Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8612: Left and right (1)

Capítulo 8612: Left and right (1)

With a fierce “Ah~!” Yama Ling bellowed while swinging his arm. The heads of those ten unmoving figures dropped straight from their necks. They were completely lifeless now, yet moments later, they rose and shuffled away. This wasn’t resurrection, but a transformation into undead minions.

Having finished this deed, Yama Ling gasped for breath like he’d fought a brutal war. And indeed he had—one raging inside his mind. He understood that striking like this would earn eternal hatred from Lin Dong and his allies. Future teamwork with them would become impossible. Yet he had no choice; it was a grim decision between losing 1000, 2000, or 3000 lives. Whichever path he took, defeat was certain—not just the deaths of those thousand souls, but the trust of everyone too.

But with his resolve hardened, Yama Ling committed fully to the act. He struck without hesitation. As groups of ten fell one by one, the final batch perished swiftly. Naturally, Zhao Hai soon revived them as undead, who then stood and marched out.

Finally, Yama Ling slew the last one with a blank stare. Only then did he pivot silently toward Zhao Hai. Zhao Hai met his gaze with a grin. “Well done, you pulled it off. Hehe, I love it. I get it—you despise me and itch to end me. Given the chance, you’d strike without mercy. But my words remain unchanged. Dare to try, and weigh the fallout of defeat. Go ahead, reach out to them once more, or even take your own life. That’ll alert your upper realm’s old ancestor to the chaos in the Dark Ghost Sect. He might lash out at us, though success in finding or slaying me is no sure thing. Fail, and I promise the Dark Ghost Sect vanishes from the Blood Sea Realm—not merely the sect, but its entire legacy wiped out. Test it if you dare; I won’t mind, hahahaha.” Laughing wildly, Zhao Hai vanished from the chamber.

Once Zhao Hai was gone, Lin Dong and the others exchanged grim glances. They saluted Yama Ling with clasped fists before storming off. No words passed between them, a clear sign of their fury. Yet Yama Ling barely noticed, lost in his own turmoil—plotting how to confront Zhao Hai and navigate their fraught alliance.

Meanwhile, Lin Dong stormed back to his island. He headed directly to his study. Though over 300 of his followers had died that day, rage didn’t consume him. Zhao Hai’s brutality infuriated him, as did Yama Ling’s provocation. Still, he recognized Yama Ling’s necessity; without it, all hope was lost.

Zhao Hai’s savagery terrified him above all. Lin Dong feared the man deeply, unsure of his ultimate scheme, but certain Zhao Hai wouldn’t spare them. Now he stood at a fateful fork, forced to choose his path.

It boiled down to left or right. Left meant total submission, securing survival and the Dark Ghost Sect’s legacy. But the sect would cease to be itself. Right meant defiance, like Yama Ling’s stand. Lin Dong knew Yama Ling wouldn’t yield easily; he’d keep fighting Zhao Hai. Victory? Unlikely. The cost: more Dark Ghost Sect blood spilled, its inheritance shattered.

Left or right—a torturous dilemma. To many, it seemed a straightforward life-or-death pick: choose life to live, death to perish. Simple enough. Yet reality twisted it far more complex. Beyond survival loomed deeper stakes, ones that froze the hand from deciding.

Outwardly, existence appeared straightforward. Who wouldn't crave survival, particularly cultivators? Hence, it looked as though they'd opted for life. Yet, embracing life demanded enduring eternal disgrace, fostering inner demons. Ultimately, even without Qi deviation, heavenly Tribulation would claim them. Thus, choosing life proved far from simple. As social beings, humans couldn't wholly dismiss others' views, no matter their superiority. Even experts must heed the sentiments of those nearby.

Death looked like a straightforward pick, yet selecting it didn't ensure instant demise. It heralded a complete dead end. This route demanded even greater hardship, surpassing mere dying. Taking it could drag the entire sect into ruin. Losing inheritance and shattering orthodoxy inflicted the gravest blows. Cultivators treasured orthodoxy immensely, as it was their sole enduring legacy. Whether ascending or perishing ahead, passing orthodoxy onward brought them solace.

