Poison God's Heritage

"Set the formation up! Hurry, we're being overrun!" one of the Heaven Stage cultivators shouted urgently at the backline, his voice carrying the weight of impending doom.

The space of the Beyond had instantaneously transformed into a hellish nightmare. What was once an empty void, a silent expanse of nothingness, was now swarming with hordes upon hordes of Rakshasas, moving forward at incredulous speeds.

They surged in relentless waves, shaping themselves into multiple swarms, each led by five formidable Noble Brutes that tore through anything in their path with brutal efficiency.

At the forefront of the battle were the forces of the Darkest Sun, with the captured and enslaved Titan race fighting under his command. These towering beings, known for their immense strength and resilience, clashed head-on with the Rakshasas, their massive forms creating a formidable first line of defense.

Tens of millions of cultivators moved in coordinated groups, prepared to combat the incoming horde, but they were met with a force ten times their number at every turn.

Each swarm of Rakshasas easily broke through the Titans' defenses, as the Noble Brutes proved to be even more resilient and powerful in a head-to-head clash. The five Noble Brutes led the charge, their sheer momentum and brute strength overpowering the Titans with terrifying ease.

The Rakshasa hordes followed in their wake, descending upon the Titans like ravenous locusts, devouring them with such ferocity that within moments, all that remained were skulls and bones, stripped clean of flesh.

The cultivators fought back fiercely, unleashing the full might of their cultivation. The power of Qi manifested in a dazzling array of techniques, each showcasing the knowledge, dedication, and mastery that the cultivators of the Beyond had honed over countless years. This was their art, their way of life—a testament to their unyielding pursuit of power and survival.

Their Daos and beliefs shone brightly in the darkened void, like beacons of hope amidst the chaos.

Daos of various schools were displayed in all their glory as the cultivators used every ounce of their power to fend off the onslaught. From the fundamental and widely-practiced Daos like Yin and Yang and the Five Elements, to the more esoteric Daos of formation, alchemy, life, death, and even time itself, the battlefield became a tapestry of diverse and potent energies.

Some cultivators exhibited unparalleled skill in the art of the sword, fighting at the frontline, their blades slicing through the white Rakshasas with deadly precision. Others rained down tens of thousands of energy arrows that bored through the Rakshasa ranks, sending them plummeting to the Beyond where the gravitational pull of the gigantic land melted their bodies into nothingness.

Talismans were activated, and charms unleashed, summoning beasts of incredible power to fight alongside their masters.

The Rakshasas, despite their overwhelming numbers and ferocity, were unprepared for this level of resistance. They had easily consumed and destroyed the world of the Solarous, where the inhabitants knew little of true battle. The Solarous people had struggled, but it was a futile struggle, akin to the wriggling of a larva in the dirt—a desperate fight with no real hope of survival.

But the cultivators of the Beyond were different; they were battle-hardened, forged in the crucible of endless conflict. From the moment they stepped onto the path of cultivation, they had known nothing but struggle, fighting against both external enemies and internal strife.

For the Rakshasas, this was a battle to determine their fate and claim a new home. For the cultivators, it was the same, but with a crucial difference: to them, this was just another day in their ceaseless struggle for survival, another chapter in their endless pursuit of the Dao.

It was a day like any other for a true cultivator, where life and death hung in the balance, and the only certainty was the fight itself.

While the frontal assault raged on, the leaders of each group of ten million cultivators—each a Heaven Stage cultivator—micromanaged their forces with expert precision. Their strategic commands were vital in holding the line, ensuring that the chaos did not descend into an irreparable rout.

However, on the eastern side of the Beyond, the defenses were far less robust. This region, unlike the others, did not belong to any of the Suns who had sent their main forces to support the Darkest Sun. The eastern side had only a few Heaven Stage cultivators, one from each of the other territories, but none from the Dusking Sun or the Cryptic Sun.

The Dusking Sun, being a solitary cultivator who only managed his own beasts, had no vested interest in protecting this land. Meanwhile, the Cryptic Sun had made it clear he had no intention of safeguarding the east, as it lay directly above Shen Bao's territory.

The Blue Sun had contributed two of her Heaven Stage cultivators to this defense, while the rest of her forces were dispatched to aid the Darkest Sun. The Red Sun had sent one of his Heaven Stage cultivators to the east and another as a gift for Shen Bao, who had yet to return to the Sea of Demons.

