A few hundred miles away from Emerald Cove. Dadangar.
Two hours after Aksai had left the small abandoned island, a group of five Spirit cultivators descended upon it.
Leading the group was Shen Ji, a formidable Foundation Building Expert whose aura radiated power and authority.
Clad in black, Shen Ji’s emerald eyes gleamed with cunning and ruthlessness.
The other four cultivators, all in the late-stage Spirit Refining realm, followed closely. Two were Spirit Refining Perfectionists, while the remaining two were at the 9th stage of the Spirit Refining realm. Half of their faces were concealed by black masks, adding an air of mystery to their presence.
Shen Ji surveyed the island with a scrutinizing gaze before addressing his subordinates. “Spread out and plant these runic banners,” he ordered, handing each of them a banner. “We’ll use formation to track our target.”
The four cultivators nodded and swiftly moved to their assigned positions. With precise movements, they planted the banners into the ground, forming the vertices of a square. As the last banner was placed, a spectral Array Formation rose around them, shimmering with ethereal light.
Within moments, a spectral rendition of Aksai appeared on the island. The phantom figure began to mimic the actions Aksai had taken earlier.
“There he is– our target.”
Shen Ji and his subordinates watched intently as the spectral Aksai landed, scanned the area, and summoned his earth-element Spirit spell to create a cave.
“It looks like he is wary of the unknown threats. He… he is smart.”
Shen Ji’s eyes narrowed as he observed the spectral Aksai sealing the entrance and performing some sort of transformation inside.
However, when the spectral version of Aksai attempted to replicate his martial arts technique, the tracking Array Formation faltered and distorted.
“What… What in the world did he do here? What kind of Spirit spell was this? Did… did he know we were tracking him and took countermeasures against us?” Shen Ji questioned himself as he looked at Aksai’s blurred spectral rendition, which was the sign of the tracking formation’s failure to track Aksai completely.
What Shen Ji didn’t know was that Aksai was not aware that he was being tracked by his enemies. It was the qi-based technique he had used to change his appearance that disrupted the formation, causing it to flicker and fail.
Frustration etched across Shen Ji’s face even though his mask kept it hidden for the most part. He didn’t know that Aksai had changed his appearance with the qi-based technique as a precaution and not as a countermeasure against him.
“What do we do now, Master Shen Ji?” one of the junior cultivators asked, stepping forward hesitantly.
Shen Ji pondered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the blurred spectral form of Aksai. “It seems that guy Aksai is a lot more crafty than we gave him credit for,” he began, his voice tinged with annoyance.
“I thought I had taken sufficient measures to catch him off guard after giving him a head start. But it seems it was a bad idea. Fret not, though.”
He turned to his subordinates with a determined look. “Though it would be a bit of trouble, we’ll use the Ghostly Pursuit Formation on a wide area in a grid format. This turtle has finally come out of his shell. It would be bad for our reputation if we let him go just like that.”
Shen Ji laughed, a sinister sound that echoed through the island. His green eyes glinted with malice as he looked at the blurred spectral form of Aksai. “Hahaha.”
The four subordinates nodded in agreement, their expressions resolute. They began to dismantle the current formation, ready to implement Shen Ji’s new plan.
As they worked, Shen Ji continued to watch the spectral Aksai, his mind already strategizing their next move.
The hunt for Aksai was far from over, and Shen Ji was determined to capture him, no matter the cost.
***
A few days later.
Aksai stood on his nameless flying sword, the cool breeze ruffling his now-roughened, bulky frame.
The transformation was complete—he looked every bit the rugged, middle-aged man with a scar on his face, his youthful features buried beneath layers of hardened experience. His aura, now suppressed to that of a Spirit Refining Perfectionist, melded seamlessly with his new appearance.
He approached the bustling city that had sprung up around the entrance to the ancient Core Formation Lord’s cultivation cave. The island itself had become a renowned hub of activity in recent years.
The city was thriving, filled with all kinds of forces and organizations, each keeping the others in check, fostering a sense of balance and peace. The council, composed of representatives from major forces within the Dadangar subcontinent, ensured the city remained calm and commerce flourished.
