A Farmer's Journey To Immortality - Chapter 756: Iron Mountain Sect’s Last Stand

Chapter 756: Iron Mountain Sect’s Last Stand

Heilam believed that the poison miasma—or rather, whatever was left of it—would protect him.

He wanted to believe that one of the Big Five sects wouldn’t send their disciples into such dangerous terrain and risk their lives, as that would ruin their reputation by making them seem too heartless.

But the Purple River Sect had prepared for this. The sect’s foundation was built on poison techniques anyway. On top of that, the sect was desperate. Losing a few disciples, and even elders for that matter, was no longer a big deal to them.

Their elders came equipped with poison-resistant artifacts, pills, and formation flags. They moved in groups, sealing off escape routes one by one. From the north, south, east, and west, their presence closed in.

The marshland grew quiet.

Heilam stood among twisted trees and dark fog, his breathing heavy. The poison stung his skin and burned his lungs, but it no longer felt like a shield.

He could sense it at this point. He was slowly getting surrounded.

The twisted trees of the Purple Poison Marshland swayed under a weak, toxic wind. The poison fog was thin now, nothing like the thick veil it used to be. It barely hid anything anymore.

A disciple rushed through the marsh, his clothes torn and stained with purple mud. He dropped to one knee in front of Heilam, his face pale.

“Sect Master,” the disciple said, his voice shaking. “The Purple River Sect has started moving in closer. Their elders are advancing from all sides. At this rate… they will find us within a few hours.”

Heilam’s heart sank.

He waved the disciple away. The man bowed quickly and retreated, leaving Heilam standing among the dead trees. For a moment, Heilam clenched his fists, his breath coming out rough and uneven.

A few hours.

That was all the time they had left.

He turned sharply toward Grisham, one of the three grand elders of the Iron Mountain Sect. Grisham stood nearby, leaning on his staff, his expression calm but tired.

“Grisham,” Heilam said, his voice low but urgent. “Where is Lord Aksai?”

The name hung in the air.

“It has been ten years,” Heilam continued, his tone growing strained.

“Ten years since he vanished without leaving any trace. I… I submitted to him believing that he could lead the Iron Mountain Sect to greater heights.

Even though we started on the wrong foot, I believe that I showed my loyalty at the time of the hidden cave’s expedition. A lot of my sect members died in that expedition but I didn’t say anything. I only retreated along with the remaining survivors after receiving his orders from you to go back and wait.

“But where the hell is he now? The Purple River sect has gone mad. It is targeting my sect when I barely received some relatively mediocre rewards from that expedition. Shouldn’t Lord Aksai save us now that we have submitted to him completely?

I had spent a considerable amount of my lifespan and the sect’s resources on that expedition. I even had to lose many of my sect elders. And after doing all that, not only did I not get sufficient rewards but also somehow ended up offending one of the Big Five Sects? Aaaargh…. Where the hell is that thing called justice in this world?

Damn it. Let’s just forget it. Grisham! My dear, Grisham. You acted as his contact in the past. You must know something, right? A way to reach him. A method. Anything.”

Grisham looked at Heilam for a long moment. Then he slowly shook his head.

“Sect Master,” he said quietly, “you think too highly of me.”

Heilam frowned. “What? What do you mean?”

Grisham let out a dry laugh.

“I was lucky,” he said. “Lucky to be used as a pawn by Lord Aksai. That is all I was. Someone like me is not qualified to contact him whenever I wish.”

Heilam’s face darkened. “You’re saying you truly know nothing?”

Grisham nodded.

“No one does,” he said. “Not even the Emerald Cove Guild. I asked through the channels I had. There has been no news of Lord Aksai from them either.”

That last bit of hope cracked.

Heilam turned away, staring at the thinning fog. His shoulders slumped slightly.

“Then we are truly trapped,” he muttered.

Grisham’s voice came again, steady and calm.

“There is one thing,” he said.

Heilam turned back at once. “What is it?”

Grisham met his gaze.

