A Farmer's Journey To Immortality-Chapter 457: Peace Treaty P01

The righteous faction Lords had seen the cracks within the demonic faction.

Worse, they had heard enough to suspect there was something hidden—something mysterious and precious—deep within the Wild Devil Lands.

The Holy Land Torel.

He cursed inwardly.

The righteous faction didn't know the entire story of the Holy Land Torel, but now they knew there was something worth fighting for. He could already imagine their moves.

The Sun Ocean Lord was sly—he might be persuaded to form a quiet alliance, especially if it gave his sect an edge. Now that his daughter was getting married to his son, he would definitely not make things too difficult for the Blackblood Sect in the future.

The Green Glory Lord could be managed too—he had a thirst for exploration and the 4th Spirit cultivation realm. An invitation to Torel's entrance might hold him back from doing anything too reckless.

But the other three?

The Purple River Lord, the Western Limiya Lord, and the Eastern Limiya Lord were different beasts. They wouldn't play subtle games. They would march in with banners and disciples on trumped-up charges against the demonic faction and claim what they wanted through force.

Especially now that they sensed blood in the water.

And once he died—along with the Yaksha Lord—there would be no one strong enough to stop them. Not in time.

Even the neutral Haan Di Lord might make his move. The man acted detached, but he had once walked into the Holy Land Torel and had barely made it out. If given the chance, he'd strike to secure its entrance without a second thought.

The Big Five Sects behind the righteous faction Lords wouldn't sit still either. They didn't need their grand elders to invade. Their early and mid stage Foundation Building Experts alone were strong enough to pressure the smaller demonic sects.

A full-blown war might not even be needed. Just enough small battles to chip away at the Wild Devil Lands' demonic authority until nothing was left.

He had thought once—maybe the Torel could trap them too. Just like it had trapped him and the others. But that was just wishful thinking.

However, the Blackblood Lord was no fool. He knew that once the truth of their escape came out—once it became known that they had relied on Heretic Dao methods—then the trap would lose its mystery.

The righteous faction would prepare for it. Maybe they would approach the Haan Di Lord and obtain pointers from him.

Even if they barely managed to get third-tier items from that place, they would bring treasures, talismans, and secret techniques that were unparalleled in the current era of the Dadangar Subcontinent.

And when they came out alive, they wouldn't come empty-handed. They would come with precious artifacts and pills. They would come with reason to claim everything.

And when that happened, the Wild Devil Lands would not be subjected to just some cold-war takeover tactics. It would burn.

The Blackblood Sect wouldn't survive it.

The Blackblood Lord's jaw tightened. He couldn't let that happen. Not while he was still breathing.

The Blackblood Lord then looked at the Frostbound Lord beside him.

The Frostbound Lord would remain the only one in the demonic faction with the strength to speak. But what could he do? One Lord against many?

He'd be forced to retreat, to hide his sect away like a turtle in its shell. The Frostbound Sect's glory would wither. It would become a shadow of what it once was.

He hated the Yaksha Lord. That hadn't changed.

But he hated the idea of the demonic faction falling even more.

The Blackblood Lord didn't fear death. That part was already decided. But he feared what would come after.

He looked at Haitin, his son. Strong, smart, and determined but still young. Still growing. He trusted him to lead his sect.

But how much could one man do against the tides of war? Against the Big Five Sects? Against the greedy hands of the righteous faction Lords?

Haitin might be able to protect the sect for a while, but without another Core Formation Lord at his side, he would eventually break. Not from weakness—but from realm suppression.

The Blackblood Lord's jaw tightened as the weight of reality pressed down on him. The scale was already tilting.

If nothing was done, it would tip completely in favor of the righteous faction. And when that happened, the Wild Devil Lands would never recover.

The Blackblood Lord's eyes then returned to the pill.

It was a powerful item, no doubt. One that could help his son Haitin step past the natural limits of his Spirit Root. The kind of gift that could change a life.

But the pill wasn't the real gift. The real offer was the twenty years of peace.

That was what the Yaksha Lord was really giving—time. Time for their children to grow stronger.

Time for the Blackblood Sect to prepare for what was coming. Time to secure the demonic faction's territory before the vultures came swooping in.

And most of all—time to protect Holy Land Torel.

It was sufficient to say that despite all their differences, all three Core Formation Lords had considered that place to be the demonic faction's property.

The Blackblood Lord stood still for a long moment, his hand still hovering near his side.

The Spirit Nirvana Pill was glowing faintly in front of him, its red-blue surface gleaming under the soft sunlight, its golden patterns slowly shifting like flowing ink.

He stared at it in silence, as though it held not just power but a future that was slipping through his fingers.

He took a deep breath. A long, tired breath.

When he opened his eyes again, they were calm.

He slowly raised his right hand and placed it firmly over his chest, over his heart.

"I, the sect master of the Blackblood Sect," he said in a loud, clear voice.

"Swear upon my Dao Path that my sect will honor the peace treaty set by the Mroot Yaksha Sect's leader, the Yaksha Lord, for the next twenty years starting today… as long as he does not break the treaty or harm the Blackblood Sect's interests in any way."

The plaza fell silent.

His voice echoed slightly across the courtyard, bouncing off the stone walls and tiled roofs. The cultivators watching from the shadows or hiding behind veil spells straightened up.

"The treaty," he continued, "will come into full effect when the Yaksha Lord hands over the Spirit Nirvana Pill… and it will remain active even after both our deaths."