The Turtle Altar

A massive altar constructed by flipping the shell of a giant turtle upside down. Ryeo-ah had scraped together every last drop of essence from the spiritual beast, Taegwi, to fashion this colossal vessel and altar. It was an unprecedented creation, one whose ultimate outcome even its creator could only vaguely guess.

"Heh. Even I am eager to see what he will obtain from this."

There was a truth she had realized while connecting with and dominating Taegwi's mind: this ancient turtle had lived far too long, to the point where its very soul was rotting away.

"No wonder its resistance was so pathetic despite its immense age. The creature had already lost all will to live."

It wasn't particularly unusual. It was a sickness of the mind that commonly afflicted long-lived species of low cultivation.

In this world, there were certain races blessed with extraordinary longevity despite lacking high cultivation. Usually, those gifted with such long natural lifespans were either too dim-witted to ever practice cultivation, or they were inherently superior beings born to rule, like dragons.

But there were always exceptions. Some long-lived beings possessed both a naturally vast lifespan and intelligence high enough to build civilizations. Yet, blocked by the wall of talent, they lived for eons until their own flesh felt less like a vessel and more like a prison.

As their minds deteriorated day by day, they would look at their robust, unyielding bodies—still far too healthy to die—and sink into deep lethargy. Naturally long-lived species usually had genes that dulled their perception of time, but acquired immortals—spiritual beasts that awakened their spiritual channels late in life and were suddenly burdened with the duty of longevity by the heavens—enjoyed no such luxury.

A mind genetically wired to endure only a mortal lifespan, trapped inside a spiritual beast's endless existence. Spiritual beasts that had never reached the absolute limits of the soul fell into infinite ennui within this contradiction. Yet, because their bodies remained robust, they continued to grow, even as time crawled by like a sluggish snail.

Thus, they became living corpses, born from a rift between mind and body that had breached its critical limit. Many called them the Fallen Spirits.

The cultivators of White Dragon Island had poured their hearts into caring for and preserving this turtle, which was both a legacy of the Heavenly Dragon and their guardian deity. But their kindness had turned out to be a poison.

After the five great dragons departed the Five Dragons Sea Region, all the abandoned pet could do was cherish the memories of its masters and fulfill its duty to guard what they left behind. But when so much time passed that even those duties and memories faded into oblivion, what was left for them?

Chime—

The bell tied to Ryeo-ah's wrist rang out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a bewitching resonance. In response, the bubbling, milky-white lake seethed as if answering her call.

"O noble lake of flesh, boasting a pure white jade-like splendor even when ground down from bone and blood. I shall govern all, so follow me to the very end."

Chime, chime—

"You, who were closer to the White Dragon than any other, you, who were the first to be granted the dragon's blood—unleash every drop of yourself unto him."

Woooooo—

The ominously white lake resonated, letting out a melancholic, low rumble. At the bizarre and chilling sight, the Dokkaebi gathered around began to whisper among themselves.

"To think she cleaned out our family vaults just to prepare something like this."

"Thanks to that, we've squandered most of the wealth we plundered from piracy. Even the precious resources we brought from the main family estate are completely depleted."

An elder swallowed hard, staring at the upturned turtle-shell cauldron with a look of deep regret.

"Mmm. Still, using the corpses of all those Three Extremes experts we killed as sacrifices feels like a waste. They would have made excellent jiangshi."

Yet, none of them dared to complain directly to the woman with the bell on her wrist.

Chime, chime, chime—

For their Family Head had already publicly announced the true identity of the girl dancing in her fluttering, unique celestial robes.

"I'm sure our senior has a plan," Kang Ha-yeon said, snapping her fan shut, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Think of it this way. Imagine what kind of miraculous effect an altar fueled by such an astronomical amount of diverse treasures will produce."

Standing beside Ha-yeon was a woman shifting uncomfortably. She had water-blue hair and matching eyes, but her expression carried a distinctly venomous edge. It was the Sneering Ghost Girl, Kang So-ye.

Had Gang Hayun seen her now, he would have been quite surprised. It hadn't been long since he provided her with spiritual elixirs, yet she had already pushed her physical body to its absolute limit.

"Sister So-ye? Straighten your shoulders."

"You... Never mind."

"Fufufu. Aren't you excited too, sister? I wonder how our precious little brother will surprise us this time."

