Aksai had planned ahead, but for the most part his preparations were for fellow drifting cultivators or the demonic beasts in Duya Forest.
The ever-so-cautious Spirit farmer had even considered the potential intervention of the demonic cultivators into his equation.
However, he hadn’t anticipated facing the three major demonic sects head-on.
It felt like he’d studied hard for a math exam, only to arrive at the exam center and find a physics paper instead.
Aksai then glanced at his bound teammates again. Their expressions were grim, but there was a flicker of hope in their eyes as they looked at him, silently begging him to find a way out of this.
But Aksai wasn’t so sure anymore. Except for maybe Jian, he had no interest in saving his teammates. He had practically abandoned the other teammates who had decided to separate from him for their own reasons. Since they decided to leave him, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to go the extra mile for them even if he could.
‘Haah! Do you think I’m your savior? That I would sacrifice myself to get you out of the mess you helped create? You’re in for a rude awakening.’
Aksai muttered under his breath, his thoughts racing.
He had to be smart about this. He couldn’t afford to get reckless, not when his own life and future cultivation path were hanging in the balance.
***
Haitin stood quietly for a moment, observing Aksai’s silence.
Aksai kept his expression neutral, not revealing a single thought, as if the tense atmosphere around them didn’t affect him at all. Even if he was only pretending to stay calm, it was a worthy pretense.
Haitin, clearly amused by the situation, smiled and then gestured to his subordinates to retreat.
“Let’s give our friend some space,” Haitin said lightly, still watching Aksai closely. He turned to Aksai and added, “I’d appreciate it if you let Jian stay away as well. This is a matter between just the two of us.”
Aksai glanced at Jian, who stood beside him, and before he could respond, one of Haitin’s newer subordinates spoke up, his voice filled with concern.
“Wait, young master! Are you sure? This lowly man… Aksai could try something—he might attack you and use you as a hostage,” the subordinate said, clearly on edge.
The man had recently joined Haitin’s ranks and hadn’t yet seen enough to understand the situation fully. But before Haitin could even address the outburst, an older, more experienced cultivator, one who was in the late-stage of Foundation Building, stepped forward and placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
“You worry too much,” the senior cultivator said in a deep, assured voice. “Even if a Core Formation Lord were to appear, they wouldn’t be able to kill our young master in one move. You don’t need to concern yourself with Haitin’s safety.” He glanced at Aksai as he spoke, his eyes steady and full of warning. It was a clear message: ‘Don’t even think about it.’
Aksai met the man’s gaze, and while his face didn’t change, a trace of a wry smile appeared in his eyes. The senior cultivator’s confidence was certainly impressive, but Aksai wasn’t foolish enough to test it.
Haitin, meanwhile, didn’t say a word, letting the exchange happen. He simply waved his hand, signaling his subordinates to keep their distance.
Aksai mirrored the gesture, telling Jian to step back as well. Jian posed no threat to Haitin in the first place. He couldn’t even serve as a good distraction for half a second. Plus, from the looks of it, it was more of a casual talk. As such, Aksai didn’t waste time thinking about useless things.
Now, with the two of them standing alone, Aksai and Haitin turned to face Aksai’s captured teammates, who stood helpless with their cultivation bases sealed and expressions grim.
Haitin broke the silence with a playful grin. “So, what do you think, friend? Would you like to take me hostage? Why don’t you give it a try?”
Aksai chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t dare,” he replied, his tone calm but laced with irony.
“If your subordinates are so confident that even Core Formation Lords wouldn’t be able to touch you, it means you’ve got more than a few tricks up your sleeve. Why should I complicate things by doing something that’s not only futile but also against my own interests?”
Haitin smiled wider, clearly impressed. “Smart man,” he said softly, as if speaking more to himself than to Aksai. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on Aksai, almost as if sizing him up. “You keep your cool even when your life is hanging by a thread. I respect that.”
Aksai chuckled. “It’s just common sense,” he said, glancing again at his teammates. “The smart thing to do when you’re outmatched is to avoid making unnecessary moves.”
Haitin motioned for Aksai to follow, leading him toward Rong Zhi, who stood a short distance away. Rong Zhi had chosen to follow Lian Hua’s lead and the two had tried, in vain, to avoid Haitin’s strategic siege by circling around Jaishin Lake.
Now, with his cultivation base sealed and bound by restrictive Essence Equation runes, Rong Zhi was frozen in place—unable to speak or even move. The runes coiled over his skin like serpents, locking him in a powerless state.
As they approached, Haitin glanced at Aksai with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your teammates,” he began in a calm voice, “decided to deceive me by not coming to Jaishin Lake as we agreed. You can imagine how… disappointed I was.”
Aksai remained quiet, listening.
Haitin continued, his tone still casual, almost as if they were talking about something as mundane as the weather.
“To be honest, brother Aksai, I was really pissed off. I don’t appreciate being deceived.” His gaze flicked to Rong Zhi. “I think it’s only fair that you kill him. Consider it a gesture to appease my anger.”
Aksai processed Haitin’s words without much reaction. There was nothing particularly offensive in the request. In fact, Haitin’s tone suggested this was merely a logical course of action—a way to settle the score.
Rong Zhi, for all intents and purposes, was already as good as dead. His cultivation sealed, his body bound, and his mind likely grasping at the futility of his situation.
Without hesitation, Aksai walked closer to Rong Zhi, his expression unreadable. Rong Zhi stood before him, helpless, trapped in the slithering runes, unable to resist or even plead for mercy.
His eyes, wide with a mix of fear and silent desperation, met Aksai’s. But there was no pity in Aksai’s gaze, only a resigned understanding of what needed to be done.
Aksai let out a soft sigh, barely audible, before reaching into his storage space and drawing out his meteor sword. The gleaming blade shimmered as it materialized in his hand, casting a faint reflection of Rong Zhi’s pale face.
Aksai didn’t bother with words—there was nothing to say. He simply nodded at Rong Zhi, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, as if acknowledging the situation for what it was.
Then, with a single, fluid motion, Aksai swung the sword.
The blade cut through the air with a quiet, lethal hum, and in the blink of an eye, it met Rong Zhi’s neck.
Swoosh. Zoom. Chop.
There was no hesitation, no faltering in Aksai’s movement.
The force behind the swing was precise and measured, and in an instant, Rong Zhi’s head was severed cleanly from his body.
