SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 93: Accepting a desciple?

"Venom Fang Overlord... don’t tell me you’re also an alchemist..."

Valemont’s voice trembled with disbelief—even he couldn’t fully accept the words spilling from his mouth.

Since when did mindless, bloodthirsty monsters begin dabbling in the refined and delicate arts of alchemy?

It was absurd.

And yet, here he was, asking that very question.

He wasn’t alone in his shock. Ricky blinked, utterly dumbfounded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the young man like he had grown a second head.

What kind of leap in logic was that?

The thought echoed in Ricky’s mind, loud and clear.

For a brief moment, he genuinely considered asking if Valemont had ever taken a hard fall as a child—headfirst into stone, perhaps. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Then, like a bolt of lightning piercing a foggy sky, realization struck.

Ricky’s eyes flickered with a strange glint. A sudden idea bloomed in his mind.

He didn’t confirm. He didn’t deny. Instead, he let a thin smile curl at the edge of his mandibles and said simply, "Think whatever you want."

If this kid wanted to believe it, let him. Ricky had no intention of explaining himself.

He needed an alchemist—desperately. To rapidly grow his second spiritual space to its fullest potential, he required someone skilled in pill refinement, someone with access to herbs and knowledge Ricky couldn’t gather on his own right now.

Valemont stared at him, slack-jawed, then slowly, his eyes widened in gleaming wonder.

He took Ricky’s vague response not as a dodge—but as silent confirmation.

Joy exploded across his face like fireworks.

"Venom Fang Overlord, please accept me as your disciple! Teach me the art of alchemy!"

The words came out in a rush, loud and breathless. Valemont’s entire demeanor shifted—he no longer looked at Ricky with fear or caution, but with burning admiration.

In his mind, Ricky’s identity didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter if he was a feared monster, a demon in disguise, or the bringer of death. None of that held weight compared to the possibility that this creature possessed the secrets of pill refinement.

That was all that mattered to Valemont.

Everything else—the enmity, the danger, the bloodshed—it could all go to hell for all he cared.

Because Valemont... was a hardcore alchemy simp.

He would kneel before devils and beg monsters for mercy if it meant learning even a fragment of the alchemical arts.

In this era, alchemical recipes were rarer than spiritual treasures, guarded like ancient heirlooms and traded in secret behind closed doors. Knowledge of alchemy had become a currency more precious than gold.

And Valemont had chased that knowledge with desperation.

More than once, others had exploited his obsession—dangling fake recipes before him, scamming him out of resources, leading him down dead ends. But none of it had killed his determination.

Valemont wasn’t actually as stupid as he looked, he knew who was scamming and who was not, he himself was willing to get scammed as long there was even a little bit information present, information that increased his understanding of the art.

And now, standing before a being who might—just might—hold the secrets he longed for, he would give up anything.

Even his pride.

Even his life.

"What is going on here?" Noctyss muttered, her eyes wide with disbelief.

After sprinting through the dense terrain like her life depended on it, she and Boar finally caught up to Ricky—only to find a scene so bizarre, even she was at a loss for words.

Before them, a Stage 2 human magus knelt on the ground, head bowed in reverence, his expression solemn and unwavering.

He was kowtowing. To Ricky.

A being whom most would have called call a pest in the past... was now being revered as a master.

Noctyss blinked, her brows twitching in confusion. Even Boar’s jaw went slack.

It was like watching a lion bow to a rabbit.

"Get up, young man," Ricky said, his tone casual, yet firm. "I simply can’t accept anyone as my disciple."

Valemont’s heart skipped a beat. His face lost what little color remained. Had he not been sincere enough? Was it his posture? His tone?

No. No, it must be the offering...

Without hesitation, he flicked his wrists, producing three jade-green flowers that glowed with a toxic shimmer. The air around them grew heavier, as if the very aura of the plants rejected weakness.

"Venom Overlord, please accept these Five-Petaled Toxic Bloom flowers!"

Ricky’s gaze briefly landed on the flowers. A strange, unreadable expression surfaced on his segmented face.

Inside, however, he was snorting with disdain.

These weeds?