Taegwi Island, a famous landmark of the Dongheo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sea, was actually carried on the back of this colossal spiritual turtle. Since the entire legacy of White Dragon Island—which had once claimed dominion over the Dongheo Sea—rested upon this very turtle, the spoils of war were unimaginably luxurious.

Of course, the senior named Ryeo-ah had confiscated the vast majority of those spoils under the pretext of performing the ultimate ritual... but the haul was so massive that even the leftovers were incredibly abundant.

After some deliberation, Hayun had decided to use those leftovers to elevate Kang So-ye and Kang Su-gong to the Three Extremes realm. Their innate talent was already exceptional, and they had been standing right before the threshold of the Three Extremes for a long time. He figured that tossing them a proper spiritual elixir would be more than enough to break through the barrier.

Sure enough, after entering closed-door cultivation with the elixirs, both So-ye and Su-gong succeeded in pushing their physical bodies to the absolute limit in one fell swoop. Though So-ye herself didn't look particularly pleased about it.

"Right... I am curious to see what that monster of a man will become after undergoing a ritual personally conducted by our senior."

Previously, Hayun had withheld his support for So-ye and Su-gong's growth, fearing they would become too difficult to control. The fact that he had now permitted them to reach the Three Extremes meant he had calculated that he could easily handle them regardless.

"We're going to have a lot of visitors soon," Ha-yeon remarked.

"No doubt."

No matter how remote a location they had chosen, the scale of the ritual was simply too massive to hide. Who could possibly fail to notice a grand rite that sacrificed an entire island-sized turtle?

Especially since they had already drawn plenty of attention with their recent exploits. The eyes of the entire Five Dragons Sea Region would soon turn toward this place. Many would come to either force their way to the table or disrupt the feast entirely.

"You and Kang Su-gong will have to work hard. That is the very reason you were allowed to reach this realm."

"Ha." So-ye's face twisted in disgust.

Look at this bitch, acting all high and mighty just because she has a man backing her. I could have reached the Three Extremes ages ago even without his damn elixirs. I only held back because I had to walk on eggshells around him.

So-ye despised her red-haired sister, who was in no way superior to her. But what could she do? Every time her old, cruel nature reared its head, the face of the man who had utterly dominated her flashed in her mind.

Rebellion. The word flared briefly in her mind, only to flicker like a dying ember and fade away, leaving nothing but cold ash.

With him... perhaps even the Johwa realm is possible.

Staring at the turtle cauldron bubbling like thick white porridge, So-ye bit her lip and turned to head inside the ship.

"Where are you going, sister?"

"To train. Got a problem?"

"No. Just... do your best, then."

"Piss off. I'm leaving."

Their childish bickering came to an end. Meanwhile, Ryeo-ah let out a soft sigh as she stared at the dragon-shaped ripples etched upon the churning white surface of the water.

"Wait. Why is that here?"

My body floats. The color enveloping me is a spotless, pristine white. Yet, it is so blindingly radiant that even with my eyelids tightly shut, the intense light pierces through, threatening to blind me.

At the same time, a bizarre sensation brushes against and entangles my body. It feels as though the mysterious liquid covering me is wriggling, slowly taking shape.

Should I try swimming?

There is a slight resistance, but nothing that can hinder my movements. Parting the viscous lake of liquid, I instinctively move toward the source of this blinding light.

I don't even know why I'm doing it. I just know it instinctively. Just as a newborn fish swims and a moth rushes toward a flame. With every step ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closer to that place, a strange sense of fulfillment and accomplishment washes over me.

An accomplishment akin to pure pleasure. The more I cut through the white currents, the more my swimming accelerates, as if caught in a rapid. And there, within the rushing waters, I see it. A "me" far too distinct to be an illusion.

What the hell is that?

To be precise, it is Gang Hayun as a child. Sneaking out behind his parents' backs, unable to endure his starving belly, chewing on wild insects.

Ah, was that when my old man was throwing a fit about buying tatami doors?

Our daily portions were already half of what other households ate, but when he cut our three meals down to two, and then to one, I simply couldn't take it anymore. I remember chewing on bugs back then. Surprisingly, they didn't taste half bad when roasted.

Is this place trying to force some cheap sob story on me by showing me my past?