“If Lord Aksai returns,” he said, “it will likely be to the Purple Poison Marshland. If that happens… he may contact me.”

He paused before adding,

“But that is an if.”

“Fucccccccck!” Heilam cursed to high heavens after hearing Grisham’s response.

Heilam paced back and forth among the twisted trees, his steps uneven. His hands went to his head, fingers digging into his hair. He pulled hard, as if the pain might clear his thoughts. Strands of hair came loose, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Damn it… damn it all,” he muttered, his breathing fast and rough.

Every direction felt the same. Poison fog. Dead trees. No way out.

Grisham stood a short distance away, watching him in silence. He was about to speak when his body stiffened slightly. His eyes widened just a bit.

He felt it.

A faint pull on his soul. Soft. Familiar. As if a veil had been lifted and his senses had sharpened just enough to hear a distant voice again. It was not words, but intent. A presence.

Grisham’s heart skipped. He immediately understood. Lord Aksai had come out.

A small smile formed on his lips before he could stop it. Relief washed over him like warm water. He almost turned toward Heilam at once, ready to speak the good news.

But then he saw Heilam’s state.

The sect master was still pacing, laughing under his breath one moment and grinding his teeth the next. His eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders shook with stress.

Grisham paused.

Hmmm. Not yet. Let’s wait a little. Otherwise, this loudmouth won’t be able to keep quiet.

Grisham thought and decided to himself.

He let the smile fade and coughed lightly, clearing his throat. Then he spoke in a calm voice.

“Sect Master,” he said, “everything will be alright.”

Heilam stopped and turned around sharply.

“Alright?” he snapped. “What part of this looks alright to you?”

Grisham clasped his hands behind his back. “We should trust in Lord Aksai’s plan.”

That did it.

Heilam’s eyes flared with anger. He stepped toward Grisham, pointing a trembling finger at him.

“His plan?” Heilam shouted. “What plan? Tell me. Where the hell is that plan? Does Lord Aksai plan to watch from afar while the Purple River Sect crushes us? Does he want the Iron Mountain Sect to be flattened into dust?”

Grisham sighed softly.

“Sect Master,” he said, “you need to stay calm. Fighting now will only lead to needless deaths. We should let the Purple River Sect approach.”

Heilam stared at him in disbelief.

“Do not engage them,” Grisham continued. “Order our disciples to retreat. Keep retreating. Gather everyone in one place.”

For a moment, Heilam was silent.

Then he laughed.

It was sharp and broken, filled with disbelief. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest hurt.

“You want us to retreat?” he said between laughs. “You want us to huddle together and wait?”

He looked at Grisham as if he were mad.

“That’s not a plan,” Heilam said hoarsely. “That’s suicide. You want us to commit suicide. What a great plan, grand elder. Hahaha!”

Grisham watched Heilam’s wild laughter fade. When the sound finally died down, he spoke again, his voice calm and steady.

“Sect Master,” he said, “if you truly believe there is no way out, then there is no harm in following my plan.”

Heilam frowned and looked at him.

“At the very least,” Grisham continued, “we can avoid pointless deaths. No sudden charges. No scattered fights. Our people will stay alive until the very end.”

He took a step closer and lowered his voice.

“And if we really are meant to die here,” he added, “then why not die together?”

The words hung in the air.

Heilam stared at Grisham as if he had lost his mind. His brows knit together, his lips trembling between anger and doubt. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then his breathing slowly calmed.

His eyes shifted toward the distant fog, where faint auras could already be felt pressing closer. No matter what he did, escape was impossible. Fight now, and they would be hunted down one by one. Run, and they would be cut apart from behind.

Captured or killed.

There was no real difference.

Heilam let out a long breath.

“Well…You’re not wrong,” he said quietly.

If this was the end, then at least he would face it as a sect master, not as a hunted dog.

He straightened his back and turned sharply.

“Fine! Gather everyone,” Heilam said firmly. “All disciples. All elders. Fall back toward my position. No one fights unless ordered.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com