SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 68: Sudden change

There was silence for a full minute. A breathless, tense hush—then the hall exploded with accusations and protests.

"Respected Guardian Spirit, are you certain there is no issue with this pillar?" Kael Dorn demanded, his voice strained and tight, gaze flitting between Ricky’s unmoving form and the ethereal spirit floating before them.

The question hung heavy in the air.

They could somehow accept that a mysterious sixteenth participant had managed to grasp the inheritance technique, but to believe that a mere pest—an insect, and only at Stage 2—was ahead of them all? That was far harder to stomach.

His words struck a chord with the others. One by one, gazes sharpened and turned toward the Guardian Spirit. Silent stares begged for clarity, disbelief thick in the air.

Selisara Windveil’s elegant brows furrowed deeply, her composure momentarily cracking. Something about this mosquito... felt real. Capable. Even if it defied logic, she couldn’t shake the strange intuition that the creature had genuinely comprehended the technique.

Why do I believe this? she wondered, discomfort curling in her chest. The feeling was unfamiliar and unwelcome.

Her fingers curled slightly as she waited, tense, for the Guardian Spirit’s reply.

And then, a shift.

After Kael’s inquiry, the Guardian Spirit’s eyes dimmed, turning frosty. The gentle glow that once bathed her features now carried a razor edge. All present felt it—a sudden, soul-deep chill slithering down their spines.

An unshakable, primal warning gripped their hearts. Something was wrong.

Especially Kael Dorn. He’d touched a nerve—he knew it.

The Guardian Spirit’s voice, though even, carried the weight of death beneath it. "Are you questioning the ability of my creator?"

It wasn’t a question. It was a blade.

Even the dullest among them could feel the restrained violence laced through her tone.

Kael stiffened, bowing his head quickly. "I would never dare."

The Iron Fang legion supreme commanders som was suddenly filled with regret, he regret being the first one to jump on the gun.

Now because of his rashness, he had offended the Guardian spirit.

Around him, the others instinctively turned their heads aside, not daring to meet her gaze. Fear coiled through the crowd like a silent serpent. In this space—this inheritance—there was no question about who held absolute authority.

The Guardian Spirit was a god here.

"Hmph," she scoffed coldly. "Listen well. Perhaps some of you have forgotten. Only five participants will move forward to the next stage. The rest of you will be cast out—returned to where you came from, empty-handed."

Her tone turned even colder. "One of those spots has already been claimed."

She looked directly at Ricky as she said it. And for the first time, there was warmth in her gaze—not pity, not condescension, but something akin to recognition.

This pest was no longer a joke in her eyes.

He was a contender, a dark horse those potential she failed to recognise.

Her words fell like a thunderclap. Reality slammed into the others with overwhelming force. Expressions shifted—realization dawning with bitter clarity. They couldn’t afford to waste energy on skepticism or petty rivalry.

Every moment mattered now.

In the distance, Noctyss stood over the broken shadow general she had defeated. Her face, which had been calm and proud just seconds before, froze in stunned disbelief.

Her jaw dropped as her eyes locked onto Ricky’s pillar.

"...How could he...?"

She wasn’t unfamiliar with comprehension. As a former Stage 4 cultivator, her insight was leagues above the rest. Her swift understanding of the inheritance technique had been expected.

And yet... Ricky hadn’t understood the technique. He had mastered it. Completely. While she was still grasping the surface.

She stared, dumbfounded.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the chaos his success had triggered, Ricky sifted through the newly acquired knowledge.

"Interesting..." he murmured aloud.

Mastery didn’t mean instant power. Understanding the technique was only the beginning. To actually create a second spiritual space required more—a series of complex, dangerous steps, aided by rare heavenly treasures.

The very first step?

Splitting one’s spiritual seed.

Ricky grimaced. Even thinking about it sent a sick lurch through his gut. If he had to describe the sensation, it was like imagining someone grabbing your mustache with rusted pliers and yanking with full force.

Unpleasant was an understatement.

And that was only the first step. As he continued studying the technique, his expression darkened further.

No wonder it was so rarely practiced. Even the creator of the technique, Divine Researcher Saint Selene Veylor, had failed. And failure, in her case, meant death.

But her failure wasn’t one of incompetence. She had been old—too old. Her cultivation base had long since settled. Her spiritual seed had grown definate and complete.

Yet she’d attempted it anyway.

Ricky could practically envision her—a stoic woman, face emotionless, as her spiritual space buckled and shattered. She must have known. She must have seen the cracks. But she pressed forward regardless. freewebnøvel.coɱ

All in the name of perfecting her technique.

An unwilling shiver ran down Ricky’s back. His chest tightened with something strange—an unexpected, sincere reverence.