Compared to the vast, ancient treasury of the Divine Researcher Saint—a trove brimming with forgotten wonders and elixirs of godlike potency—these so-called rare blooms were like roadside moss. But for now, he kept his thoughts hidden, letting the moment stretch.

Valemont watched with bated breath.

To him, Ricky’s silence wasn’t indifference—it was contemplation.

And contemplation meant hope.

His heart pounded. His palms were slick with sweat. The overlord hadn’t rejected the offering yet... but three flowers clearly weren’t enough.

Damn it. Is he hesitating because of the quantity?

Biting his lip, Valemont steeled himself.

With a flash of resolve, he retrieved the final three blossoms from the deepest part of his spatial ring—his last reserve. He had been saving them for a life-altering trade, a moment of destiny.

And this... this was that moment.

Now six glowing flowers floated before Ricky, their petals unfurling slightly as if begging to be chosen.

Valemont’s hands trembled slightly as he offered them.

Even if the Venom Fang Overlord refused him—even if this sacrifice ended in heartbreak—he had to try. He couldn’t bear to walk away with regret.

No, he told himself fiercely. Don’t even think that way. He will accept me. He must.

He lowered his head once more, his knees pressed into the soil, his pride buried beneath his obsession.

And in the silence that followed, Valemont prayed.

"Damn, this lad is pretty determined..."

Ricky clicked his antennae together thoughtfully, a subtle twitch betraying his inner amusement. From the desperate gleam in Valemont’s eyes to the reverent way he presented the flowers, the young man was clearly all-in.

Perfect.

He needed an alchemical slave—preferably one obsessive enough to work without sleep if asked. And Valemont? He ticked all the boxes.

With a faint sigh, Ricky narrowed his many eyes and put on a solemn expression.

"Young man, your sincerity has moved me... but—"

He let his voice trail off meaningfully, letting mystery fill the silence. He knew the effect it would have.

Somewhere deep within his spiritual space, if Dark Shadow had heard that line, she might’ve narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Ricky had used that exact phrase before—when conning someone else. But thankfully, she wasn’t here to expose his antics.

"...First, you have to prove your qualifications."

His tone lowered, heavy with mock gravity. The words echoed in the quiet clearing, and Valemont’s hopeful expression wavered into confusion.

"Prove my qualifications? But how...?"

Valemont murmured, shaking his head. His brows furrowed deeply as he tried to understand the test his future ’master’ would impose.

From the side, Noctyss and Boar exchanged wide-eyed glances, both utterly lost in the absurdity of the situation. Just minutes ago, they were chasing Ricky through unknown lands. Now they were witnesses to a grown magus begging a mosquito monster for mentorship.

Ricky, however, ignored the baffled onlookers. His attention remained fixed on the starry-eyed pill fanatic before him.

"You’ll have to pass a test..."

As the words left his mandibles, a golden scroll shimmered into existence with a faint hum of ancient power. The parchment seemed almost sacred, surrounded by motes of light and swirling threads of mana.

The scroll floated gently through the air toward Valemont, who caught it with both hands as if handling a divine artifact.

Without wasting a second, Valemont unfurled the scroll. His eyes darted across the inked lines, and with each passing second, his breath hitched.

"F-Five Element Spiritual Force Pill...?"

His voice trembled.

The knowledge inscribed in the scroll wasn’t just rare—it was legendary. Recipes like these were guarded by sects, hidden in ancestral vaults, or outright lost to time. Even the royal library of the Eldros Kingdom—where Valemont had once sneaked into just to catch a glimpse of old alchemical texts—had never possessed such refined and profound information.

Ricky watched his stunned expression with inward satisfaction.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

The pill recipe wasn’t just valuable—it was bait. A rare and potent formula used to strengthen spiritual force. Exactly the kind of thing a desperate alchemist would kill to possess.

But even as Ricky felt smug, another issue gnawed at the back of his mind.

The Mother and Son Poison skill.

No matter how much he wanted to progress, the damn cooldown remained. Even at DDD-Rank, there was no improvement to its time limit. A full year. Way too long for someone aiming to grow stronger by the day.

I need to find a way around that... soon.

After all there were too many people now, that he needed to enslave.

This content is taken from free web nov𝒆l.com