There was a majestic-looking mountain peak in Zenith Ridge.
The mountain’s summit would get kissed by the golden rays of the sun at dawn.
Towering high above the surrounding landscape, the peak commanded attention.
This peak was referred to as the Shamrock Peak.
At the foot of the mountain lay a small village, nestled amidst verdant valleys and lush forests. There, mortals went about their daily lives, their simple existence shaped by the towering presence of the mountain above.
Wooden cottages with thatched roofs dotted the landscape, their chimneys billowing smoke into the crisp mountain air.
The villagers depended on the bounty of the land for their sustenance. They tilled the fertile soil, tended to their livestock, and gathered around communal hearths to share stories passed down through generations. Life there moved at a slower pace, in harmony with the rhythms of nature.
For generations, that mountain and the village at its base had stood as silent witnesses to the ebb and flow of time. Though the world changed around them, the spirit of the mountain endured, a timeless guardian watching over the humble lives below.
On this day. A certain someone appeared from the sky to lay claim to this mountain and make it their home.
As the villagers went about their evening routines, a collective gasp echoed through the village square.
“Im— Im— Immortal!”
“It’s an Immortal!”
“Tell… tell it to others!”
“We have to greet him.”
“Let’s gather outside the village!”
“Whaaaa! So cool! He can fly!”
“Mother, can– can I become an Immortal like him?”
“Don’t talk so casually dear. What if the Immortal gets angry? Be a good boy and don’t speak?”
“We… we greet the Immortal!”
“Aaaaaah!”
“…..”
“….”
….
All eyes turned skyward, drawn to the sight that unfolded before them.
There, silhouetted against the setting sun, was Aksai, standing gracefully upon a Lian Flying Sword suspended a few meters above the ground, like a figure from the ancient tales of immortals.
“This… this is the same cultivator who was with the Island owner that day when… you know when… the rivers of blood flowed through the streets,” a hushed voice was heard from somewhere.
“No way… what… What is he doing here?” asked another hushed voice in response.
“That’s what we are about to find out. I hope this cultivator is not as selfish as that lecher Kaelen. Otherwise, there won’t be any difference in our lives even if the island has changed its ownership,” another hushed voice chimed in.
“He… he is so young!”
“And handsome!”
“I… I wonder if the Immortal can accept me as his concubine.”
“Haah! Dream on! He must have bedded more beautiful women than you. You are better off marrying someone like me.”
“Hmph! I am willing to serve as the Immortal’s maidservant instead of marrying someone like you.”
“Sigh. I wonder why girls like Spirit cultivators over us hard-working men?”
“Right? That Immortal… he… he looks like a demonic cultivator pretending to be righteous.”
“….”
“….”
***
‘You judgemental jackasses! I can hear you just fine, you know.’
Aksai’s left eye twitched with a mix of emotions as he overheard the villagers’ whispered conversations about him.
Unbeknownst to them, as a Spirit cultivator with outward Spirit Sense the ability to fine-tune ambient noises using the neural link fabric, he could decipher their hushed tones with ease.
‘Haah! Forget it. I gain nothing from bullying these mortals.’
The Spirit farmer chose to feign ignorance and allowed the mortals time to gather outside the village to greet him.
Soon, word spread like wildfire throughout the village that Aksai awaited their presence just beyond its borders. From the farthest reaches of the settlement, he stood motionless upon his flying sword, casting an imposing figure that left the mortal villagers awestruck by his supernatural presence.
Surprise, shock, and awe coursed through the villagers like a sudden gust of wind. Mouths hung agape, and whispers of disbelief permeated the air.
While aware of the existence of Spirit cultivators capable of flight, direct encounters with them remained a rarity, rendering such occasions truly extraordinary events in the eyes of the mortals.
Even among the low-stage Spirit cultivators, those with the ability to achieve pseudo-flight through the use of available tools were revered as true practitioners of their craft.
To the mortals, they were akin to Immortals—not in the sense of longevity, but as beings beyond their mortal grasp, endowed with abilities far beyond their wildest dreams.
This was why those Spirit cultivators who could fly were often referred to as the Immortals by the mortal population.
‘Hmm. I wonder if any of Kaelen’s subordinates are among these villagers. I hope not. I don’t want to soil my fresh robes after all the killing I’ve done these past few days.’
Aksai mused to himself. He looked down upon the villagers with a neutral expression, sensing the palpable fear rippling through the crowd.
Some exchanged nervous glances, their hearts pounding with trepidation at the sight before them. Was this an omen, a harbinger of impending doom?
As they hurried to gather outside the village, murmuring among themselves in hushed voices, they speculated about the mysterious Spirit cultivator who now graced their humble abode.
“We greet the Immortal!”
With trembling hands and fearful hearts, the villagers assembled outside the village, heads bowed in reverence before Aksai.
They offered him a collective kowtow as soon as they all gathered outside the village, a gesture of respect and submission to this enigmatic figure.
“I am Aksai Everwood. And as of today, I have been entrusted with the responsibility of overseeing the entire Zenith Ridge,” Aksai stated in a neutral tone as he introduced himself to the villagers.
“I require laborers—carpenters, stonemasons, farmers, and others—who can assist me in constructing my residence on Shamrock Peak. You will be fairly compensated for your work. Who among you is willing to accept this offer?”
Aksai asked, his gaze neutral as he surveyed the mortals gathered below him.
“We… we get to work for an Immortal?”
“Did… did he say that we can get compensated for working for him?”
Eager murmurs rippled through the crowd as Aksai’s offer echoed in the air. The villagers exchanged excited glances, their faces alight with hope at the prospect of earning generous compensation from the enigmatic figure above them.
To them, the chance to work for an “Immortal” was a big opportunity, meaning the chance to secure their livelihoods for months to come.
“Lord Immortal… I… I am willing.”
“Please… please pick me, Island owner. I am very skilled in my carpentry, my lord.”
“My lord, I am willing to put all my efforts as a stonemason to make you the best residence.”
“My lord, I can….”
“Immortal Lord Aksai, please choose my daughter to be your con–”
“Island owner…”
“Is—”
…
Hands shot up eagerly as villagers volunteered to join Aksai’s workforce, each hoping to secure a place in his service.