SSS rank Mother-In-Law to an Invincible Family - Chapter 476

Capítulo 476: The Beast Faction Plans To Hide And Wait

The second cultivator picked up a broken branch from the ground, rolling it between his fingers as he walked.

“This forest’s going to remember what we did,” he muttered.

“Forests don’t remember,” the first said calmly.

“Then I guess we’ll have to be the ones who do.”

“No. But people do.”

The first didn’t argue.

They kept walking.

Eventually, they reached a narrow ridge where the trees thinned and the wind came through clean and crisp. From there, they could see the roofs of a distant village tucked between the hills.

Home.

Or something like it.

The second cultivator exhaled slowly. “You think we should tell the others?”

The first thought about it.

“They’ll figure it out soon. We’ll either be asked to lead… or to leave.”

The second gave a quiet laugh. “Let them try.”

Out on the ocean, just like before, the giant turtle moved slowly through the waves. Its back was still covered in rough stone ridges, with glowing lines of algae running through the cracks.

Flags from different beast tribes were tied to the tall bone poles jutting out of its shell. This was the same old sea turtle the Beast Faction used as their floating base—a living island and meeting place for their leaders.

Inside the big stone hall built into its back, the clan heads sat in a circle. Some had horns, others claws.

A few were still half-shifted, keeping their battle forms partly out. None of them spoke. The room was quiet.

At the far end of the chamber stood the Psychic, eyes half-lidded, arms folded behind his back.

He finally spoke.

“It failed.”

The words were simple. Flat. Final.

Across the room, a white-furred lion warrior growled. “Explain.”

The Psychic’s voice didn’t rise. “The interference campaign. The supply chain disruption. The proxy skirmishes. All of it.”

A scaled elder leaned forward, voice low. “You said the humans would collapse because they were divided. That they’d break under pressure.”

“I said that was one outcome,” the Psychic replied. “The likely one. But they didn’t collapse. They adapted.”

The lion slammed a fist onto the stone floor. “Adapted how?”

The Psychic raised his hand, and mist formed in the air. Images rippled into view—training camps expanding, cities stabilizing, academies reopening with stronger security and faster promotions.

“Our aggression pushed them, not into chaos, but into efficiency. Their responses grew sharper.

Their reactions are more disciplined. They began to cooperate across regions that previously ignored each other.”

Another elder—with feathers along his arms and golden pupils—spoke in disbelief. “They were too slow to coordinate before. It took them weeks to react.”

“Now it takes days,” the Psychic said. “In some areas, hours.”

The tiger chieftain grunted. “We struck their resource convoys. Poisoned their food stores. Hit their internal transport. How did that make them stronger?”

“They centralized,” the Psychic said. “They stopped hoarding and started sharing. What we thought would make them greedy… made them unified.

Every loss we inflicted became a reason for someone new to stand up.”

The bear matriarch exhaled through her nose. “So we helped them.”

“Unintentionally,” the Psychic said. “We gave them pressure—and they used it to forge themselves.”

There was silence again.

Then a smaller voice, young and sharp, came from the back.

“Then the operation was a gift.”

Everyone turned. It was the Foxkin envoy. Different from the monster faction, this one had more animalistic features than human ones and was barely past its first century.

Still considered a minor noble by many, but his words carried weight because they were blunt.

The Psychic didn’t deny it. “Yes. In effect, we gifted them breathing room. A common enemy. A reason to put their petty differences aside.”

The lion stood. “So what now? We admit failure and let them rise?”

“No,” the Psychic said. “We learn. And we hold the line.”

He turned, revealing a new projection—a crater. Deep. Jagged. Still steaming. Two figures stood in the center, fading from view.

“They’re not just stronger in systems. They’re stronger in cultivation. Voidbreak levels are appearing earlier than predicted.

Not from noble clans, but from middle-lineage cultivators. The ones we thought would crumble first.”

The scaled elder hissed. “And those two in the crater?”

“Wildcards. Both were unknown before this year. One came from a minor academy. The other was from a no-name militia unit. Now they’re centerpieces.”

“Did they kill anyone important?”

“No,” the Psychic replied. “They didn’t need to. They changed momentum.”

Another image appeared—human refugees being rearmed and retrained by the newly built field corps. Even the outer villages were receiving formation training and qi shielding.

The hawk elder clicked his beak. “We’ve lost initiative.”

“Yes,” the Psychic confirmed. “And we won’t get it back with another attack. They’re expecting one.”

The boar warlord grumbled, tusks twitching. “Then we wait?”

“No. We watch,” the Psychic said. “And we adjust. They’re feeding on pressure now. So we stop feeding them.”

The lion growled low. “You mean we retreat.”

“I mean, we stop giving them a common enemy. Let their momentum cool. Let their unity fracture naturally—if it will. But if we push now, we’ll only make them burn hotter.”

A deep silence followed. Tension thickened.

The bear matriarch finally nodded. “We thought they were crabs in a bucket. Turns out, we were the bucket.”

The room didn’t laugh. No one did.

But no one argued either.

The Psychic stepped forward, claws clicking softly on the stone.

“If they had fractured—today, we’d be preparing to take three cities. Instead, we’re patching holes in our coastal push.

Instead of dividing, they’ve built bridges between sects. They’ve shared techniques. And worst of all—”

He pointed back to the image of the crater.

“They’ve found inspiration. The kind that spreads faster than fire.”

The youngest in the room muttered, “So what now?”

The Psychic stared out through the open wall, where ocean stretched far beyond the horizon.

“Now we clean up our own side. We shut down rogue elements. No more chaotic raids. We regulate what we touch. And we make sure when we strike next… it actually breaks something.”

No one clapped. There were no cheers.

But the mood shifted.

Slower nods. Fewer clenched jaws.

Even the lion stepped back down.

The beast faction had pushed first—and lost the round.

But they weren’t finished.

They would learn.

And next time, they would strike with clarity.

The turtle turned gently in the ocean, shifting its course south.

Far off, past waves and coasts, lay the humans they once underestimated.

They wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

Like it ? Add to library！