NOVEL SIMPLE A Dead Cultivator
The mortal woman guides Brax to a house that is much bigger than any other house in this town.
This house is in much better condition compared to any other house in this town, and it is to be expected as it belongs to the chief of this village.
More power, more money, it's the same old law all over again. No matter where it is, when it is, or who it is. Everyone falls under this law.
Before he could even step foot in the courtyard of the house, an old man came out running with a few people right behind him.
He approaches Brax and immediately gets down on his knees. The old man didn't give his age and old bones a single regard as he greeted Brax.
"Oh great lord, thank you for presenting yourself in front of our humble adobe," The old man says while keeping his head down, not wanting to make eye contact with Brax.
It is not just the old man, even his family members are on their knees with their heads down as they greet Brax.
"We ask for your forgiveness for not receiving you at the gate. Please show mercy," The old man apologizes with sincerity.
As soon as he got the news of Brax's arrival, he sprinted into action to prepare his welcome.
This is a small town and words travel fast. He was just glad that some of his village members rushed to him as soon as they saw Brax at the gate of the village.
The old man was willing to run to the village gate to receive Brax, but Brax got here before he could even step out of his house.
"Stop this. I am here to handle the bandit problem. Fill me in," Brax makes them stop as this display of submission is getting a little tiring.
"As you wish, oh great lord. Please accept this lowly mortal's invitation to his humble adobe." The old man got back to his feet and his family members followed.
Brax follows the old man into his house, and the scent of burning incense immediately greets him. Brax studies the chief's house and then focuses on the other three family members.
The middle-aged man should be his son, and the skinny middle-aged woman should be his daughter-in-law, and then there is the thirteen-year-old boy who is his grandson.
Being an exceptional cultivator with high-level sensitivity to Qi energy, Brax can immediately pick up signs of Qi inside one's body even if they don't cultivate it.
Even mortals of this world have some Qi in them as they breathe the same air as cultivators, so some Qi lay dormant in them, so if a mortal has Qi stored in their body, it means that they can practice cultivation.
The more Qi a mortal has in their body, the better their talent is.
The old chief, his son, and his daughter-in-law have no talent in cultivation and even if they did, it is too late for them to start, but as for the boy, he seems a little decent.
'This boy's talent should be a little better than mine,' Brax thinks as he measures the Qi energy stored inside the boy's body. The amount may be minuscule, but this is just a 13-year-old child. His result will be much better compared to the previous Brax when he grows older and begins cultivation.
The old chief takes Brax to the biggest, well-decorated guest room in his house to settle down for a bit while the old chief prepares something for Brax to eat and drink.
Now left alone on his own inside the room, Brax notices that numerous people have gathered outside the chief's house. All of them want to get a glimpse of the immortal cultivator.
He ignores the commotion outside and focuses on things that are on his To-do list.
'I should be able to take care of the bandit situation by tomorrow. After that, I should visit the Greenwound City,' He thinks as there is another thing he wants to do before heading back to the sect.
Soon after, the chief returns with the whole family and they bring multiple dishes to serve Brax.
The son and the grandson soon leave while the chief and the daughter-in-law stay behind to continue serving Brax.
The chief doesn't dare to speak as Brax tastes the food presented to him. It tastes good enough.
"You may speak," Brax orders.
"I would like to thank you once again for coming to our humble town to deal with the bandit issue. They have been wreaking havoc for a while now.
They have pillaged our village for weeks now. They took our gold, grains, and women with them.
We had no other choice but to ask for your esteem help," The old chief says with his head lowered.
"What happened to the cultivator stationed here?" Brax asks.
Since Whiteworro falls under the eleven-mountain sect's jurisdiction, they post one cultivator in these small mortal villages as a safety protocol.
Though these cultivators are washed up, old, and not that strong, they are still cultivators in mortal villages.
"The bandits killed Lord Farco..." the chief says and goes quiet to pay him some respect.
"What was his cultivation level?" Brax asks.
"Lord Farco said that he was a fourth-level Qi condensation realm cultivator. He was indeed very powerful but the bandits easily killed him... Their leader didn't even bother getting involved," The chief says as his voice shakes in fear.
"A fourth-level? The sect were generous," Brax says.
Usually, the cultivators assigned to these small mortal villages are just first or second level. A fourth-level cultivator can be a protector of a mortal city.
"Lord Farco was once a resident of this village who embarked on the immortal path. After becoming a great cultivator, he decided to return to our village and watch over us," the chief says, his tone holding the utmost respect for this dead Lord Farco.
'Great cultivator? Well, to a mortal, anyone who can cultivate is a great existence,' Brax thinks and decides not to pour water over the old man's beliefs.
"Well, he is now a dead man, so no need to bother. Tell me about the bandits," Brax finally decides to get to the main point.