In the sky above the Red Tiger Forest, Rihai watched the conversation between Aotian and the dying tiger with a strange expression.

“And now, what will you do with the forest? Kill all the beasts?” The tiger asked. His tone was curious, but his cold eyes remained unreadable.

“No, I already killed you… err…” Aotian began, but when he looked at the tiger still alive, he wasn’t sure how to continue.

“I get it, go on.” If the tiger still had strength, he probably would have rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, after our conversation, I don’t feel like killing anymore. Humans invaded your forest, you killed them, then sent beasts to destroy the city, and in the end, I killed you for the city. Honestly, I’m not even sure I should’ve killed you—after all, you were just going to stay here, and killing you won’t bring anyone back. And while I don’t agree with your actions, you were attacked first, and it wasn’t wrong for you to take revenge on the humans. It was just a matter of perspective.” Aotian said, scratching his head as he sat on the ground.

“Thanks, I’ll die very satisfied now knowing I died because some idiot didn’t think too hard about his actions.” The tiger mocked.

“Hey! It’s not that simple. My woman and I were terrified for a long time and ran a huge distance afraid you’d hunt us down to silence us. And don’t say you wouldn’t have killed us that day—you almost bit us!” Aotian complained.

“First of all, yes, I definitely would have killed or chased you if I could leave the forest. Second, you invaded first—your fault, not mine.” This time, the tiger really did roll his eyes with the little strength he had left.

Aotian looked at the tiger, speechless.

He never imagined that the terrifying, ferocious tiger he once knew would be so casual in the face of death. Not to mention… so good at being right.

Watching the tiger soaked in blood, whose eyes were slowly closing, though his spiritual voice remained casual, Aotian realized he no longer held anger or hatred toward him or the forest beasts.

In the end, beasts didn’t follow human logic or laws, only the law of the jungle. The tiger had a territory, and when it was invaded, he simply hunted the intruder.

That reminded Aotian of two men in Red Tiger City who had once commented that every time the forest was attacked, the tiger retaliated against the city—but until that point, the city had never been destroyed. Only when cultivators came during the last attack did the tiger give the order for the beasts to show no mercy.

Narrowing his eyes, an absurd idea surfaced in Aotian’s mind as he scratched his chin.

“Hey, want to live?” Aotian asked, sending his message via spiritual energy.

The tiger’s dimming eyes, with great effort, turned to Aotian.

“What do you mean, human?” The tiger asked.

“Exactly what I said. If you want to live, I can heal you—but it won’t be without cost.”

Aotian spoke simply, standing from the grass, putting away the spirit stone and sword into his storage pouch. With a pulse of spiritual energy through his body, the blood covering him was expelled, leaving him clean again.

The tiger’s eyes lit up slightly at his words, and he stared intently at Aotian.

From that gaze, Aotian could tell the tiger had accepted death—but that didn’t mean it had been his first choice.

“What are the terms?” The tiger asked, still wary of the enemy’s word.

“It’s simple. I have a sect, and we’re currently without a guardian beast. Of course, you’re still too weak and incompetent, so we’ll have to train you if you want to aim for that grand position. For now, you’ll start as my beast, and later you can climb the social ladder. What do you say?” Aotian said, smiling.

The tiger looked slightly speechless at the human and the absurd words he spoke.

But, feeling his life force slipping away, the tiger clenched his teeth with what strength he had left and transmitted:

“If you can heal me, I accept.”

Aotian’s eyes sparkled.

‘Yes, I’m being impulsive. And yes, I’m taming the first and only opponent I’ve truly feared in this world so far.’ He thought, thrilled by his own impulsiveness.

“Old Ancestor Bao, give me a hand here!” Aotian cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

“No need to shout, brat—I heard everything.” Bao Wuji appeared at his side, rolling his eyes, and walked toward the red tiger, who was startled by the sudden presences he hadn’t sensed before.

Rihai had also been brought down from the sky to the ground by the ancestor, and after taking a second to regain her bearings, she ran over to Aotian.

Placing her hands on his shoulders, she turned him around, lifted his arms, and inspected every part of his body without missing a detail. Upon seeing that he was unharmed, she sighed in relief, then looked at him with amusement.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit impulsive?” She asked, resting her head on his shoulder, her heart finally calming down after all the worry.

She wasn’t concerned about Aotian’s decision to save the tiger and didn’t mind much.

Taming a defeated enemy, when you had a powerful ancestor and a mysterious sect at your side, wasn’t really a big deal.

Her concern came from the battle he had just faced—alone, outnumbered, and exhausted. But now that the fight was over and she saw he wasn’t injured, she didn’t blame him. The cultivation world was like that: fight and grow. There was no way to stop it or ask him not to do it again.

She herself would do the same when needed—and already had in the past. Aotian couldn’t stop her, just like she couldn’t stop him. The most they could do was be there to prevent each other’s death at the last second, if possible.

Aotian wrapped his arms around her waist and embraced her comfortingly.

“Well, being impulsive is the privilege of the strong. As long as I don’t betray my heart or hurt those close to me, I’ll just live impulsively.” Kissing the top of her head, he smiled without a care.

His gaze then fell on the pile of beast corpses he had killed, and his heart became slightly unsettled. He said that as long as he didn’t betray his heart, he’d be fine, but his desire was never to do harm, and killing those beasts—who had nothing to do with the previous deaths—went a bit against his principles.

Rihai, noticing that Aotian had gone quiet, couldn’t help but look at him. Seeing the complex look he cast at the corpses, she felt slightly helpless.

‘He’s still so new to this world where the strong devour the weak.’ Rihai thought bitterly.

But that was also what surprised her the most. It seemed like a long time had passed, but Aotian had only formed his spiritual roots and begun cultivating less than a week before they were attacked and forced to flee. After that, they had spent three months on the run, and he barely had time to cultivate.

