Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 151: Stepping Away from Involvement

Chapter 154: Stepping Away from Involvement

Anyone with desires can absolutely be bought.

The truly incorruptible, those without desires, are rare.

Johnny and Goro were not among them.

They were both easily swayed.

To win them over, Aizen merely had to offer them the Mysterious Ice Palm, even without its four major killing moves.

The technique, despite lacking its ultimate moves, was still formidable—a unique palm technique capable of unleashing extreme energy.

For Johnny and Goro, it was a huge temptation.

Moreover, Aizen promised that if they performed well and earned enough merit, he would teach them the four killing moves one by one.

A fifth-rank palm technique like this was enough to secure their loyalty.

For outer disciples of the Heavenly Demon Clan, it was virtually impossible to learn a fifth-rank technique. At best, they could accumulate substantial merit points and gain access to sixth-rank techniques.

Simone herself risked offending the Twilight Shadow Clan just to pursue a fifth-rank technique, even without a guarantee of success.

Aizen, on the other hand, casually revealed the essentials of a fifth-rank palm technique to them.

Although he didn’t disclose the killing moves, making it effectively a sixth-rank technique for now, it was still highly valuable.

In the Heavenly Demon Clan, learning a sixth-rank technique required at least 4,000 merit points.

Apart from the basic entry-level techniques, any advanced technique required merit points to exchange.

Merit points were perpetually insufficient, let alone having 4,000 extra points to exchange for a sixth-rank technique.

Johnny and Goro had never accumulated enough points to learn sixth-rank techniques.

After all, before they could start saving merit points, they first had to spend many points acquiring other techniques to strengthen themselves.

Aizen’s generous offer easily secured their loyalty.

Similarly, Aizen used a "carrot" approach with Deng Zhiwen, offering him enough incentives to keep him motivated and dedicated to his tasks.

And these were just the visible moves.

In secret, Aizen had also recruited a batch of underlings to work for him, unnoticed by others.

In Magus, what was the least valuable commodity?

Human lives were the cheapest of all.

On the day before his departure, Aizen convened a meeting with some senior stewards. He informed them that he was entering seclusion for cultivation, leaving all city affairs to Lilith, with Simone to assist and supervise.

This announcement came as no surprise to those perceptive enough, so no one raised objections.

In Great Plain City, Aizen effectively held absolute authority. What he said was law. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

While the elders of the Heavenly Demon Clan could issue directives from afar, as long as Aizen’s position as consul wasn’t revoked, everyone had to follow his lead. Even the elders’ commands required Aizen’s arrangement to be implemented.

Therefore, despite Lilith’s lack of seniority or apparent strength, no one dared to voice any opposition.

Even Simone seemed to have yielded.

Johnny and Vincent appeared willing to submit without complaint. With such an atmosphere, what more was there to say?

Everyone who had climbed to this level was astute enough to understand that opposing Aizen now was tantamount to courting death.

It was likely Aizen hoped someone would step out of line, giving him an excuse to kill and establish his authority.

Once he finished his tasks, the situation in Great Plain City was essentially stabilized.

While Aizen still held power, he had delegated much of it.

This was like unclenching a fist into an open hand.

Although the power was released, the hand was still his. Reclaiming it required only tightening his grip.

As night approached and the city gates were about to close, a hunched middle-aged man in coarse clothing, carrying a half-basket of herbs, blended into the crowd and left the city.

He appeared to be a simple herbalist who came to sell his wares.

It seemed he hadn’t sold all his herbs, as the remaining half-basket had started to wither, reducing their potency. The apothecaries in the city wouldn’t usually accept such herbs.

Looking slightly distressed, he walked out of the city without attracting much attention.

Such herbalists came and went daily.

The mountains a few dozen Miles from Great Plain City provided ample herbs for harvesting. These herbalists often rushed to the city to sell their fresh herbs for a good price.

Even selling half a basket could fetch of silver—a considerable sum. Losing half the harvest, however, would be painful.

"Hey, old brother! Need a ride? Just one kilometer for the fare," a voice called out.

A passing ox cart stopped. The driver, a burly and cheerful man, seemed to have just finished selling his goods in the city and was heading home, offering to take a passenger for some extra income.

The dark-skinned herbalist hesitated, then nodded and got on the cart.

The ox cart continued on its way, soon picking up another passenger—a woman with sallow skin, her face obscured by a headscarf and veil.

With two passengers aboard, the cart driver ceased calling out for more.

The single ox pulled the cart steadily, carrying its three passengers. Any more would have been too much weight, slowing their progress.

The cart’s wheels creaked along the road, "squeak, squeak."

Under the dim moonlight and in the chilly autumn wind, the ox cart rolled farther and farther away from Great Plain City.

The number of travelers along the roadside dwindled.

As expected, there were few people leaving the city.

There’s an old saying: "While others ride fine horses, I alone ride a donkey. Looking back at the woodcutter, I feel a bit smug."

The wealthy traveled by horse-drawn carriages, or rode horses or donkeys, leaving ox carts far behind.

The less fortunate walked on foot, their pace comparable to that of an ox cart. However, over time, they lacked the endurance of the ox and eventually fell behind, left to eat the dust.

The ox let out a low "moo" as the road ahead grew darker.

Sitting on the ox cart, Aizen sensed a faint trace of killing intent.

The dark-skinned herbalist, of course, was none other than Aizen in disguise.

Since he had announced to the public that he was entering seclusion for cultivation, he wanted to keep his departure from Great Plain City a secret from most people and other factions.

Thus, it was only natural for him to leave the city discreetly, blending in with the common folk to avoid detection.

But now, things were getting interesting. Even though he had tried to keep a low profile, someone had still taken notice of him.

What he thought would be a relaxing ox cart ride turned out to be a ride on a "black cart."

Aizen’s gaze casually shifted to the woman sitting next to him, then to the driver sitting ahead, his back to Aizen.

The killing intent emanated from the man driving the ox cart.

For someone of Aizen’s cultivation level, detecting killing intent was effortless. Even the slightest hint of hostility directed toward him was enough to trigger his awareness.

Unless the other party was a master skilled at concealing their killing intent and hostility, their emotions were impossible to hide from him.

But this ox cart driver was clearly no master.

There was no personal vendetta, yet the driver wanted to kill him.

The motive was simple—money.

Though herbalists lived hard lives, selling their herbs typically earned them a decent sum.

But Aizen was no mere herbalist.