Cultivators rarely cared for the lives and the ongoings of mortals, as they perceived themselves to be in a realm far beyond their comprehension, in a similar state to a god.
They would live far too many centuries and mayhaps see a few kingdoms fall and rise, again and again. The mundane world was unfit for their attention or care. And Ludan, the cultivator about to face Mac, was no different.
He could not care for his men that had fallen. He barely wasted a glance at his own tortured son. Even the news that his youngest, Olito, had been made hostage did not have any lingering effect on his mood. The detachment from the mortal realm was a predicament that ravaged most of the cultivators that were far above the rest.
But yet, the man in front of him managed to sparkle a flint of his interest. Mac Key Kast, tales called his name. Even someone so detached from the problems of his own kingdom heard of his deeds.
For Ludan, Mac was as far from him as someone could be, like the Eternal Sea itself separated them. A man incapable of cultivation would forever be trapped in the realm of mortals, to one day die with no importance for the cultivation world.
But Ludan felt the changes. He felt his might reality shake before Mac's actions. The man with a broken Small Orbis was even one of the reasons why Ludan came to this exiled tribe by the sea.
And in a far chance, their paths crossed on a meaningless night, in an uncared-for land. Ludan never imagined that he would be the one to take the life of the legendary weakling.
"What a strange world this is," Ludan mumbled while looking at the tiny moon. He closed his eyes to await Mac's last attack. He only hoped that he could actually feel it, so he would know it was time to strike Mac down.
But so the world strange was, and Ludan did not know an inch of it, and he would never get to know. And not because he did not care for it, but because Mac did.
He may have lived a few centuries less than Ludan, but Mac knew far too many things about the mortal and the cultivator realm, at least way more than Ludan.
But it did not matter how many different tricks Mac had up his sleeve when facing someone with many times your strength, even someone as proud as Mac would feel pressured.
So one can imagine how Hai was feeling. She was completely overwhelmed with fear and despair to the point that she could not look at Ludan or Mac. The poor girl had crumbled herself into a fetal position as she could not help Mac or anyone else.
Luterio was the total opposite, though. Even if his father's words pierced his heart, he could not miss the scene of the bane of the Kingdom of Erapta pulverized before his very eyes.
Meanwhile, Mac kept his mind cold and focused as he prepared to dash. He only had one chance, and he would do it fast. He knew very well that he could not fool around against someone that could kill him with a punch.
And so Mac sprinted at his full speed while using his footwork, and by perfect management of momentum in time, he came to a complete stop while he swung his right arm, taking the head of the war hammer warped in a spider web with it.
The heavy piece of weapon made a curve in its trajectory and would land right in Ludan's face, who did not bother dodging, even if he was capable.
This attack was only successful because a diverse amount of different factors just happened to coexist in a situation. If not for Mac's precise control of his movements and gadgets and Ludan's carelessness, the result would be much sadder.
But successful the move was, and what a tremendous amount of power it carried. If someone like Luterio got struck by it in the face, neither his mother nor his father would be able to identify the body. Even Ludan, who had skin harder than steel, would not come out with anything broken.
But he would live and recover fast, and then Mac would be as good as dead as he would have wasted his only chance. But there is still a different factor not mentioned that produced a better outcome for Mac.
The head of the war hammer emitted a faint but concise glow, and that was because Mac had activated the rune embedded in it, courtesy of one of his friends. And the effects of those runes made a gigantic difference.
The attack finally landed on the unsuspectingly Ludan, and the destruction it made! Not even another cultivator on a similar level could achieve such feet. When the weapon landed, the frontal part of his skull crumbled in itself, like a meteorite landing on a mountain. If Ludan hadn't instinctively flinched in reaction to the glow of the runes reaching his face, he would probably have instantly died then and there.
The surprise and shock he felt were far grander than anyone else experienced this night. The sensation was as if, in an instant, he went from the most perfect of paradises in the heavens direct to the most nightmarish pit of hell.
Ludan could barely comprehend the pain, as there was a profound impairment in his own brain. But he yet still lived, somehow, barely managing to stand. Cultivators were not called inhumane for no reason.
Maybe the damage was severe enough to take his life eventually, but now, more than ever, he would go with his full power for Mac's head.
There was no hatred in his mind, as he probably didn't even have the capacities to process it anymore, but just like a mindless machine, he would destroy everything in his path.
But his misfortune had not yet passed, as his chance would never come. Mac was finished with his first perfect attack, but he had way more in store.
The moment Ludan got smacked, Mac dashed again with still impressive speed towards his foe. On the way, he grabbed the detached head of the war hammer still in the air and thrust it into Ludan's stomach.
Mac's hand fornicated when he touched the weapon, but that was nothing compared to what Ludan felt when he was met with another impact in an unprotected area.
He would have vomited blood if his compressed skull wasn't blocking the way. But in turn, an unprecedented event happened just there. A cultivator had felled before someone who could not even feel the spiritual energy in the air.