Only today, watching Aotian’s fight from the outside, had she learned that he was already at the 7th level of Qi Refinement. Even more surprising, he had defeated thousands of first-level beasts, and even a late-stage second-level one.

The more she thought about it, the more she understood why he was still so naive about the cultivation world. After all, he had been exposed to it for such a short time. Still, it made it even harder to understand his relationship with the Dao Infinite Sect and how he had become so powerful so quickly.

And the truth, which she didn’t know, was that Aotian had literally been in this world for only seven months, counting the four months of martial arts training.

Back to the present, Rihai, seeing Aotian’s distant and confused gaze toward the corpses, didn’t hesitate. She placed her hands on his face and pulled it toward her, making him look at her.

“Aotian, look at me.” She spoke seriously, drawing his attention.

He looked at her, startled by the sudden shift.

“Tian’er, don’t feel bad for them. We, cultivators, use beast materials to make pills, while they devour cultivators whole, using their energy-filled bodies like pills. Know that, if they had the chance to devour you—even if you hadn’t invaded their territory—they still would. And they also know that if humans can kill them, they will, for the value of their bodies. You don’t have to kill spiritual beasts if you don’t want to or don’t need to, but if you do, don’t blame yourself. That’s just how this world works.”

Rihai said, awakening Aotian, and continued:

“In this world, you kill or you die. Mercy is a privilege only the strong can afford. If you feel those beasts were innocent—don’t. They also wouldn’t see humans as innocent. But if you still think like that, then let this be a lesson: next time, don’t go around killing everything you see without thinking, just so you won’t regret it later.”

She finished, looking at him seriously.

The truth was that she didn’t care about those beasts, nor about the people of Red Tiger City. Whether they were dead or alive made no difference to her.

She only cared about those close to her.

She detested cruelty, just like Aotian, but when it came to life or death, she had been used to it since childhood—to the point it felt natural.

She cared deeply for Aotian and didn’t want him to be foolish enough to blame himself for things that were normal in this world. As long as he didn’t become someone cruel, who killed without reason, enjoyed hurting, torturing, and harming others, she would support him without hesitation.

Aotian, returning to himself and seeing her concerned gaze, smiled softly and gently stroked her golden hair.

“Don’t worry, I know all that… I’m just not used to it yet. And I’m a bit regretful for my recklessness. I didn’t need the materials from their bodies—I just killed them meaninglessly, driven by anger.” He explained softly.

“It wasn’t meaningless. It served as training. Fighting and killing is essential to becoming strong. Only by becoming stronger can you protect what you love. Don’t sacrifice what’s important out of mercy for those who wouldn’t show it to you.” Rihai said seriously, cutting him off.

Aotian blinked, surprised by her words—they made a lot of sense to him.

‘I didn’t really need this combat experience, since my avatars have been gaining plenty for me. But still, Rihai isn’t wrong. I just need to do things my own way. If I don’t need to, I won’t kill unless I’m sure I want to. If I want to kill, then I’ll kill—because the enemy won’t show mercy either. Simple and clear.’

His eyes sharpened, and his heart completely calmed.

At the same time the conversation was taking place, Bao Wuji approached the dying tiger, who no longer had the strength to even be cautious before the unknown man drawing near.

Waving his hand, Bao Wuji’s energy infiltrated the tiger’s wound, and he quickly sensed a violent and sharp spiritual energy inside the beast’s body, destroying and preventing its powerful natural recovery.

With a calm gaze, Bao Wuji easily crushed the energy of the sword intent prototype.

But even without that destructive energy, the tiger was still mortally wounded. Aotian, though he had never studied medicine, could easily analyze the tiger’s internal structure thanks to Bao Wuji’s powerful spiritual energy. His energy then circulated around the animal’s organs, repositioning and protecting them. Of course, that wasn’t enough.

Taking five white pills from his storage, Bao Wuji enveloped them in his energy and launched them into the tiger’s mouth, whose eyes widened in pain from feeling his organs being moved.

Roar!

The tiger roared in agony, but his opened mouth was perfect for the pills to enter.

Still controlling the energy surrounding the pills, Bao Wuji quickly dissolved them inside the tiger’s body, which stopped roaring as it felt a calming energy warm and nourish it.

Then, under the four-dimensional vision provided by spiritual energy, Aotian observed the process as the tiger’s body slowly began to regenerate.

The pills were merely early-stage Founder-Tier, refined by his avatar Dan Hong using Refiner-Tier materials and kept by Bao Wuji when they set out on their expedition. Though powerful, on their own they wouldn’t be enough to heal the near-death tiger.

Just one would be enough to heal a cultivator, but the tiger’s body was massive, powerful, and critically wounded—even five pills wouldn’t suffice.

However, with the aid of Bao Wuji’s energy, the medicinal effect spread quickly through the beast’s massive body, and the medicinal energy was used with maximum efficiency. Combined with the beast’s powerful natural recovery, it didn’t take long for the wound on its chest to close and for a bit of life and majesty to return to its body.

Struggling to stand, its paws trembling, the tiger finally managed to rise. He wasn’t fully recovered yet, but his life was no longer in danger—and it wouldn’t be long until he was back at his peak.

Aotian and Rihai had also finished their conversation and approached.

“So?” Aotian stood before the tiger and smiled.

The tiger, seeing the man who had nearly killed him draw near, had a complicated look in his eyes.

But upon sensing that the old man who had healed him—and who had displayed a terrifying spiritual energy unlike anything he had ever experienced—was still standing nearby, he sighed internally and stopped hesitating.

The enormous red tiger, powerless, lowered his head and bowed.

“Master.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep