As Aksai descended, his presence alone caused the argument to falter.
The cultivators noticed the approach of a Foundation Building Expert and began to quiet down. A sudden wave of authority had washed over the crowd.
The Spirit cultivators in the surroundings and Aram’s other mortal relatives quickly moved aside, making way for Aksai. They bowed deeply, their quarrel forgotten in the presence of someone far more powerful than any of them.
Aksai stepped off his sword and onto the ground, his eyes scanning the crowd with a calm, composed demeanor. “What is happening here?” he asked in a cold voice.
Everyone looked terrified. They suddenly started finding the ground to be the most interesting thing to look at. Some retreated subconsciously, clearly afraid of what Aksai would say or do to them.
One of the older cultivators, clearly a senior among them, mustered his courage and stepped forward, bowing again before speaking.
“Honorable island owner Aksai, we… We were discussing the matter of who should inherit Aram Talak’s position. It seems… we got a bit carried away.”
Aksai had been informed of the meeting beforehand by one of Talak clan members, who was trying to curry favor with him. However, Aksai wasn’t interested in controlling a small clan through a shadow handpcame to the meeting to settle the matter for once and all.
“A bit carried away?” another cultivator muttered under his breath, but a sharp look from Aksai silenced him immediately.
“I see,” Aksai said, nodding slightly. “This is an important matter, but shouting and fighting among yourselves will not solve anything. We need to handle this with the respect and decorum it deserves. Aram Talak may no longer be with us, but his legacy is still important to Emerald Cove.”
The crowd listened intently, their earlier bravado replaced by a sense of humility and respect. Aksai’s words had a grounding effect.
“Let’s move inside and discuss this matter properly,” Aksai continued. “We will find a fair and just solution that serves the best interests of everyone involved.”
Soon, Aksai was seen sitting on a spacious chair on a raised platform. Below him were the members of the Talak clan, sitting on their respective chairs or standing behind the chairs of their seniors.
“Our Emerald Cove values kindness and honesty,” Aksai spoke in a firm tone as he looked at the crowd with a neutral gaze.
“However, this is Dadangar. We all know that it is strength that gives meaning to kindness, honesty, and all the other virtues. Without strength to protect your beliefs, everything you do is meaningless.
This bickering over who gets Aram Talak’s position won’t end well unless someone strong and dependable rises among you as your clan leader. As such, I will help decide who gets Aram’s position based on your individual strength alone,” Aksai said, summoning one of his Sentient Scarecrow puppets in front of the crowd.
The crowd was immediately surprised when they looked at Aksai’s strange and creepy-looking puppet. They started murmuring among themselves as they realized what Aksai was up to.
Aksai stood before the Talak clan members, his expression calm and authoritative. “The rule is simple,” he announced. “Those who can stay fighting with my puppet for more than two minutes will be considered for the clan’s leadership position. I will act as the judge of this battle.”
The clan members exchanged uncertain glances, but their determination quickly solidified. Nobody was ready to oppose Aksai’s decision anyway.
They all agreed to the terms. Aksai led them to an open ground inside Aram’s palace, perfect for the duels ahead.
A variety of challengers stepped forward. Some were seasoned cultivators in the late stages of the Spirit Refining realm, their experience evident in their every move. Others were young and eager, their lack of advanced cultivation compensated by sheer enthusiasm and determination.
Aksai’s puppet, a Sentient Scarecrow, stood at the ready. The puppet, once Aram Talak himself, now wore a wooden mask and moved in a way that masked its true identity.
Aksai found it quite ironic that a puppet made from Aksai’s body and Soul Fragment was going to choose a successor for himself. Of course, since he had decided to keep Aram’s death a secret, he made Aram wear a wooden mask.
Aksai didn’t need to do anything. He just watched in silence as the clan members rushed to organize a battlefield at a moment’s notice.
Aksai watched with a neutral gaze as the battles began, silently judging each contestant’s performance.
The first few challengers were dispatched with ease. The puppet’s swift and precise movements, coupled with its ability to cast Spirit spells, took many by surprise. One by one, seven opponents. All of them fell within a minute, unable to withstand the puppet’s relentless assault.
Realizing the challenge ahead, the remaining contenders drew their weapons and invoked their Spirit spells right from the get-go.
Aksai handed his puppet a simple first-order sword, a gesture intended to bring out the swordsmanship skills of the Talak clan members.
The puppet wielded the sword with impressive skill, parrying attacks and launching counterattacks with deadly precision. It was a puppet made from Aram’s memories after all. The still held Aram’s swordsmanship skills when he was alive.
Despite its formidable prowess, the puppet held back, allowing the challengers to showcase their abilities. Aksai wanted to see their true potential, not just their ability to survive a merciless onslaught.
***
The sun cast long shadows across the open ground as Aksai’s puppet faced its next challenger.
This time, it was a middle-aged man named Joran, a late-stage Spirit Refining cultivator known for his prowess in both weaponry and spellcasting. He was a leader of his faction within the Talak clan.
Joran was determined to prove himself, and his eyes blazed with intensity as he faced the Sentient Scarecrow.
Joran unsheathed his twin curved blades, their edges glinting menacingly in the sunlight. He took a deep breath, centering himself before launching into a sprint toward the puppet. Aksai’s puppet, holding its first-order sword, stood its ground.
Joran’s blades clashed against the puppet’s sword with a resounding clang, sparks flying from the impact. He followed up with a rapid series of slashes, each strike aimed at a vital point.
The puppet moved with fluid precision, parrying and dodging with an almost eerie grace. The two combatants danced across the field, their weapons a blur of motion.
‘This puppet and the swordsmanship… although it’s a bit different… Why does it feel similar to the ancestor’s techniques?’ Joran thought to himself before quickly dismissing the idea.
Realizing that raw swordplay wouldn’t be enough, Joran leaped back and summoned his Spirit energy. With a flick of his wrist, he cast a Water Serpent spell.
A shimmering serpent made of water materialized, coiling and hissing as it lunged toward the puppet.
‘Interesting Spirit spell. I should ask them to make a copy,’ Aksai thought to himself.
The puppet responded by channeling its own Spirit energy, casting a Wall of Earth that rose from the ground to intercept the serpent.
The water serpent collided with the earthen wall, sending a spray of water and shards of earth in all directions.
Undeterred, Joran combined his twin blades into a single, larger weapon and infused it with Spirit energy, causing it to glow with a fierce blue light. He charged again, swinging the weapon in a wide arc.
The puppet met his attack head-on, their swords clashing with a force that shook the ground beneath them.
The puppet’s wooden mask remained expressionless, but its movements were anything but passive.
It parried Joran’s strikes with precision, its own sword crackling with latent energy.
Then, in a swift motion, the puppet cast a Fire Burst spell, sending a wave of flames toward Joran.