Luterio watched in terror as he was the only one present to see such a feat since Hai was still covering herself in fright. And in a similar manner to his father, his mind was broken before Mac's actions.
But Ludan still lived, somehow, but it was now set in stone that he would die soon, and what a painful and slow death this once potent and legendary man would have.
Mac watched the cultivator spasmed in pain and agony, and suddenly he was filled with bliss. Mac may be a narcissistic prick who believed himself capable of everything, but it was not every day that he would successfully bring someone much more powerful than him with such ease. "It usually happens to me at least once a week!" He conceited thought to himself.
Mac could quickly turn calm and mindful in dire situations, but he would, even more quickly, change back to his careless and chaotic self when victory was asserted. And in such a manner, Mac let the euphoria go to his head.
"Oh, poor soul! I can only imagine how hard you must be suffering." Mac mockingly said with a smile that hurt. "Let me help you with that!" And so he pieced Ludan's gut and the earth beneath with his spear.
Under normal circumstances, Mac's spear would break before a cultivator hardened flesh, but for some reason, at that moment, Ludan's body was no sturdier than Luterio's.
While Luterio lost control of his mind and his eyes went blank, Hai finally managed to look up. Once again, this night, she saw Mac overdosing himself in his sadistic tendencies, but that was the first time she felt relief seeing it.
"He did it... He did it again!" With those mumbles, Hai fell face first on the dirt. The stress alongside the roller coaster of opposite emotions had overwhelmed her senses.
Mac did not have a conscient audience to be astonished by his atrocities anymore, but he was not satisfied yet. He still wanted to hurt and humiliate this cultivator that he didn't even know the name of more and more.
Mac stepped forward and sat on top of Ludan, putting his back on the pierced spear. Having a total view of his victim's face, the image of Ludan's proud and confident expression flashed in his mind, and his smile grew wider.
"How the mighty have fallen." Mac started as he bashed Ludan's head with the head of the war hammer. "To look down on life and the world, unable to really care for your kin and foes!" Mac smashed the head again. "For an existence of a god, a more suitable end there aren't!"
And with every hit, a flick of sunlight would bathe this compacted massacre in the dawn. The moon had finally reached its lowest point, and a new day had finally arrived. And at the end, Mac welcomed a fresh morning with complete joy.
To beat the greatest and to gloat about their deaths. That was Mac's favorite pass time. But as he indulged himself in tasteless deeds, his luck faltered for a moment.
Seemingly from the dead, Ludan somehow reacted. It was as if the last pieces of being resting inside him bust forth with a single objective: To take his ender with him.
His right arm, which laid dormant on the dirt, suddenly gained an explosive force and flew towards Mac's head. He would be dead on impact.
To produce such strength even beyond death and consciousness, cultivators who abandoned their humanity a long time ago were worst than cornered animals.
But Mac was in a different league of his own. He was bringing down his weapon to smash Ludan's head for the last time when he noticed the desperate onslaught. His instincts refined by his bottomless experience geared up and he altered the trajectory of his swing and managed to hit Ludan's arm before Mac got struck.
Mac's quick-shifting saved his life, but it did not shield him from harm. The strength behind the last blow of a dying cultivator was somehow significantly reduced, even though Mac's was relatively weaker.
Mac was sent flying from Ludan. He had just barely kicked the ground to move himself to lessen the damage, so he was sent farther. Mac also used his left arm to protect his head, but the position was awkward, and the arm broke on impact.
Mac crashed into a burning tent, and he would probably have been burned alive if he had lost consciousness there. Luckily, his determination and stubbornness to not die were surpassed by cultivators alone.
Mac made himself like a cannonball and brute-forced his way through the tent. He raised his right arm to protect his head as he rolled to soften the fall. And when he completed a roll, he jumped using the momentum affectionately given to him by Ludan to throw himself out of the fire.
Mac, fortunately, avoided any of the harmed tribals and landed in a safe spot. He tried to get up on his feet but found it extremely difficult. Just then reality reached him, and he realized his left ear was gushing blood, and there was a small dent on his head.
"Oh, fuck!" Mac tried to say while he hurled blood. His senses were coming to him alongside unbearable pain. "The bastard cracked my skull!" Mac left a long and arduous scream of torment.
"But I guess I deserved that!" He horsed while breathing barely. A sense of regret was hitting harder than a tsunami. "But still...hahaha" Mac then suddenly started to laugh maniacally.
He tried to stand again and failed miserably. His cerebellum was badly damaged, and his bony labyrinth was obviously unsolvable now. But he kept on trying, and somehow, with his legs like jelly, he got on his feet.
With even more effort, Mac turned to look at Ludan. The cultivator was dead. The fissure on his head was bigger than Mac's fist. That last attack of his was the last sign of life from that body.
The cultivator was dead, and Mac was barely alive. But he would live, he was certain of it. He had gone through worst after all.
But nevertheless, on this somber morning in Sun Grow Tribe, Mac came out as the last one standing.