Getting a Sugar Mommy in Cultivation World!! - Chapter 796 - 796: Poisoned

The Centipeagle flew past the slug and attacked first. Appearing before Wuhan, it flung its neck backward before snapping it forward, like a whip!

Wuhan dodged to the side; his grip on the sword tightened.

‘I have to deal with this fast.’ From the corner of his eye, Wuhan kept track of the slug as well.

He knew there had to be a trick to what these beasts were planning. The beasts were not that smart on their own, but under the control of a sentient being, Helena, that was another thing.

And then it happened.

Wuhan saw the attack he had dodged, paused midair, and with a heavy sound of gears turning, the extended green fangs on the centipede’s body started rotating around it.

While the blades moved, the neck suddenly turned in his direction, and the centipede clacked its teeth at him. Wuhan barely dodged again when one of the blades around the neck brushed against his skin, drawing blood.

“This is it!” Wuhan snapped, annoyance flickering on his face. Flames flickered around his sword once more.

He slashed at the eagle with a powerful overhead strike.

The flaming edge tore across its wing, forcing the creature to screech—a bone-grinding, metallic shriek that echoed through the sky.

But no blood spilled. Instead, sparks flew as if his blade had struck tempered steel. Wuahn knew that he had penetrated the foremost layer of the skin but did not understand what had stopped him next.

The Centipeagle flinched, its speed clearly dulled by the hit, yet it remained airborne, wings twitching erratically as they struggled to maintain lift.

Wuhan narrowed his eyes. That should have grounded it.

He dashed forward, hoping to take advantage of the opening—but the centipede neck thrashed wildly, spinning and coiling to protect its eagle host.

Its metal-clad segments moved with vicious intent, slashing and flailing to keep Wuhan at bay. Wuhan dodged its movements with precise steps and closed in the distance.

Just as he had arrived at the desired location and was about to slash once more.

Then—

Wuhan vanished.

His figure flickered like a mirage and disappeared into the folds of space.

Woosh!

He reappeared several meters away, calm and composed, his golden eyes narrowing as they tracked something else—something more dangerous than the centipede’s frenzy.

From the corner of his vision, the blobs of slimy liquid from the slug slithered through the air, completely unaffected by gravity.

A few of them had passed right through the area where he had been hovering moments ago.

One of the blobs collided with the Centipeagle mid-flight.

SSSSSZZZ!

A sizzling sound filled the sky.

The bird-beast let out an agonized screech that was far more intense than the cry it had given when Wuhan had slashed it.

Steam burst from its wings as the corrosive slime ate through its metallic feathers and sinewy flesh, leaving behind black, smoking holes.

“So even your own creations are vulnerable,” Wuhan muttered under his breath, praising himself for keeping his soul sense active. He tried to look dignified, but his back was drenched in sweat; he could barely even feel his legs. ‘That was close! Thank god I reacted on time, or it would have been me instead of that bird.’

Wuhan suddenly twisted in mid-air to avoid the next barrage.

Spluck! Spluck! Spluck!

More blobs of acidic liquid tore through the air in random, unpredictable arcs.

Wuhan danced between them with high-speed maneuvers, slipping through the gaps like a thread through a needle.

But then—

He sensed it.

A subtle ripple behind him.

‘I have been drawn into a trap!’ Wuhan already knew what was behind him and how that thing intended to do it.

He tried to pivot, to change direction mid-flight—but his movement froze.

His muscles tensed unnaturally, and his limbs refused to respond.

But it was already too late!

He glanced down. Wrapped around his midsection like a fleshy chain, a long, sticky tongue had locked him in place.

Ribbit.

The frog with butterfly wings croaked, its long tongue coiled tightly around Wuhan’s body, binding him in place. Its huge mouth was open in a sickening pose; drool slipped from the corner of its lips.

From the distance, Helena’s mocking voice rang out like a twisted lullaby.

“So it’s finally working.”

She stepped forward, her face tilted slightly, amusement dancing behind her jade eye.

“Did you really think I’d let you touch my creations without consequence?” she asked sweetly. “One of the metals I fed to the lovely bird wasn’t ordinary. It was a poisonous essence stone. When its blade grazed your skin—well…” she let her words hang.

Wuhan’s eyes widened slightly as realization dawned.

He used his soul sense on himself and saw the wound on his arm had already turned dark. Black veins slithered around the wound, reaching towards his shoulder, slowly moving through his body using his own qi.

Helena’s expression was the only thing that did not change from the start. “It’s a slow-working venom, undetectable by ordinary means. It paralyzes gradually. Just enough to make sure you can feel your power slipping away… one breath at a time.”

As she spoke, the slug stopped retreating. It had floated back near her side, the bulbous sack of corrosive slime on its belly now the size of a boulder. It gurgled ominously, the sac pulsing as it charged with greater intensity.

Wuhan gritted his teeth.

The poison seemed to be working through his body even now. And all the while—the slug’s corrosive ball grew brighter; its color was the same pale whitish hue that he refused to let touch even his clothes.

Wuhan had realized how corrosive that thing was. One hit from it and he was a goner; there wouldn’t be anything left to regenerate.

Wuhan’s sword began to dim, the fire struggling to stay alive against the creeping paralysis.

And yet… he didn’t panic.

He glanced at the beard-beast; it did not seem to be doing well. Although it was not dead yet, the attack had damaged it enough to disengage its flying abilities. The bird now slowly descended through the skies, its whimpering voice echoing in the background.

Seeing the bird fall, Wuhan looked back at Helena; even though she called the beasts her cute babies, she did not seem to care about its cries at all.

As if seeing through his thoughts, Helena spoke, “No matter how injured they are, as long as they are not dead, I can always save my babies and return them to their peaks.”

Wuhan raised an eyebrow in reply, “Did I ask?”