The remaining Suns had also sent a Heaven Stage cultivator each, but their contributions were minimal at best. None of them had fully committed to defending the Beyond, and they certainly did not feel obliged to protect Shen Bao's territory, which they did not recognize as truly legitimate.

Shen Bao was not a Sun, his cultivation level was far below theirs, and as far as they were concerned, if he had claimed a land of his own, he should be prepared to defend it himself.

The Heaven Stage cultivators, though powerful, were pragmatic. They saw no reason to risk the lives of their soldiers to protect someone who had yet to earn their respect. Even if the Rakshasa were to overrun the Sea of Demons, so what? The land was barren, sapped of Qi, and home to fugitives, turncoats, and traitors—hardly worth the effort of defending.

If the Rakshasa did manage to land there, they would be nothing more than trapped mice, struggling to harness the Qi and battling the relentless hordes of Walkers that emerged during the endless nights. The Sea of Demons was a desolate, unforgiving place, and its fate was of little concern to them.

The protection over the eastern side was mediocre at best, and the Rakshasa quickly noticed this glaring weakness. To their eyes, the territories beyond the massive army of cultivators were each protected by a nearly invisible aura of different colors, marking the presence of a Sun's power. The areas without this protective aura, however, presented different challenges.

The Thundering Domain, for example, still held the presence of the Heavenly Dao, and the endless lightning Qi within it was enough to terrify the Rakshasa. The Cold Domain and the Fire Domain were equally inhospitable, each one sapping the Rakshasa's energy and threatening to annihilate them before they could even secure a foothold.

But the Sea of Demons was different. It was a vast, unprotected land, devoid of Sun protection, and its sheer size made it an ideal target for the Rakshasa to establish a foothold before any significant retaliation could be mounted.

Although the land was perilous, with its Qi-depleted environment and the ever-present threat of the Walkers, it was still a more viable option than the heavily fortified and protected territories of the Suns.

A Black Noble, one of the Rakshasa leaders, quickly assessed the situation, noticing the disparity between the territories. Its many eyes clicked and whirred, sending orders through the air like a ripple of malevolent intent.

The Rakshasa, upon receiving the command, began to move with calculated precision. Their overwhelming numbers allowed them to push through the ranks of the cultivators, despite the heavy resistance. The cultivators fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered, and the Rakshasa's sheer determination allowed them to break through the defenses.

Although the Rakshasa paid a heavy price, losing countless warriors in the process, they still managed to push through, landing more than twenty million of their numbers in the Sea of Demons. With a few dozen million more holding back the cultivators, the Rakshasa had successfully breached the eastern side.

From the Sea of Demons, one could look up and see the reflective, bright domes of the twelve cities casting their light into the dark night sky. These lights illuminated the incoming Rakshasa, revealing their immense numbers as they descended like a plague upon the land.

In mere seconds, the sound of horns blared through the twelve cities, their warning cries echoing across the desolate landscape. The domes, once glowing a serene green, shifted to a deep, ominous crimson. The transformation was swift; turrets surrounding the cities and atop the walls rotated and aimed skyward, their barrels glowing with pent-up energy.

The cities themselves began to change, their structures morphing into protective metallic domes, from which hundreds of thousands of puppets emerged, each one armed and ready for battle.

Beneath the sea, massive formations began to light up, casting an eerie glow that spread throughout the depths. The Sea of Demons was about to enter into a fierce battle, one that would determine the fate of all who dwelled there.

Meanwhile, far away in the lands of the Blue Sun, a lone cultivator sat atop the highest mountain peak, deep in meditation. His eyes were closed, his breath steady as he focused on breaking through the bottleneck in his cultivation. However, despite his efforts, frustration began to gnaw at him.

He opened his eyes, a sour expression on his face. "I guess this bottleneck can't be solved by just shoving more Qi into

my stomach," he muttered, stretching his neck with a series of audible cracks. His gaze shifted to his wrist, where a holographic image of the incoming Rakshasa was displayed, showing their descent upon the Sea of Demons with alarming clarity.

"When it rains, it indeed pours," he sighed, slapping his knees as he stood up. "Well, time to get some workout in, isn't that right?" he said, addressing the massive, coiling Serpent that slithered around him, its scales shimmering in the light. His eyes locked onto a nearby teleportation gate, his resolve hardening as he prepared to join the fray.