‘Damn it. All I wanted was to get my hands on a damn turtle beast and start my Aether cultivation for real. Why do I have to deal with this mess?’
Aksai cursed inwardly. His head throbbed, and the situation felt like a spiraling headache with no cure in sight. The weight of the mess he was in gnawed at him, though he kept his outward calm.
He glanced briefly at Bai’s lifeless body, his expression unchanged. Sympathy wasn’t something he could afford to feel right now.
‘They should be thanking me,’ he mused bitterly. In his mind, he had spared them a fate far worse than a quick death. If Haitin had decided to handle the executions himself, his demonic tendencies would have likely dragged their suffering out over hours, maybe even days—torture, humiliation, agony—all things Aksai had spared them from.
Still, none of this gave him any pleasure. He didn’t care how impressed Haitin seemed by his cold efficiency. The more he did for Haitin, the more aggrieved he felt, like he was being roped into a script he had no interest in following.
Every kill Haitin requested of him felt like another step deeper into a quagmire he hadn’t asked for. He didn’t feel any psychological dilemma because he killed his teammates. However, the fact that he had to kill because someone told him to wasn’t a pleasant experience.
It was ironic—Aksai had come to the Wild Devil Lands to pursue his own goals, to capture the Aether Beast and forge his own path. Yet here he was, playing executioner in a drama he never wanted to be a part of.
Haitin’s smile widened as he looked at Aksai, clearly pleased with how things had unfolded.
“Congratulations, brother,” he said, his tone casual yet laced with amusement. “I will no longer kill you. You have no idea how glad I am for saying this. And it was your actions that allowed me to show you some mercy.
Haha. I’m glad we could come to an understanding. I really didn’t want to kill someone like you who can understand me.”
Aksai blinked, his neutral expression barely shifting, but inwardly he was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected such an abrupt resolution. Initially, when Haitin demanded that he kill Rong Zhi, Aksai saw it as a way for Haitin to vent his anger, a necessary evil to keep the situation from escalating.
He had gone along with it, knowing there wasn’t much of a choice. Then, when Haitin had ordered him to kill Bai Yu, Aksai assumed it was just the beginning of a gruesome ritual where his other teammates would soon meet the same fate.
But now? Haitin had suddenly declared an end to it. Just like that?
Haitin’s demeanor was casual, as though the whole ordeal had been nothing more than an elaborate game. And perhaps to him, it was. Haitin wasn’t the type to torture without reason—though his actions were brutal, they were calculated, part of a larger, more intricate design.
He wasn’t one of those mindless demonic cultivators who thrived on senseless cruelty. There was always a reason behind his ruthlessness, a purpose behind his tests.
The truth was, Haitin’s methods had a certain logic to them. He had his own code, a set of internal rules he followed, even if they were warped by the standards of the righteous cultivators. His tests, brutal though they were, had clear parameters.
When those were met, Haitin adhered to his word, as if he believed that the effectiveness of his manipulation relied on maintaining a strange kind of fairness.
Aksai could see it now, as he replayed the events in his mind. Rong Zhi’s death had been about appeasing Haitin’s anger. Once that anger was gone, there was no need for further punishment born out of anger.
Bai Yu’s death, on the other hand, had been a test—one designed to gauge Aksai’s resolve, to see if he could stand firm when the stakes were high and the consequences dire.
Haitin’s demands were never random, even though they appeared that way at first. Aksai realized now that Haitin was playing a deeper game, one where every action had layers of meaning. It wasn’t just about exerting control—it was about seeing how far he could push, how much he could manipulate, without crossing his own lines.
Still, Aksai hadn’t expected the man to follow through so cleanly. There was a part of him, cynical and hardened from years of survival, that had assumed Haitin would keep pushing, keep testing until Aksai had no more teammates left. But now, as Haitin stood there, smiling and relaxed, Aksai had to admit that the man was indeed more dangerous than he had initially thought.
Who was more dangerous? One who was prone to act in the feat of anger? Or one who could control his emotions and take actions based on what was important to him?
It was a strange relief, though it left Aksai feeling even more uneasy. He hadn’t wanted to impress Haitin, hadn’t wanted to get drawn into his manipulative games. Yet here he was, having passed a test he didn’t even want to take.
“Surprised?” Haitin asked, his smile shifting to something more knowing. “I said I wouldn’t kill you as long as you do what I tell you to, and I meant it. You’ve done everything I asked, and I don’t believe in unnecessary cruelty.”
Haitin then took measured steps toward Lini Lowanfield, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Brother Aksai,” he began, smiling back at Aksai.
“I won’t ask you to do anything against your will. And it wouldn’t be a trick question either. But I do have something I can use your help with. Whether or not you do it, the choice is yours.”
Haitin was done threatening Aksai. It was now time to allure him with benefits. He had to be honest about what he was about to say to Aksai.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to get the Heretic Talismanic Inheritance from him.