A Farmer's Journey To Immortality

Chapter 695: Looting First Supreme P3

A cold sweat ran down Saarken’s back.

In the next moment, Saarken’s eyes hardened. The fear did not disappear, but it was buried under determination.

He gave up the thought of looting the farm.

This place was part of the Enchanted Everwood Farm. The artifact behind it was something far beyond his reach. He could never dare to imagine owning such a thing. Even if it somehow fell into his hands, it would only bring endless trouble and death.

He was not foolish enough to chase that kind of disaster.

What he could do… was survive.

Saarken shifted his focus fully onto Aksai.

As long as he killed Aksai or forced him to lose control of this place, the spatial trap would break. After that, he would flee without looking back. That was his only path left.

Saarken took a deep breath. Killing intent surged from his body as his Spirit essence began to move wildly. His eyes locked onto Aksai.

“I just need to deal with you,” he muttered under his breath.

Saarken then raised his bow and pointed it straight at Aksai. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from strain. He forced his Spirit Sense into the bow once more, pushing it far beyond what felt safe. At the same time, he burned through his mental energy without holding back.

An ethereal arrow slowly formed on the bowstring.

Saarken’s breathing turned rough. Sweat poured down his face and soaked his robes. His heart beat so fast that it felt like it might burst out of his chest. Dark spots danced at the edge of his vision, but he clenched his teeth and held on.

This artifact of his took a lot of toll on all of his reserves. Sometimes he wondered if it was really a 3rd Order artifact or something beyond that grade. After all, even though he was a bit spent before using the artifact, it should have still allowed him to use a few more arrows considering the fact that he was already a late-stage Core Formation Lord.

Saarken got rid of his distracting thoughts and focused. Across from him, Aksai watched calmly.

A faint smirk appeared on Aksai’s face. He lifted one hand and aimed it casually toward Saarken, as if he were about to strike back.

“Well?” Aksai said lightly. “What are you waiting for? Fire.”

’This brat… he dares belltiel me?’

Saarken’s eyes burned with anger. He let out a low growl and released the bowstring.

The ethereal arrow shot forward with terrifying speed. It cut through the air like a silent scream, carrying all of Saarken’s remaining strength.

Vines and thick roots surged up from the ground and the air, trying to block its path. The arrow passed straight through them as if they were mist.

Saarken’s eyes lit up. But just before the arrow reached Aksai, the space around him twisted.

A strange ripple spread through the air, like water being disturbed. A thin spatial rift opened in front of Aksai, bending the world around it. The ethereal arrow flew straight into the ripple and vanished without a sound.

Gone.

Aksai threw his head back and laughed.

“Hahaha. Is that all?” he said. “Go on. Fire again. I’m standing right here.”

After trapping Saarken, Aksai never intended to let him go. And he liked bullying such enemies, deriving pleasures from their miseries. Why should only antagonists possess such attributes? Aksai liked to think that some things should be done for their cathartic value.

Saarken froze. His smile faded. His face turned stiff as a terrible thought hit him. Only then did he understand.

Aksai had never been in danger.

From the very start, he had been baiting him, letting him waste his strength again and again. Inside the Everwood Farm, Saarken could not harm him at all.

Saarken lowered his bow slightly. His chest rose and fell as despair crept into his eyes. He gritted his teeth and pulled the bow back into his storage ring. His eyes locked onto Aksai.

“If I can’t kill you from afar,” he growled, “then I’ll do it myself using my own two hands.”

As a late-stage Core Formation Lord, Saarken was very confident in his physical abilities. Not only had he had various techniques to boost his physical stats but his isolated training often included close-range combats as well. One could say that Saarken was one of the rare Spirit cultivators who not only depended on their Spirit Spells but could also fight using their hands and kicks as well.

The First Supreme kicked the air and charged forward, his body cutting through space with raw force.

However, the moment the bow vanished, the land itself seemed to respond. It was as if the Demon Tree was waiting for this moment.

Its massive trunk pulsed, and thick roots burst from the ground. Long vines lashed out from above and the sides, moving like living chains. They rushed toward Saarken, trying to block his path and bind his limbs.

Saarken snarled and pushed his power forward. The snakeskin armor on his body glowed faintly. The bell artifact around him rang once, sending out a dull wave. The vines that touched him weakened and snapped.

He forced his way through, tearing free again and again. Roots wrapped around his legs, only to be torn apart. Vines tried to drag him down, but he smashed them aside with brute strength.

He broke through the last layer and rushed toward Aksai.

However, shapes appeared in front of him before he could enact his up and personal revenge on the Spirit farmer.

Golden figures rose from the ground and the air. One after another, Aurous Realm Sentient Fiends stepped forward. Their bodies were wrapped in a bright golden aura.

Their eyes were calm and sharp, like trained warriors. They moved together.

One Fiend struck with a golden fist. Another followed with a spinning kick wrapped in wind. A third sent a burst of fire from a palm strike.

“Bastard. Why don’t you fight me yourself if you have guts?”

Saarken roared and met them head-on.

“Hmm? I don’t have the guts to fight you head-on? Are you happy by my acceptance? Now die,” Aksai replied as he sat and watched his enemy struggle at the death’s door.

Aksai was really glad that he had taken his time to deal with this enemy. In some ways, this fake-turned-real Lord was even more dangerous for him than the well-established Lords from the Big Five Sects.

Saarken was furious when he heard Aksai’s shameless response. But he did not have the luxury to vent his anger on him. His fist crashed into one Fiend’s chest, cracking its body and sending it flying back. He followed up with a sharp elbow and shattered its shoulder. The Fiend staggered, its golden aura flickering.

Saarken raised his hand to finish it. Before he could strike, the ground shifted.

More roots surged up. Vines moved in perfect timing with the Fiends. The injured Fiend was pulled away by thick roots, dragged back toward the Demon Tree.

A golden vine wrapped around its broken body. Warm light flowed into it, and the cracks began to close. At the same time, more Sentient Fiends appeared.

They dropped in from above and rose from behind the vines. Their attacks came in waves. One struck, another blocked, a third forced Saarken to step back.

They moved in perfect sync with the Demon Tree.

Roots blocked Saarken’s feet when he tried to dodge. Vines pulled at his arms when he tried to strike. The Fiends filled every opening, never letting him get close to Aksai.

Saarken’s breathing grew heavy.

He looked around at the golden warriors, the moving vines, and the towering Demon Tree behind them.

Saarken staggered back, his chest rising and falling fast. His breath came out rough and uneven. His arms felt as heavy as some mortal from Aksai’s previous world trying to carry all the grocery bags from the car’s trunk all at once just to make sure they did not have to make a second run.

The vines pulled back for a moment. The Sentient Fiends did not press forward. They only watched him in silence. Saarken knew it.

He was almost spent.

“This… this is not over. I refuse to go down like this.”

With shaking hands, Saarken reached into his storage ring and took out a talisman. The talisman was old and dark, covered in twisted lines that hurt the eyes to look at. A dangerous aura leaked out of it, making the air around it shake. Clearly, this too was taken from the ghost mentor he had devoured.

“This is it,” Saarken muttered under his breath. This was his last trump card.

He had long understood that normal attacks could not hurt Aksai inside this place. If he wanted to survive, he had to gamble everything.

This talisman was deadly. Not just to enemies, but also to the user. If used at the wrong time, it could tear his body and soul apart.

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