A Farmer's Journey To Immortality

Chapter 615: The Message P1

The sight made something cold twist inside Reymon’s chest.

He slowly rose from his seat and walked toward the kneeling man.

When he stopped beside Jin, Reymon looked down at him in silence for a moment, his sharp eyes studying every detail—the trembling hands, the blood-soaked clothes, the dirt-streaked face, the broken spirit.

Then, in a low and steady voice, he asked, “How many?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. His lips trembled, and his breathing grew heavier. Then, suddenly, a choked sob escaped him. His voice came out weak and broken.

“My lord… we… we failed,” Jin said, his words trembling. Tears rolled down his cheeks and stained the dusty floor beneath him. “All of us failed.”

Reymon’s expression hardened, but he didn’t interrupt. He just stood still, the muscles in his jaw tightening slightly.

Jin’s voice grew more frantic as he continued, still kneeling, still unable to raise his head. “He killed almost everyone… the Bronze Artists, the Argent Artists… even some of the Aurous ones were beaten nearly to death. No one could stand against him.”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he forced out the next words. “And those who survived… he has taken as hostages.”

Reymon’s face darkened as he heard Jin’s words.

“How?” Reymon finally asked, his voice low but sharp. “How did it happen? Tell me everything.”

Jin’s body was still trembling, and he looked too afraid to even raise his head. After a few seconds, he slowly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small disk etched with glowing runes.

“My lord…” Jin’s voice cracked as he spoke. “That man… he said you’d know what to do with this once I gave it to you.”

He held the array disk with both hands and offered it to Reymon, his fingers shaking.

Reymon took the disk and examined it carefully. The faint light from the runes flickered across his stern face. It was a visual recorder—a Spirit Array device used to store the visual details of the surroundings. The surface was covered with complex Spirit Essence Equations that could only be activated through one’s Spirit Sense.

Reymon turned the disk in his hand, feeling the faint spiritual energy flowing within it. His brows drew together as a cold realization hit him.

’A visual recording array… and he sent it through Jin? That man… Aksai… he knows.’

Reymon’s expression turned darker as his thoughts raced. ’How did that man know that I’m walking the dual paths? No one outside the inner circle of the Grand Martial Hall should know about it. Did one of these fools leak the information?’

His eyes shifted sharply toward Jin. The anger and suspicion in them were unmistakable. Jin felt it instantly and pressed his forehead harder against the ground, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Reymon’s jaw clenched. He took a slow breath, forcing himself to think clearly.

’No. It can’t be any of them,’ he thought. ’Even among the elders, only a handful of Aurous grand elders know about my Spirit cultivation. Jin doesn’t have that level of clearance. And if he had been the one to leak it, he wouldn’t have come back alive in Grand Martial Hall, much less dared to face me.’

He ran his thumb over the cold metal of the array disk, feeling the faint pulse of Spirit energy within it.

’That means Aksai got the information another way. Either he forced it out… or he has some kind of ability to extract memories directly.’

Reymon took a deep breath, his face grim and unreadable. The flickering candlelight made his shadow stretch long across the wall as he stood in silence, staring at the disk.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s see what you wanted me to see.”

As soon as Reymon closed his eyes and sent his Spirit Sense into the array disk, the world around him faded away. His study vanished, and a new scene formed before his senses — cold, clear, and painfully vivid.

He found himself standing in the middle of what looked like a battlefield. The air was thick and heavy, and even though it was only a recording, he could almost smell the blood. The Devil’s Den was gone. What remained was only devastation.

Under a bright moon, the scene almost looked beautiful at first glance. But the longer Reymon looked, the more his heart sank. Chopped body parts lay scattered across the ground. Torn flesh and puddles of dark, drying blood covered the stones. Weapons were half-buried in the dirt, their blades still glowing faintly from Qi residue.

Reymon’s breath caught for a moment, a cold shiver crawling up his spine. His instincts screamed at him that this wasn’t just a massacre — it was a message. He quickly pushed the feeling away, forcing his face back into its usual calm expression. His hands clenched behind his back as he looked around with cold, narrowed eyes.

He then willed his ethereal self to move forward through the scene. His virtual form drifted across the ruined battlefield until he reached the centre, where he saw Aksai standing among a group of captives bound by vines and glowing talismans.

Aksai looked calm — too calm for someone surrounded by death. His expression was unreadable, his body covered in faint cuts and burns that looked more like marks of effort than wounds. As Reymon’s ethereal form came closer, Aksai suddenly turned his head.

Even though it was a recording, Aksai’s gaze met his — as if he had known exactly when Reymon would arrive. A slow smile appeared on his face.

“Welcome,” Aksai said, his tone steady and calm. “The grand master of the Grand Martial Hall.”

He raised both hands slightly, the moonlight glinting off his blood-stained fingers. “As you can see,” he continued, “all of this is your doing. It is because of you that your underlings died. I merely helped you.”

Reymon’s fists tightened at his sides. His jaw muscles twitched. He knew this wasn’t a live conversation, yet Aksai’s words still burned like fire.

Source: .com, updated by novlove.com