Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Transcendence (4)
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Seoran dressed in her ceremonial robes.
First came the upper garment and pants.
Women added a long skirt on top.
She draped the heavy robe over it all and tied the sash at her waist. Done.
This was the ceremonial attire for high-ranking cultivators of the Black Bamboo Sect.
An opulent outfit made with generous amounts of fine fabric.
You could tell just from the dangling sleeves and hem.
No one could put it on alone.
Naturally, she now had attendants to help.
It wasn't a rigid hierarchy of servitude, though—just an employment relationship paid in spirit stones.
The sect simply covered their wages from its funds.
She walked through unfamiliar spaces in unfamiliar clothes.
A central garden ringed by various buildings, a sprawling compound walled in by barriers taller than a person.
It was modest enough to call a mansion.
At least by pre-modern noble standards; to Seoran, it was dauntingly vast.
There was even a separate building just for guests.
That's where Little Dragon Girl Damcheong and the exchange student Geum Yeongyeong were staying.
The three of them had shared breakfast that morning.
After the meal, Geum Yeongyeong immediately began her duties.
Oddly, Damcheong had gone to tour the schoolhouse.
She seemed curious about human life, having only known it through divination and lore.
Seoran had her own schedule to keep as well.
*****
The Black Bamboo Sect had staked its future on the Transcendence ritual.
It had even gone so far as to halve defenses around the mountain range housing the capital sects' headquarters—a desperate gambit.
No force would dare interfere, or face total war.
The surrounding capital sects were on high alert.
Allied sects fell silent as one.
Hostile ones, meanwhile, chattered endlessly.
Just twenty years old? Transcendence isn't child's play.
Desperate or not, pulling a stunt like this?
It'll take centuries to recover from the losses.
That's what they said outwardly, while inwardly they prayed.
Please, please fail...
If this succeeds, we're all dead...
Heavens above, this can't be happening...
On the day of the ritual, a brief headline swept the West Continent.
Black Bamboo Sect births a twenty-year-old Transcendence Cultivator.
Neighboring realms clustered around Liang Kingdom.
Minor capital sects at the edge of the West Continent.
Even word crossed the sea to other continents.
If successful, it wasn't a desperate gamble—it was genius.
The leap into the abyss had seized heaven's fortune.
The Black Bamboo Sect would surely ascend.
And ascension for a capital sect shook heaven and earth.
Chaos was inevitable for the West Continent.
The leadership of every sect suddenly had much more to worry about.
The Golden Craft Sect, of course, didn't agonize much.
If you can't beat them, join them.
Lately, the Black Bamboo Sect and Golden Craft Sect had grown very close.
They were now even sharing secret technique manuals.
Transcendence Cultivator Geum Jungpae was an expert in earth-attribute techniques.
Unlike secluded Primordial Spirit Cultivators focused solely on self-cultivation, he had spent his life as a scholar teaching others.
Today, as part of a talent and knowledge exchange, he had come to impart the Golden Craft Sect's techniques to Seoran.
Before the private lesson began, the two exchanged pleasantries.
"Is Elder Geum well?"
Seoran asked, wondering if their shared surname meant anything.
"Yes, quite well. Might I ask what relation you two share?"
"She's like a great-granddaughter to me."
"I see."
Seoran nodded, then something occurred to her.
Wasn't the head of the last envoy team also a relative?
Great-granddaughter again?
Just coincidence?
Seoran brushed it off.
After some warming up, the lesson began.
Transcendence was the transcendence of the flesh.
It had three key features.
Golden Core formation, Indestructible Body, and imperviousness to all poisons.
The Golden Core formed in the lower dantian served as the central axis.
This core drew in vast spiritual energy and refined it into pure spiritual power.
Thus, a Transcendence Cultivator wielded inexhaustible spiritual power, limited only by their own capacity.
Indestructible Body was a metaphor for superhuman vitality.
As long as soul and core remained intact, a Transcendence Cultivator was nearly immortal.
Wounds regenerated; food, breath, and sleep were unnecessary.
At this point, Seoran had a question.
"What if an arm or leg gets severed—does it grow back?"
"Not to that extent."