Still, opting for death risked severing orthodoxy entirely. Such a decision posed immense torment. It transcended basic death. If worldly affairs were truly that uncomplicated, all would be well. The proverb 'After my death, let the deluge come' rolled off the tongue easily, yet scant few possessed the guts to act on it.

Lin Dong now lingered at this fateful crossroads, compelled to confront this grueling choice, leaving him deeply troubled. He craved solitude, shunning all company to brood alone in his chamber over his destiny. Hope for Yama’s order dwindled; he grasped that today's turmoil would sharpen Zhao Hai's scrutiny, rendering Yama’s order's moves far tougher henceforth. Only suicide, per Zhao Hai's words, might alert the upper realm ancestor to lower realm happenings—though whether he'd slay Zhao Hai remained dubious, for Lin Dong knew upper realm dwellers couldn't perpetually monitor below.

“What’re you mulling over?” A voice erupted abruptly in the room, startling Lin Dong. He sprang up, bellowing, “Who’s there?” Instant regret flooded him upon speaking, for he knew the owner. That voice, etched in memory, had haunted his nightmares repeatedly!

From the shadows, Zhao Hai stepped forth, gazing at Lin Dong. Lin Dong bowed swiftly to Zhao Hai, saying, “Master, I didn’t know you were here. Please forgive me, Master!” Regardless of his inner turmoil, he dared not reveal it before Zhao Hai, terrified of a wrathful execution.

Zhao Hai eyed Lin Dong with a smile, “Have a seat. I came today to discuss the Dark Ghost Sect’s future path with you.” With that, he claimed Lin Dong’s former chair—the study’s prime seat—without hesitation. A casual wave beckoned Lin Dong to the facing seat across the table. Wordlessly, Lin Dong obeyed and sat.

Though Zhao Hai smiled at Lin Dong, a chill gripped Lin Dong’s heart, for dread of Zhao Hai now consumed him. He'd never witnessed Zhao Hai’s rage; the man always grinned, at times serene. Yet those smiles held no true mirth, often gracing moments of slaughter, amplifying Lin Dong’s fear.

Noticing Lin Dong’s unease, Zhao Hai smiled and said, “No need to be so tense. I kill, but never without cause. Purpose drives my kills; aimless slaughter would make me deranged. Why else share the Dark Ghost Sect’s future direction with you?”

Though Lin Dong viewed Zhao Hai as a lunatic, he acknowledged the man’s shrewd madness. If Zhao Hai pierced his thoughts, disaster loomed, so he replied at once, “Yes, that’s what confounds me. I’m merely a Dark Ghost Sect elder, not the sect leader. Discussing this with me seems pointless, Master. What do you intend? Please tell me.”

Zhao Hai gazed at Lin Dong with a smile. "It’s actually very simple. I think that the dark ghost sect might need to change its sect leader, so I came to you to tell you this. What do you think?" Still smiling, Zhao Hai watched Lin Dong’s reaction intently. He truly aimed to replace the dark ghost sect’s sect leader, and that was exactly why he spoke those words.

A jolt hit Lin Dong’s heart as Zhao Hai’s words sank in. He fully understood the underlying message. Zhao Hai was after Yama Ling’s life, since the dark ghost sect’s sect leader wouldn’t shift while Yama Ling lived. This also showed Zhao Hai had no desire to offer Yama Ling further opportunities.

Zhao Hai’s choice stirred complicated emotions in Lin Dong. He’d clashed with Yama Ling for years, constantly wishing to eliminate him. Yet now, with Yama Ling poised to fall from power or perish, joy escaped him completely—because Zhao Hai’s declaration, not his own strength, had brought this about.

Even if Zhao Hai’s statement implied Lin Dong could seize control of the dark ghost sect, happiness still eluded him. He knew perfectly that becoming its sect leader would leave him as nothing more than Zhao Hai’s puppet.