Poison God's Heritage

Suddenly, the first Prowler was joined by two larger ones, each moving with terrifying grace. Their obsidian scales shimmered in the darkness, reflecting the faintest glimmers of light that managed to penetrate this forsaken place. However, the sleeker, smaller Prowler was noticeably faster, its movements more agile and deliberate.

The fact that the others didn't challenge its presence in their territory signaled one clear fact: the smaller Prowler was the alpha male, and the two larger beasts were his mates. The alpha's eyes gleamed with a feral hunger, and what had begun as a simple hunt for one had now turned into a full pursuit with three apex predators. Find adventures on empire

The thrill of the chase invigorated them, their bodies pulsing with adrenaline as they synchronized their movements, a deadly dance of death.

Sweat poured down the short man's forehead as he realized the gravity of the situation. Three Obsidian Prowlers were chasing him now. He knew that even a single one of these monsters was capable of inflicting serious harm, and three of them would undoubtedly kill him if he made even the slightest mistake.

His heart pounded in his chest, the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind, threatening to consume him. But he forced himself to stay focused, to push past the terror and keep moving.

These creatures were like a force of nature, gods of gluttony and carnage. If one of them were to somehow escape into the Vast Expanse, it would devour everything in its path, leaving a planet devoid of life in less than a decade. That's how much they relished in feasting and destruction. They were not just predators; they were harbingers of doom, a living embodiment of the end.

Despite his speed and determination, the short man knew he would be caught. The Obsidian Prowlers knew these lands intimately, having lived here for thousands of years. They understood every nook, every cranny, and every shortcut. They could anticipate his every move, sensing the direction he would take even before he knew it himself.

The man, however, only knew that he needed to reach the palace as fast as possible. It was his only hope, the only place where he might stand a chance against the beasts that pursued him.

Not far from the palace, their plight had not gone unnoticed.

"Junfei," the Death Sun's voice echoed through the palace, he sounded slightly exhausted yet compassionate for some reason, "Would you mind giving them a helping hand?"

Annoyed at being pulled away from the gate he was working on, the Cryptic Sun sighed, his concentration momentarily broken. "Your slaves really couldn't have picked a worse time? I was just getting into focus!" the Cryptic Sun spoke in rage.

the Death Sun's tone of voice was that of understanding and apology as he sighed saying "That's precisely why I'm asking you to help," the Death Sun replied. "Your nose is bleeding. You are overworking yourself.

The Cryptic Sun wiped at his face and realized the Death Sun was right. He had been concentrating so intensely that he hadn't noticed his own overexertion. If he continued, he might have damaged his mind, leaving him a broken fool. He couldn't disagree nor retort as the Death Sun was right. So he stood up from his working area and closed his eyes for a second.

Taking a breath, the Cryptic Sun reluctantly left the palace, moving at a slow pace that was still impossibly fast for any mortal to comprehend. His movements were almost leisurely, as if the urgency of the situation was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. But despite his casual demeanor, he reached the pack of Obsidian Prowlers in no

time, standing in their path with a calm, almost dismissive air.

The short man darted past him, his voice a quick "Thank you!" before disappearing into the shadows.

The Cryptic Sun looked at the three Prowlers with disdain. "Weaklings," he muttered under his breath. To him, these creatures were insignificant, mere insects that didn't warrant his attention. He hadn't needed to help, but it gave him an excuse to calm his mind after the overexertion.

"Stand down," he commanded, his voice carrying an authority that few could ignore.

But the Prowlers, driven by their bloodlust and the thrill of the hunt, ignored the warning. Their eyes glinted with a savage light, their bodies tense with anticipation. They leapt toward him, their powerful limbs propelling them forward with lethal intent, determined to claim their prey.

"Fools," the Cryptic Sun spat as he extended his hand. In an instant, death formations materialized, each one designed to destroy anything in its path. The air around him crackled with dark energy, the formations pulsing with a deadly power that could annihilate even the most formidable of enemies.

What happened next was unexpected. Instead of crumbling into dust as they collided with the formation, the Prowlers simply bounced off, crashing into trees and boulders nearby. The ground shook with the impact, and the force of the collision sent shockwaves through the forest. The two larger females whimpered in pain, the impact too much for them to bear.

But the smaller alpha male, enraged by the interference, let out a terrifying roar that reverberated through the darkened sky.

With a sound that could freeze the heart of any creature, the Prowler unleashed a torrent of electrified black smoke from its mouth. The air crackled with energy as the beast's body began to change, its obsidian scales shimmering with a dark purple light as it grew in size. Its already fearsome form expanded to ten times its original size, the very ground quivering beneath its weight.

The spikes on its back crackled with wild electricity, arcs of lightning dancing along its spine, and its fangs elongated, glistening with lethal intent. The Obsidian Prowler was furious, its primal rage transforming it into a creature of unimaginable power. It didn't care if the Cryptic Sun was a cultivator or a Sun itself—nothing would stand between it and its prey.

If it had to, it would take down a Sun, and in its blind rage, it believed it could.

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