master."

Her words chimed like warm bells on a spring wind, gentle and soothing, each note carrying a warmth that subtly wrapped itself around the soul.

Ricky regarded her in silence. He remembered clearly how frigid, how untouchably distant she had been when they first crossed paths—aloof, mechanical, and stripped of all emotion. Yet now, her tone had shifted. Not by much, but enough for him to notice. The frost had thinned, replaced by a faint warmth.

A small change.

But a significant one.

Even so, he couldn’t afford to indulge in sentiment. The trial he had just endured still pressed against his chest like a weight, leaving his mind weary and his body tense. He pushed the thought aside, forcing his tone into calmness.

"How much time has passed since I was last here?" Ricky asked, his voice even, but edged with fatigue.

He had no patience for idle words. He wasn’t in the mood for drawn-out conversation.

Before attempting this cycle, he had walked into the process with quiet confidence, almost certain it would flow as smoothly as his earlier creations of spiritual spaces. Perhaps, in truth, he had grown arrogant.

He should have known better.

If even the Divine Researchers—the very ones who forged the foundation of this technique—had failed to produce a second spiritual space... then what right did he have to attempt not just one, but three more?

It was nothing short of madness.

A miracle that he hadn’t already been scattered into dust.

Ricky was no fool. After clawing his way through the ordeal, he had finally begun to grasp why his attempt hadn’t instantly destroyed him. He understood the faint outline of the truth.

But understanding was not the same as solving.

The guarding spirit’s answer struck him like a falling mountain.

"Over a month."

Ricky froze, his breath catching in his throat.

A month?

The words reverberated in his mind, sharp and merciless. His meditation—his endless struggle to prevent the spirals from consuming him—had not been hours, not days, but an entire month. His stomach tightened as if he had swallowed lead. No wonder it had felt like drowning in an abyss that refused to end.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, staring into the spirit’s luminous eyes. Then, without another word, he forced himself upright, his movements heavy, deliberate. Dwelling on this would do nothing.

Without lingering further, Ricky dismissed himself from the inheritance space. The silvery-haired spirit faded from sight, her expression unreadable as the chamber dissolved into darkness.

When his senses returned to reality, his body felt strange—stiff, unfamiliar, as though it had been abandoned for centuries.

The last time he had opened his eyes, the political winds were already shifting, tension coiling through the world like a drawn bowstring. But now? After a month had passed... what storms had been unleashed while he lingered in solitude?

Outside, the Realm of the Emerald Green Kingdom...

The land stretched like a vast tapestry of green and gold, yet beneath its beauty pulsed the weight of a rising behemoth. The Emerald Green Kingdom had swelled beyond recognition, its dominion spilling into city after city, each one housing millions. The streets were alive with the footsteps of countless Stage One cultivators—ordinary in strength, yet bound together by something greater than themselves.

Once, the Beast Forest of Ten Thousand had looked down on all others, its name a symbol of wild, untamed supremacy. Now it was but a shadow compared to this kingdom’s radiance.

The causes of this meteoric rise were many. The first was the fabled Treasure Ground of Demon Queen Noctys, whose lingering power had thickened the air with mana so dense that even commoners could breathe it in and feel their bodies stir with energy. The second was the subtle yet unshakable influence of Saint Selene Veylor, whose existence lingered like a silent pillar, shaping the fate of all who dwelled here.

But greater than either of these—greater than relics or saints—was the name whispered across every market, every battlefield, every prayer at dusk. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Ricky.

The Venom Fang Overlord.

His shadow loomed over the kingdom like a colossal guardian. His display of power during the last invasion had carved itself into memory and legend. To the citizens, his presence was not merely protection—it was faith, a living promise that no matter what horror approached, they would not face it alone.

So long as he stood, they believed, calamity could never swallow them.

Or so they thought.

....

Meanwhile, at the borders of the Emerald Green Kingdom...

Two figures moved like lightning across the vast plains.

One was the Crown Prince, Darius. His steps were calm, his face indifferent, and his sharp, hawk-like eyes swept across the horizon as though searching for prey. His presence alone carried the sharpness of a drawn blade—restrained yet terrifying.

Beside him towered a colossal figure, almost as tall as a mountain—the Flaming Giant, Gorath. With each breath he drew, thick streams of smoke coiled from his nostrils, rising into the sky like warning signals. The air around him shimmered faintly, warped by the heat radiating from his fiery body.

From time to time, Gorath’s massive eyes would flick toward the prince. Hidden behind their molten glow was a competitive hunger, a restless desire that refused to fade.

A teasing smirk crept onto Gorath’s lips as an idea sparked in his mind. For days he had been pestering Darius for a duel, eager to test his strength against the one mortals hailed as the kingdom’s crown jewel. But every time, the prince brushed him aside, claiming such a fight was beneath his notice.

To Gorath, this rejection was humiliation. An unbearable wound to his pride as a warrior, as a Giant. Deep down, it felt as though Darius was avoiding him not because he was unworthy—but because the prince feared he might not win.

The thought made Gorath’s massive teeth grind together. His molten eyes flared with fury. How dare he...

Just as he was about to spit out his anger—

BOOOOM!

An earth-shaking explosion tore through the distance, its thunderous echo reverberating across the land. The ground trembled beneath their feet, a shockwave rolling over the horizon.

Both Darius and Gorath halted instantly, their gazes snapping toward the source.