As Aksai descended, he marveled at the city’s vibrancy that was apparent beyond the city walls from a vantage point.
Stalls and shops lined the streets, their vendors calling out to prospective buyers. Cultivators of all levels bustled about, preparing for their adventures into the 3rd-order cave or selling their treasures and spoils.
The city council’s presence was evident, their regulatory influence keeping the chaos at bay and ensuring fair access to the cave’s separate dimension.
“Haah. No matter how pretty things look from here, it’s all a farce. Who knows how many Spirit cultivators have died ever since the appearance of the cave’s entrance,” Aksai thought to himself and sighed.
He then reminded himself that he was here to check out the city markets and grab onto anything that seemed interesting to his eyes.
The rich and loaded Spirit farmer wasn’t here to explore the 3rd-order cave himself.
He would rather pay extra to buy the resources countless Spirit cultivators have collected from the cave by risking their lives to get them.
Landing a short distance from the city gates, Aksai dismounted from his sword and began walking towards the entrance. His gait was confident but unhurried, the embodiment of a seasoned cultivator ready to try his luck.
A group of city guards, clad in sturdy armor and bearing the council’s insignia, intercepted him at the gate.
One of them, a tall man with a stern expression, stepped forward. “Halt,” he commanded, holding up a hand. “State your name and purpose.”
Aksai nodded respectfully, offering a slight bow. “My name is Ruan Lei,” he said, using the false identity he had prepared. He didn’t find any issue in borrowing the first and last names of his subordinates and merging them together for his false identity.
“I’ve come to try my luck in the separate dimension of the Core Formation Lord’s cave,” Ruan AKA Aksai said casually. Both he and the head guard were in the same cultivation realm. As such, Aksai did not have to be too formal in greeting the guard.
The guard scrutinized him for a moment before nodding to his comrades. They activated a simple Array Formation, its runes glowing softly as they assessed Aksai’s cultivation base. The formation confirmed his status as a Spirit Refining Perfectionist.
Satisfied, the guard produced an identity token and handed it to Aksai. “This token will serve as your identification within the city,” he explained. “It records your name, appearance, and cultivation base. Remember, any trouble you cause will be swiftly dealt with by the council. Behave yourself, and you’ll find the city welcoming.”
Aksai accepted the token with a nod of thanks. “I understand. I have no intention of causing any trouble.”
The guard stepped aside, allowing Aksai to enter the city. As he walked through the gates, he couldn’t help but admire the city’s organization and the sheer variety of cultivators present.
Shops offering talismans, weapons, and elixirs lined the streets, each vying for the attention of those preparing for their explorations. Brokers called out to those returning from the cave, eager to appraise and purchase their treasures.
Aksai blended into the crowd, his eyes sharp and observant. His altered appearance and suppressed cultivation made him just another face in the throng of hopeful adventurers.
Aksai walked through the bustling market, his eyes scanning the myriad of shops and stalls. Each one seemed to offer something different. But he wasn’t looking for the typical.
His gaze finally settled on a small, unassuming shop tucked away in a quieter corner of the market. The sign above the door read “Mysteries and Relics,” its letters painted in faded gold.
The windows were cluttered with an eclectic mix of items: strange artifacts, dusty tomes, and peculiar trinkets that didn’t quite belong in the more mainstream shops.
Pushing open the creaky door, Aksai stepped inside. The shop was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of old paper and incense. Shelves lined the walls, each crammed with a bewildering assortment of objects. An old clock ticked somewhere in the background, adding to the shop’s timeless, almost eerie atmosphere.
“Welcome, traveler,” came a smooth, melodic voice from behind the counter. Aksai turned to see a woman with striking features and sharp, intelligent eyes.
She looked to be in her early 30s by mortal standards, her dark hair neatly tied back, with a few strands artfully framing her face. She wore a simple yet elegant robe, and her demeanor exuded a mix of charm and cunning.
“I’m Shameen Kaal,” she introduced herself with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What brings you to my humble shop?”