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

Chapter 731: Chapter 731- Vermillion Tribe’s Heir

Tianlong stood. His naked body, golden, muscular, gleamed. His cock, still hard, slick with the headmistress’s arousal and his own cum, stood rigid. The three Soul Formation women, their naked bodies, their various shapes, were around him. The headmistress, beneath him, her thick body, the furry bra, the bare pussy, the leaking seed, was still. Bai Lian, unconscious, her virgin pussy bleeding, lay on the stone.

He sighed. The sound, the exhale, was the sound of a man who had expected this outcome and was neither surprised nor disappointed.

’The boy is gone. Taken to the Upper World. The protagonist seed has been retrieved. The heavenly fate, the cosmic narrative, the story that the upper world has written, has claimed its hero. Lau, the vessel, the reincarnation of Shen Wuji’s time variant, will be raised in the Upper World. Trained. Cultivated. Prepared. He will return, eventually, as a powerful cultivator with a grudge against the man who fucked his mother and his childhood friend.’

’The story continues. The hero grows. The villain remains.’

’But the villain is no longer in the lower realm. The villain is about to ascend.’

He looked down. At the headmistress. At Madam Yueying. At the thick woman, her dark eyes wet, her beautiful mature face, the tears running down her temples. Her coral lips, swollen, trembled.

"Sir," she whispered. Her raw voice, broken, was the voice of a mother who had just watched her son be taken. "My son..."

Her dark eyes, wide, streaming, were on the sky. On the space where the portal had been. On the emptiness where her boy had been.

Tianlong looked at her. At the tears. At the mother’s grief. At the woman whose corrupted devotion had been built on the promise of saving her son, a promise that had been rendered meaningless by the portal’s closing.

He slammed his cock.

PAAAH!

"AAANGH~!!"

Her back arched. Her thick body, the enormous tits in the furry bra, heaved. Her dark eyes, wide, wet, the tears flying, rolled. The cock, twelve inches, the divine flesh, the shaft still slick with cum, drove into her puffy pussy. The walls, mature, swollen, gripped him. The sensation, the sudden, violent penetration, sent a jolt through her body.

"Forget about your son," he said. His voice was calm. Conversational. The tone of a man making a practical suggestion. "Let me give you another one."

Her dark eyes, wide, wet, streamed. Her mouth, the coral lips, opened. The moan, the cry, the sound of a woman whose grief was being overwritten by pleasure, was raw.

"No..." she whispered. "Wait... my son... I..."

He fucked her. The mating press, his body on hers, his hips driving. The puffy pussy, the soft, plush walls, gripped him. The rhythm, the pace, was relentless. His cock, driving in and out, the head reaching her womb, the cervix yielding, the divine qi flowing, was overwhelming.

Pah pah pah pah pah!

"OUNGH~!! HNNNGH~!! AAANGH~!!"

Her dark eyes rolled. The whites showed. The tears, still falling, mixed with the sweat on her temples. Her enormous tits, in the furry bra, heaved against his chest. The fur, the soft material, brushed his skin. Her thick legs, spread, were held by his hips. Her arms, pale, wrapped around his back. Her nails, digging into his golden skin, left marks.

"Wait..." she moaned. Her raw voice, the broken whisper, was barely audible. "Wait... I can’t... my body... I..."

Her back arched. The orgasm, the climax, the peak that had been building since his cock re-entered her, hit. Her puffy pussy, the mature walls, clenched. The muscles, the spiritual tissues, the Golden Core cultivation, contracted. The milking, the squeezing, the desperate grip of a woman whose body was trying to please, was intense.

He came.

The divine seed, pressurized, molten, erupted. The cum, thick and white, sprayed into her womb. The fluid, hot, filled her. The divine qi in his cum, flowing through her body, through her Golden Core, through her meridians, was absorbed. Her body, conditioned, accepted. The cum, the spiritual energy, the divine essence, overflowed. The fluid, the thick white seed, leaked from their junction. It ran down her thick thighs, pooling on the stone.

PAAAH! PAAAH!

"AAANGH~!! Yes... yes... fill me... fill me, Lord Immortal... I..."

Her voice, the corrupted moan, faded. Her body, the thick frame, went limp. Her dark eyes, half-closed, were vacant. The tears, the last tears, fell. The grief, the mother’s grief, the sorrow of losing her son, was still there. Buried. Under the pleasure. Under the divine qi. Under the cum that filled her womb.

She closed her eyes.

’I... I love Lord Immortal.’

The thought, the corrupted, broken, rebuilt thought, was the thought of a woman whose entire identity had been rewritten. Not destroyed. Rewritten. The mother who had traded her body for her son’s life, who had failed, who had watched her son be taken, who had been fucked through her grief and filled with seed, had found something in the wreckage. Not her son. Not her dignity. Not her self.

Him.

’I love him. I love the being who broke me. Who remade me. Who fucked me through my grief and told me to forget my son. I love him. Because he is the only thing left. The only thing that is real.

The only thing that is permanent. Everything else, my son, my academy, my position, my body, all of it, is temporary. But he is eternal. He is a god. And I am his pet. And that is enough.’

Her dark eyes, closed, were wet. The tears, the last tears of the woman she had been, fell. The woman she was now, the pet, the vessel, the broken and remade thing, had no more tears.

~ The Vermillion Sect — Upper World

The portal opened in the Vermillion Hall.

The space, the vast, ornate chamber of the Vermillion Sect’s headquarters in the higher tier of the immortal world, was filled with elders. Twelve of them, seated in formation, their cultivation bases ranging from Divine Integration to peak Soul Formation, their formal robes bearing the vermillion-and-gold insignia of their lineage. The ceiling, a hundred meters above, was painted with murals of the Vermillion Bird, the ancestral totem, its wings spread across the heavens.

The portal, the spatial tear, opened above the central dais. The energy, the Upper World qi, the golden light of a stabilized trans-dimensional passage, filled the hall. The elders, their faces composed, their spiritual senses extended, watched.

Through the portal, an elder descended. His robes, dark blue and silver, the attire of a different sect, were torn. His silver-white hair, tied in a topknot, was disheveled. His right hand, the index finger severed, the stump cauterized, was wrapped in spiritual bandages. His left arm, cradling a boy, held the thin frame against his chest.

He landed. His boots, dark leather, touched the dais. The boy, Lau, in his arms, was unconscious. The purple-black glow, the void energy, was dim. The developing body, the longer hair, the shifted proportions, was limp.

The elder, the silver-white-haired cultivator, looked at the twelve Vermillion elders. His face, handsome, the controlled expression of a man who had completed a mission, held exhaustion beneath the composure.

"We have saved the last heir of the Vermillion Tribe," he said. His voice, cultured, steady, carried the weight of the announcement. "This boy would now represent the new generation of the immortals."