Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 699: Chapter 699- Gu eating Feast

"Mmmph... I’m... shorry..." She tried again. Her dark eyes filled with tears. The tears ran down her cheeks, mixing with the saliva on her chin.

Tianlong chuckled. The sound was low. Warm. His pale hand, large and golden-skinned, found her hair. His fingers threaded through the dark strands. He gripped. Pulled. Her head came forward. Her mouth was pushed against his balls, the sac pressing against her lips. Her nose was buried in the base of his cock.

"Glurk..." Her throat bulged. The cock, seven inches deep, filled her throat. Her neck was stretched. Her jaw was at its limit.

He pulled her head back. Then forward. Then back. The motion was rhythmic. His hips moved, the thrusts shallow, the cock sliding in and out of her throat. Her enormous tits swayed with each thrust. The dark nipples scraped the jade.

"Mmmph... slurp... glurk..."

He pulled her off. The cock emerged, slick with saliva. She gasped. Her mouth, stretched, ached. Her chin was wet. Her dark eyes, wet, looked up at him.

"I would punish her accordingly," Tianlong said. His voice was calm. His gold-crimson eyes swept the hall. Found the two men on the floor. Found Jin Wuchen, his dark eyes wide. Found the elders, their faces pale. "However."

His voice hardened. The divine qi in the words pressed against every person in the hall.

"How dare you eye my woman."

The words were directed at Wang Deyu and Han Tianxiao. The two men, still on the floor, still clutching their bandaged crotches, flinched. Their bodies pressed lower against the jade. Their foreheads touched the stone.

"We apologize!" Wang Deyu’s voice was a sob. "Please! We did not know! We did not know she was your woman! We..."

"We were foolish!" Han Tianxiao’s voice cracked. "Please, Lord Immortal! We will do anything! We will serve you! We will..."

Jin Yuhan’s dark eyes widened. She flinched. Not with fear. With surprise. With the sudden, overwhelming realization that the words were about her. That the man who had taken her virginity, who had groped her in front of her sect, who had declared her his woman, was now defending her. Punishing those who had looked at her with lust.

’He’s... protecting me. He killed Zhao Kuang for looking at me. He broke the other two’s balls for talking about fucking me. And now he’s... he’s saying I’m his woman. He’s defending me.’

’No one has ever... Father protected me. But Father couldn’t. Father is peak Golden Core and these men were his equals. Father couldn’t stop them. But the ancestor... he killed one with a finger. He broke two with a glance. And he did it for me.’

’He did it for me.’

Her slender body trembled. Her dark eyes, wet, found his face. The gold-crimson eyes, looking at the groveling men, then turning. To her. The warmth was there. The possessiveness. But also... protection. The gaze of a man who had claimed something and would destroy anyone who touched it.

She moved. Her slender body shifted. Her hip pressed against his knee. Her small hand, pale, found his arm. Her fingers touched his golden skin. She leaned closer. Into his side. Her breast, small and firm, pressed against his ribs through the formal robe.

His hand, the one not holding Madam Fengyan’s hair, moved. It found her ass. Over the silk of her formal robes, his pale fingers gripped the firm flesh. He squeezed. The flesh deformed. His hand kneaded, the motion possessive, the touch warm.

She let him. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t pull away. She leaned into the touch. Her body, bonded to his divine qi, responded. Her nipple hardened. Her pussy moistened. Her breath quickened.

’I’m his. He said so. And I... I want to be.’

The elders, the sect leader, the disciples, the ten thousand cultivators outside, all begged. Their voices, a chorus of fear and submission, filled the hall.

"Please, Lord Ancestor, forgive us!"

"We will serve you! We will follow you!"

"Please, have mercy!"

Tianlong sipped his tea. The porcelain cup touched his lips. His gold-crimson eyes, over the rim, surveyed the room. The groveling sect leaders. The suppressed elders. The terrified disciples. The princess, leaning into his side, his hand on her ass.

"All of you," he said. His voice was calm. "Eat this."

He snapped his fingers.

The sound was small. The effect was not.

Boxes materialized. Thousands of them. Small, wooden, the surfaces carved with demonic formation diagrams. They appeared in the air, hovering, then fell. They rained from the ceiling of the hall. They rained from the sky outside. They fell on the courtyard, on the corridors, on the training platforms. Thousands of boxes, landing at the feet of every cultivator in the Azure Cloud Sect.

One box landed before Wang Deyu. One before Han Tianxiao. One before Madam Fengyan. One before Jin Wuchen. One before each elder. One before each disciple.

Wang Deyu’s trembling hands reached for the box. His portly body was shaking. His small eyes, wide, stared at the wooden surface. He opened it.

He screamed.

From inside the box, a creature moved. A centipede. Small, the length of a finger, the body segmented, the legs numerous. The color was dark, almost black, with a reddish sheen. The mandibles clicked. The body writhed.

It was a demonic cultivation parasite. A Gu worm. A creature used by demonic cultivators to control, poison, and enslave. The worm, once ingested, would nest in the cultivator’s dantian. It would feed on spiritual energy. It would grow. And it would respond to the commands of the one who had bred it. The breeder. The master. The one whose qi signature was encoded in the worm’s spiritual DNA.

Tianlong.

"Eat it," Tianlong said. His voice was flat. The divine qi in the words pressed against every person in the hall. "Now."

The shock was absolute. The horror, visceral. The orthodox cultivators, men and women who had spent their lives following the righteous path, who had been taught that demonic cultivation was the enemy, that Gu worms were abominations, that the creatures were tools of the wicked.

They stared at the centipedes. At the writhing, clicking, dark bodies. At the mandibles. At the legs.

"He’s... he’s a demonic cultivator?" Elder Biyu’s sharp voice was a whisper. Her sharp face was white. "The ancestor... he practices demonic methods?"

"This cannot be," Elder Hanlin breathed. His white beard trembled. "An ancestor from the upper realm, practicing demonic cultivation? This is..."

"Orthodox," Tianlong said. His gold-crimson eyes found the elders. His voice carried no anger. No defense. Just statement. "You call yourselves orthodox. You call your methods righteous. You call demonic cultivation evil."

He sipped his tea.

"Don’t even think to justify your own wrongdoing as orthodox," he said. "Both demon sect and you are the same. The righteous sects have killed, raped, and plundered under the banner of orthodoxy for millennia. The demonic sects have done the same under the banner of freedom. You are the same. The only difference is the color of your robes."

His gold-crimson eyes hardened.

"Eat. Before I kill you all."

The divine qi surged. The pressure in the hall intensified. The elders, bent at the waist, groaned. The disciples, pressed against the walls, whimpered. The sect leaders, on the floor, trembled.

They ate.