Liana watched in amazement as Aksai’s Sentient Scarecrows dove into the turbulent waters below.
The puppets moved with precision, retrieving the corpses of the Foundation Building Experts he had killed.
She observed as the puppets removed the storage rings from the corpses and slipped them onto their own fingers. Her eyes widened when she saw the puppets then proceed to store the bodies of Calla, Reesha, and Sia in the newly worn storage rings.
This was the so-called harvestation of the spoils of war. Apparently, Aksai had never forgotten to take what he had rightfully earned as a victor of the battle.
“Puppets that can use storage rings of their own? And they can also use Spirit spells? Can… can they even be called puppets at this point?” she murmured to herself, disbelief and awe coloring her voice.
No matter how high-grade and sophisticated 2nd-order puppets were, in the end, they were puppets. They didn’t have the ability to perform some subtle tasks. Only 4th-order puppets controlled by a genuine Nascent Soul King could possibly gain some sentience.
However, Aksai’s puppets broke those norms. Thanks to the subroutine neural link fabric and the soul-related techniques performed on them, these puppets started to act more and more like regular living beings.
Aksai’s puppets, having completed their task, acted as if they were Aksai’s well-trained subordinates rather than mere constructs. They needed no special orders from him, carrying out the clean-up operation with an efficiency that left Liana stunned.
She knew that no matter how advanced the Bloodfiend Art of her clan got, it could never produce results as astonishing as what Aksai’s puppet art achieved with such ease. It was not a matter of talent anymore.
Liana was certain that there was probably nobody else in the entire Dadangar subcontinent who could rival Aksai in the puppet arts. His skill was unparalleled, and his creations were far beyond anything she had ever seen or imagined.
And this was not even the most frightening thing about Aksai. What astonished her even more was the sight of him using the power of Qi along with martial arts to tackle his enemies at close range.
Firstly, she had never seen a regular Spirit cultivator using a strange silvery essence to tackle their enemies. Secondly, she could not believe someone like Aksai who was very good at manipulating puppets also had close range battle capabilities, which should be realistically impossible.
Usually, a puppet artist was not that good when it came to confronting someone head-on in close range. They didn’t have as solid a constitution as other cultivators due to the fact that they spent their time cultivating their puppet art. Their weapon proficiency was also subpar at best.
Thus, puppet artists had one fatal flaw– their inability to tackle close-range attacks. For example Liana’s grandpa Loshaar Lakir. This old man was exceptionally capable of manipulating multiple Blood Fiends on the battlefield. However, he was vulnerable to close-range attacks.
This was the reason Loshaar liked using the Blood Thorns around him. These Blood Thorns acted as offense and defense while preventing his enemies from approaching him. He had also worn various protective-type artifacts and talismans on his personnel to cover his fatal flaw.
However, Aksai broke that convention about being a puppet artist as well. It seemed that he was even better than most sword cultivators when it came to tackling enemies at close range and midrange.
He didn’t have the vulnerabilities that bugged other puppet artists. In fact, despite being a great puppet artist, it seemed that Aksai was not that keen on using puppet art extensively. Instead, he used it as a way to create an opening for him that he could use to strike his enemies.
As Aksai hadn’t labeled Liana as an enemy, his puppets did not attack her. One of the puppets even looked at her and offered a courteous bow before flying off in the direction Aksai had gone, leaving her alone at the site.
Liana stood there, processing everything she had just witnessed. It had hardly been a few seconds since Aksai had gotten rid of Calla, and she could still vaguely see him approaching the battlefield where her grandpa elder and his enemies were engaged in combat.
With so many questions swirling in her mind, Liana decided she needed to follow Aksai and find out more. Determined to get the answers she sought, she willed her flying sword to follow him.
***
Loshaar’s location. In the middle of an unnamed forest.
The moonlight filtered through the scorched branches of the forest, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield.
The once lush landscape was now a desolate wasteland, marked by the violent clash between the six Foundation Building Experts.
The air was filled with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of burnt vegetation.
Loshaar Lakir stood at the center of the chaos, his long white beard matted with blood and dirt. Neither he or his allies had the strength to use the flying artifacts. Thankfully, their enemies were also in similar situations.
Loshaar’s eyes, usually filled with a cunning light, were now hard and focused. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a barrage of Blood Thorns, crimson tendrils that twisted and writhed like serpents, aimed straight at the approaching enemies.
Zeesham Zhan, his scarred face twisted in concentration, raised his hand to summon a wall of shimmering energy. The defensive spell flickered for a moment before solidifying, absorbing the impact of the Blood Thorns with a dull thud.
Beside him, Wen Lin retaliated with a flurry of water-based Spirit spells. Streams of high-pressure water shot from his palms, slicing through the air towards Loshaar.
Kau Lou, standing to Loshaar’s right, countered with a fireball spell, the flames roaring to life and evaporating the incoming water attacks in a burst of steam.
Shen Ji, on Loshaar’s left, wielded his flying sword with precision, directing it towards his enemy.
Mo Jie, who was desperately deflecting the attacks with his own weapon—a gleaming halberd that sparked with each clash.
The battle between the two groups had reached a critical point.
Both sides of Spirit cultivators had been heavily injured, their once formidable auras now flickering like dying flames.
Each group had unleashed their trump cards, turning the battle into a chaotic maelstrom.
The demonic faction had a numerical advantage, thanks to Loshaar Lakir’s three 2nd-order Flying Blood Fiends.
These nightmarish creatures had initially given them an edge, but the righteous faction members had been equipped with precious resources from their respective sects.
The battlefield was littered with spent talismans, torn scrolls, shattered artifacts, and the remnants of powerful Spirit spells. The so-called edges both sides had were chipped away due to fierce clashes that took place in a relatively short time.
Now, the six Foundation Building Experts were running low on their respective Spirit essence reserves. Their bodies were bloody, their breaths haggard, their expressions full of wariness, and their auras fluctuating wildly, representing their unstable conditions.
The ground below these cultivators bore the marks of their fierce battle. A barren patch had been created in the middle of the unnamed forest due to the relentless unleashing of Spirit spells.
Trees had been uprooted, and the earth was scorched and torn asunder. The lifeless bodies of late-stage Spirit Refining cultivators lay motionless, their blood and organs staining the ground.
The six Foundation Building Experts circled each other warily, their eyes darting between their opponents and the surroundings. Each breath they took was a struggle, each movement a reminder of the toll the battle had taken on their bodies.
Both sides knew that the next few moves would be critical, and none dared to make the first strike, each waiting for the other to show a moment of weakness.
The tension in the air was palpable as the six Foundation Building Experts sensed someone approaching their battlefield. Each of them, already wary from the intense battle, tried to discern the identity of the incoming Spirit cultivator. Their concentration faltered, breaths held as they strained their senses.
Suddenly, a voice boomed through the chaos. “Expert Loshaar, I have returned to help you!” Ruan’s declaration rang clear as he flew straight toward Loshaar Lakir. Relief washed over Loshaar, Shen Ji, and Kau Lou, their expressions brightening with hope. Reinforcement had arrived. Although Ruan had fled the battlefield earlier, they were willing to overlook that lapse if he could help them turn the tide.
On the other side, Zeesham, Wen Lin, and Mo Jie scowled as they saw Ruan approaching from behind Loshaar. Zeesham spat in frustration, cursing Calla, Reesha, and Sia for their incompetence. “Those pathetic women couldn’t even keep a junior away from meddling in the battle,” he growled, unaware that Ruan had already dealt with them decisively. He could only assume Ruan had tricked them, then returned to rejoin the fray.
Zeesham’s wariness grew as he realized the significance of Ruan’s uninjured appearance. Though they had initially dismissed him as inconsequential, Ruan’s return now posed a significant threat. With both sides exhausted, his presence could tip the balance in Loshaar’s favor.
“Be ready to retreat,” Zeesham communicated secretly to his allies using his Spirit Sense. “We’ll find an opportunity to head back to Cavereach City. We can rely on its defensive formations for now and call for reinforcements.”
Mo Jie and Wen Lin nodded in agreement. Though fleeing from demonic cultivators was shameful, they understood the necessity of a tactical retreat.
Ruan landed gracefully not far from Loshaar, who greeted him with a mixture of relief and joy. “Hahaha, good lad. I had doubted you earlier because of your scared nature. But I was wrong. It turns out you were merely trying to split the enemy forces. Come, fight alongside us and the Lakir Clan will treat you well.” Loshaar’s encouragement came with a hearty pat on Ruan’s back.
As Loshaar spoke, they sensed another Spirit cultivator flying toward them from the same direction Ruan had come. Loshaar’s eyes sparkled with delight, while Zeesham cursed and gritted his teeth in frustration. The demonic faction had gained another reinforcement—Liana Lakir, who had been chasing after Ruan.
Liana’s face was a mask of panic as she saw Ruan close to Loshaar. “Grandpa elder, stay away from that man!” she cried out, her voice tinged with desperation.
“Hm? Lass, what do you—” Loshaar’s words were cut short as a sword pierced his back, emerging from the other side, the blade dripping with his blood. The one holding the sword was none other than Ruan, the supposed reinforcement.
Loshaar gasped, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal. He tried to speak, but only blood bubbled from his lips. The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat, the magnitude of the betrayal sinking in.
Ruan twisted the sword with a cold, detached expression. “I don’t need your clan’s rewards. I’ll get what’s rightfully mine on my own merits, old man,” he said, his voice steady and calm. Loshaar crumpled to the ground, his life force fading rapidly.
Shen Ji and Kau Lou’s hopeful expressions turned to horror, while Zeesham, Wen Lin, and Mo Jie watched with a mixture of shock and wary anticipation.
The battle had taken a sudden, violent turn, and the balance of power had shifted once again. Ruan had tipped the scales in nobody’s favour.