The exchange just now had let Yang Kai sense something off about his opponent.
This eighth-stage Ink Acolyte's strikes looked terrifying, but in truth, it was all show.
The fellow was wounded, and badly so. On the surface, a massive gash ran across his waist and abdomen. Though he'd channeled his energy to seal it, blood still oozed through. On top of that, one of his eyes had been blown clean out, and his remaining solitary eye fixed on Yang Kai with a venomous, serpentine stare — like a viper eyeing its prey.
It made sense when you thought about it. On a battlefield, needing to play dead just to survive meant he'd been beaten so badly he could barely fight back. The injuries still clinging to his body were proof enough.
Moreover, he was merely an eighth-stage Ink Acolyte — not a true eighth-stage Opening Heaven. His strength fell well short of a genuine powerhouse of that level. Even at his peak, he probably couldn't match any single Domain Lord of the Ink Clan.
If Yang Kai had been alone, he might not have risked the fight. With his spatial abilities, this gravely wounded Ink Acolyte shouldn't have been able to do much to him — even if he couldn't win, he could certainly escape.
But he wasn't alone right now.
Beside him was a seventh-stage woman he'd just pulled from the battlefield, still unconscious.
Yang Kai himself was seventh-stage. His Small Universe could harbor any cultivator below the Upper Opening Heaven stage, but against another seventh-stage Opening Heaven — there was no way to tuck her away inside.
Carrying her along meant the odds of shaking off this eighth-stage Ink Acolyte were slim. In this situation, there was only one option: fight.
Back in the day, Yang Kai and Bai Yi had joined forces, suffering untold hardships, to slay a gravely wounded Domain Lord of Windchase.
Now, hundreds of years later, facing a wounded eighth-stage Ink Acolyte alone, Yang Kai didn't think his chances were hopeless. His strength had grown enormously since those days.
"Are the younger generation all this arrogant these days?" the eighth-stage Ink Acolyte snorted coldly. Yang Kai's reply had clearly irritated him.
Yang Kai replied evenly, "I know you didn't choose this willingly, but since you've fallen to the Ink Path, you're an enemy. You don't get to play the elder."
As he spoke, Yang Kai struck out with a palm. A gentle wave of force swept up the unconscious seventh-stage woman nearby and enveloped her. The next instant, spatial laws surged. Her figure flickered, vanished from the spot, and reappeared tens of thousands of miles away, drifting slowly into the depths of the void.
A great battle was about to erupt, and there was no way Yang Kai could protect her safety in the midst of it. The only option was to send her far away as quickly as possible.
The eighth-stage Ink Acolyte understood Yang Kai's intentions perfectly, but made no move to stop him. For him, dealing with Yang Kai first would make catching the unconscious seventh-stage woman trivial — kill her or keep her, as he pleased.
Still, Yang Kai's attitude clearly displeased him. The Ink Acolyte glanced at the woman who'd been sent away, then withdrew his gaze and beckoned. From the distant battlefield, a clear, piercing sword hum rang out, reverberating through heaven and earth. A streak of light shot toward him at incredible speed, and he caught it in his hand.
Yang Kai's expression grew grim, and he tightened his grip on the Azure Dragon Spear.
He could see clearly — what had flown from the battlefield was a long sword, presumably this eighth-stage Ink Acolyte's artifact.
That meant this Ink Acolyte practiced the Way of the Sword. Yang Kai winced inwardly. Those who mastered the sword path invariably proved their Dao through killing. In other words, sword cultivators all possessed extensive combat experience, and every last one of them was a nightmare to deal with.
Feng Ying's daily conduct made that abundantly clear — she too walked the sword path.
And a long sword valued this highly by an eighth-stage powerhouse couldn't be ordinary either. Countless years of nurturing would have bonded any eighth-stage cultivator's life force intimately with their artifact.
The only thing Yang Kai could count as fortunate was that the sword artifact the Ink Acolyte had summoned was dim and faded, obviously lacking much of its spiritual essence. The blade was even riddled with chips and notches — evidence that during his earlier clash with the eighth-stage Opening Heaven cultivators of the Southern and Northern Armies, this Ink Acolyte had not only been beaten into playing dead to escape, but his artifact had sustained damage as well.
After reclaiming his long sword, the eighth-stage Ink Acolyte flicked it casually, producing a brief bloom of sword light. It was a simple flourish, but backed by his formidable cultivation, even that brief bloom radiated waves of lethal intent — a testament to his genuine proficiency in the way of the sword.
Holding the blade upright before him with one hand, the Ink Acolyte spoke: "Our current Sovereign is one who values talent. Let me ask you — would you consider pledging yourself to the Sovereign? If you agree, you may live today. To be frank, I'm not in the best condition and would rather not fight."
A trace of sorrow flickered through Yang Kai's eyes. "You were born human, yet you've pledged yourself to the Ink Clan. Old man — have you forgotten the comrades who fought beside you, who bled for you and took blade strikes in your place? Have you forgotten the countless soldiers who died at Dayan Pass?"
A nostalgic look crossed the Ink Acolyte's face, but he quickly shook his head. "Thirty thousand years... that's far too long. Who could remember it all clearly?"
Yang Kai lowered his gaze. "Then you must also have forgotten the simple wish and purpose with which you first entered the Battlefield of Ink."
The Ink Acolyte chuckled softly. "Young man, are you trying to convince this old man to find his way back? Save your breath. From the day of my Ink Corruption, I ceased to be human. So don't bother preaching at me."
Yang Kai gave a slight nod. "In that case, there's nothing left to say."