To sacrifice yourself for the sake of research?

That level of obsession... he couldn’t relate.

He wouldn’t relate.

"I’d never do that," Ricky muttered under his breath. "Perfecting something by testing it on myself? Hell no."

Even thinking about it was insanity.

If he really wanted to experiment, he would just grab someone and be done with it.

Still, there was one undeniable truth—he now possessed a complete, perfected version of a technique that once killed its creator.

That fact alone was terrifying.

And lucky.

Because if he had failed to fully master it—if even one percent had eluded him—then the guardians of this trial, the hundreds of waiting shadow generals, would have torn him apart.

Instead, he was spared. Safe. For now.

Meanwhile, the rest of the participants had ignited into motion.

Ricky’s breakthrough had done more than stun them—it had inspired them. Or perhaps threatened them.

One by one, their own comprehension surged.

They had been chosen because of their affinity with the technique, each of them was perfectly suited to practise the technique and now that the standard had been set so high, each of them pushed themselves harder, faster.

Within moments, several more crimson pillars lit up.

And then came the shadows.

Whoever had developed initial understanding of the technique, punishment followed. Each figure was suddenly surrounded by looming black generals. Yet none of them flinched.

These were not the types to retreat from a fight. Blood and pain had carved their paths to this point.

They bared their teeth and met the generals head-on.

Ricky paid them no mind.

His focus was entirely internal. Until—

Twitch.

His antenna jerked sharply. The sensation was so sudden, so wrong, that a cold wave washed over him.

Something was off.

A silent, almost imperceptible thread tugged at his awareness. Dozens of his sleeper cells—subtle, hidden traces of his power—flickered in his consciousness.

Then they were gone.

Snuffed out in an instant.

He froze.

Even in this isolated inheritance realm, he could still vaguely feel them—his network of shadowed minds, stretching across the world. That connection was thin, faint like whispers in a blizzard, but it was there.

And now... silence.

His mind raced.

He wasn’t imagining it. He couldn’t be imagining it.

They had been extinguished.

Which could only mean one thing.

"...The Thousand Emerald Green Forest," Ricky murmured, eyes narrowing.

His personal farm.

His domain.

Was under attack.

"Who could it be..." Ricky muttered solemnly, his crimson eyes narrowing as dark thoughts churned in the back of his mind.

He already had a few guesses.

Radiant Knight Order... or the Abyssal Pact.

Both were the likeliest culprits. They had the motive, the manpower, and the madness to strike at his territory. But still—this was different.

How dare they? The thought flared with quiet fury. Do they think I’m weak?

He clenched his mandibles as a burning heat rose from within. It wasn’t just the violation of his personal space—it was his forest, his domain. They had dared step foot there.

But then, amidst the rising tide of anger, a particular image flashed unbidden across his mind—a silhouette cloaked in swirling shadow, her eight graceful legs resting atop the black jade rock by the Spirit tree grove, quietly watching over the forest with her usual calm aloofness.

Dark Shadow.

A sliver of worry pierced through the storm in his heart.

His instincts, honed through countless battles, screamed danger. Given that the outside world was already aware of his powers, any new attack wouldn’t be a simple scouting party.

No. This time, it would be someone far stronger. Perhaps even a powerhouse.

The idea made Ricky’s antennae twitch in unease.

Could she handle it?

A pause.

He frowned.

Why am I so worried about her...?

For a moment, even Ricky was surprised by the direction of his own thoughts. Emotions he hadn’t fully acknowledged stirred within. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, her importance in his heart had grown.

Was it because of all the times she had protected him? The times she remained by his side through storms and bloodshed? Or the way she never asked for anything in return, merely whispering sly remarks and stepping into danger for his sake?

Maybe it was all of it.

And maybe... he wasn’t ready to admit what that meant.

I have to go. I can’t waste any more time here.

Ricky’s wings buzzed softly in resolve as he stood straighter, the shadows of uncertainty vanishing behind a wall of purpose.

If something were to happen to Dark Shadow while he was still stuck here—indulging in techniques and trials—he would never forgive himself.

Yes, the technique was good. Excellent, even. A marvel of arcane brilliance designed by a woman who had died chasing the peak of creation.

But he had the system.

He didn’t need this technique. Not truly. The system’s power was boundless—it could carry him to heights even that Divine Researcher Saint could never have imagined.

This inheritance could only hasten the process. That was all.

And besides, it wasn’t like this inheritance ground was going to disappear overnight. If needed, he could return. Come back stronger. Come back prepared.

Noctyss was here too. With her around, someone would inevitably unlock this legacy sooner or later. He could always extract the knowledge later if he needed to.

But if something happened to Dark Shadow—if she was overwhelmed, captured, or worse...

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