The young woman's lack of astonishment at another person's throat being slit by her brother was quite remarkable. Despite her innocence and limited combat skills, she seemed to take it all in stride. Although she appeared innocent and not particularly skilled in fighting, all of his family steeped in the world of cultivation. She understood the harsh reality that cultivators often found themselves in: either kill or be killed.
As Zenith observed the demise of the man in the brown robe, a sense of relief washed over him. He was well aware that there was noone been guarding the Phantom Sect duo from the shadows, yet the situation was different for the Skyfall Sect pair. With one of them now deceased, he could only bide his time and await the unfolding of the plan's second phase.
The scene unfolded with a young man garbed in blue robes and a plump companion adorned in gray robes locked in a relentless battle. However, this confrontation was an entirely different beast compared to their prior encounters. Both were backed into a corner, and their fight took on an air of life-or-death desperation. Each of the plump man's strikes packed a tremendous explosive force, while the young man in blue executed his movements with a mesmerizing fluidity. As minutes turned into moments, both sides began to show signs of exhaustion. Although the plump man had the upper hand in terms of sheer strength, his advantage was meaningless if he couldn't make contact with the agile young man in blue. Swiftly dodging every assault, the young man in blue left a trail of fresh wounds with every strike of his dagger. The battle's outcome had been decided long before its end.
Standing next to the lifeless body of the plump man, the young man in blue took heavy breaths. His left arm bore the evidence of a blow he'd taken before driving his dagger into the plump man's chest. The battle had reached its conclusion.
When the young man in blue turned to beckon his sister, he was met with a sight that left him dumbfounded. His sister, previously an onlooker from a nearby, now had a knife pressed against her throat by the very young man who had been watching them on the tree. The young man's countenance remained devoid of emotion, as if he had been contemplating his meal choices after a leisurely stroll in the park.
"Release her," the tension in the young man's voice was palpable, but he hesitated, unsure of what the other young man might do to his sister.
"What if I don't? Are you prepared to watch me end her life?" Zenith's voice, though still carrying the high pitch of youth, seemed detached. Yet, what added a layer of chilling horror was the fact that despite the deaths he'd dealt and witnessed, the young man in blue was struggling to meet the gaze of the two corpses before him. An ordinary child would likely be pleading for mercy by now, but this child held a knife against his sister's throat with an air of detachment.
"You," Zenith's gaze scanned the young man in blue's form.
"Here are your two options. Option one: make a move against me, attempt to save your sister, and watch as her blood spills before your eyes."
An involuntary shiver ran down the young man's spine; one step forward, and the scene would unfold exactly as described.
"Option two: Swear an oath to me right now. Don't worry, once you swear, I'll reciprocate by swearing not to harm you, your sister, her dignity, or anything related to you both untill our ritual concludes."
The young man remained frozen, his posture unmoving.
"Don't worry, I only need a small amount of virgin blood. I have no interest in your lives or your sister's body from that particular perspective. Just make the oath, and I'll spare your sister's life."
The young man still didn't budge, but soon his lips parted, whispering a few words.
"First, you swear."
Zenith had anticipated this reaction. After all, who would entrust their life, especially their loved one's, to a stranger?
With his grip still firm on the knife, Zenith allowed a drop of his blood to trickle from his left index finger, raising it up in the air.
"Very well. UPON THE HEAVENS, I SWEAR THAT AS LONG AS THE MAN BEFORE ME HONORS HIS OBLIGATION OF SERVICE, I SHALL REFRAIN FROM BRINGING HARM TO HIM, HIS SISTER, HER HONOR, OR ANYTHING CONNECTED TO THEM UNTILL OUR RITUAL IS CONCLUDED."
The echoes of Zenith's voice reverberated, immediately followed by a deafening boom that seemed as if the heavens themselves had unleashed their wrath. However, contrary to expectations, neither Zenith nor the young girl in his grasp suffered harm.
"Now, your turn."
Zenith's tone was calm, composed.
Reluctantly, the young man in blue lifted his right hand, his voice clear and strong.
"UPON THE HEAVENS, I ACCEPT THE BOY BEFORE ME AS MY MASTER."
Finally, Zenith breathed a sigh of relief, his hands rubbing together. The dagger had vanished into his ring. Looking at the young man, he quirked a grin.
"What's your name?"
The young man promptly bowed and saluted.
"I am Hetu, my lord."
Zenith nodded, extending a piece of paper to Hetu.
"Off you go. Keep this matter hushed and return here without delay."
After issuing a few more commands, Zenith turned to the bewildered girl, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Tell me, are you indeed untouched?"