Seoran felt a twinge of disappointment.
The final feature was imperviousness to all poisons.
No baleful energies could invade the perfected microcosm.
It granted resistance to yokai essence, demonic qi, evil qi, and curses alike.
Seoran asked again.
"Then what can yokai, demonic cultivators, evil spirits, or curse-weavers do against them?"
Geum Jungpae replied with elegant bluntness.
"Just die. Or run like hell."
The lesson progressed swiftly.
The technique Seoran was learning was called the Great Mountain Earth-Shaker Immortal Art.
Roughly translated: lifting mountains and shaking the earth.
Legend had it that at great accomplishment, a handful of spiritual power unleashed devastating might.
Its fame rested solely on reputation for a simple reason.
Almost no one had ever achieved great accomplishment.
Entry was easy; mastery, fiendishly hard.
Most Transcendence Cultivators who practiced it never reached the pinnacle.
At first glance, it seemed flawed.
But it wasn't some ordinary technique—it was the Golden Craft Sect's secret art.
For one, progress was lightning-fast.
So fast that some cultivators reached Primordial Spirit Realm before mastering the art.
An absurd mismatch where realm outpaced technique proficiency.
Plus, it was plenty powerful even short of mastery.
The killer was the back half's difficulty.
You breezed through entry to mid-stage.
Easy to start, rapid growth, godlike peak.
No major side effects, either.
It turned every demonic art in the world into kindling.
An egoist's dream.
It suited Seoran perfectly—the cultivator who made turtles of all her peers.
Days later, Seoran donned her robes again and left the house.
She had grown quite accustomed to the new Great Mountain Earth-Shaker Immortal Art.
Geum Jungpae was undoubtedly an excellent teacher.
But leaving the sect's future star entirely to an outsider would be odd.
So the Black Bamboo Sect had selected its own instructor.
Her teacher was one of the sect's mere four Primordial Spirit Cultivators.
Different elemental affinity or not, he would provide all the aid needed to reach that realm.
Heart pounding, Seoran headed to the meeting spot.
Guided from the entrance, she arrived at a small library.
"Ah, you're already here."
A man called from across the bookshelves.
"Hello, I'm Ryu Seoran."
She bowed politely, and a reply came at once.
"Ah, I know you very well. Honestly, is there anyone in the Black Bamboo Sect who doesn't? Have a seat there for now."
The man chuckled as if amused.
She sat and waited a moment. Then a man appeared, arms laden with books.
His face was hidden behind the stack.
Still concealing it, he asked,
"Does my voice ring any bells?"
It brimmed with playful mischief.
"Your voice?"
Seoran pondered deeply.
But nothing specific came to mind.
She answered honestly.
"Um, not really."
"I see. Well, my voice isn't very distinctive."
The man plunked the book stack on the table.
Seoran's eyes met his.
An old memory bubbled to the surface.
"E-Elder Yeo!"
Yeo Mujin—the one who told her to call him Elder Yeo.
The benefactor who appeared out of nowhere with advice when she struggled at the Foundation Establishment threshold.
Seoran shot up from her chair.
She bent at a perfect right angle in greeting.
"Thank you so much for that day!"
Yeo Mujin smiled.
"You haven't forgotten entirely, then. When was that, anyway? Four years? Five? Something like that, right?"
After reaching Foundation Establishment, Seoran had searched high and low for Yeo Mujin.
She scoured member rosters, but no trace of the name.
Wondering if he was a visitor, she asked around using his description.
No one knew him.
In time, the memory faded.
But of course she couldn't find him.
Primordial Spirit Cultivators' records were top secret.
To the flustered Seoran, Yeo Mujin asked,
"So, did you eat that bamboo shoot I gave you? You didn't just toss it, I hope?"
Seoran ransacked her memory.
Did I eat that bamboo shoot?
As bamboo shoot rice? Or in another dish?
I definitely didn't throw it away...
"I-I think I did!"
Her bouncy reaction amused him, so Yeo Mujin kept teasing.
"Sure you did? You're not fibbing to an old fogey, are you?"
It took quite a while for Seoran to regain her composure, having met her long-lost benefactor in this utterly unexpected situation.