I have plenty to say about my miserable childhood, but I don't hold any lingering grudges. I settled things with the guy I could call a friend at a tavern, the abusive old man is dead, and my mother is living well enough in her own way. I haven't gone to visit her, but I made sure she was treated decently.

Ryeo-ah, what exactly do you want from me by showing me this?

Ah, look at that kid getting the absolute shit beaten out of him.

The young Gang Hayun was being ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beaten like a dog again. Well, he was a weakling who hadn't even reached the Core Condensation realm back then, so there was nothing he could do. There was no way he could have beaten his fully grown father, who was at the early stage of Core Condensation. Looking back, that old man really had nothing better to do.

Still, even if it was a long-forgotten past, watching myself get thrashed by a piece of trash like him wasn't particularly pleasant.

Why on earth could we only begin cultivation after reaching adulthood?

If only my body had been capable of cultivating during my childhood, I could have escaped that wretched life much sooner.

It was at that moment. As if answering my wish, a spool of white thread seeped into the vision.

Well, look at that.

The young Gang Hayun, having fled to the mountain behind the village after his beating. Soon, a brilliantly glowing herb appeared before the boy. As if possessed, he plucked and ate it, instantly obtaining a robust body capable of cultivation.

A fortuitous encounter. A contrived stroke of luck straight out of a novel. I wondered if this place was mocking me. Look at what you missed out on, loser.

*Flash!*

"Wait, it's not?"

The white thread seeps into me. It embeds itself diagonally across my entire body, wriggling. Instantly, my physical form begins to undergo a significant transformation.

*Sliiiide— Shhhhh—*

My frame and bone structure grow sturdier, and my inner core swells with a far more vast and abundant energy. If asked to describe exactly what changed, it would be hard to put into words... but to put it simply, it felt as if the idle delusion I used to dream of before falling asleep—what if I had cultivated since childhood?—had suddenly become reality.

*Sliiiide—*

I get the gist of it now.

Countless scenes from my past continue to drift by like a panorama. Various moments that could have been turning points in my life. But I do not interfere with any of them. The capacity of the thread I can use is limited. This is a time for choice and focus.

As time flows, a relatively recent past appears. Kang Baek-jin. The moment he first encountered me.

Skip.

Altering this moment would actually work against me. In the first place, this isn't some absurd divine power that manipulates the timeline to rewrite the past. It isn't a transcendent force dealing with space-time or branching paths... rather, it is closer to a mechanism that helps me attain the ideal power I envision.

The ideal self I dream of. Boundless imagination is key here.

Found it.

The ideal self had had I delved into a supreme mental cultivation art instead of the Great Mountain Demonic Wisdom Art. If I had focused on soul-refining techniques, I would undoubtedly look like this.

Pitch-black chains rattle violently around me. Was it the Ink Shadow Soul-Chaining Art? Yes, some Ink-something Soul-Chaining Art. It was a minimal defensive measure I had prepared back then to deal with Ryeo-ah when our relationship was rocky. I recall having quite a high affinity for it. I had only abandoned it because I was too busy mastering the Great Mountain Demonic Wisdom Art to look elsewhere.

But if I had cast aside the Great Mountain Demonic Wisdom Art and trained only my soul, I would have reached it. Without a doubt, I would have reached the absolute limit of the mind.

In the end, what I need is imagination. I faintly picture myself having reached the absolute limit of the mind. And then—

It worked.

*Clank, rattle—*

Jet-black chains coil and slide around me. I have just touched the absolute limit of the mind. At the same time, the threads and viscous white currents surrounding me diminish drastically. As if to say that if something is gained, something must be spent.

"Over already?"

What a shame. One might call me greedy for complaining after basically getting a free pass to the Three Extremes realm, but still, I wanted more. I was busy rolling my eyes over the surrounding white liquid and the massive crystal orb—which was undoubtedly the giant turtle's inner core—when...

*Fwip!*

The painting I had tucked securely into my robes, fearing I might lose it, suddenly unfurls.

*Whoosh!*

The sun painted at the center of the scroll bursts into flames. Simultaneously, the white pond, which had receded significantly, begins to boil violently. It might sound strange, but the sight resembles pure ecstasy. It is like a puppy eagerly welcoming a long-lost master, and I am momentarily taken aback by the sheer bizarre nature of it.

*Swoooosh—*

This time, the currents flow in reverse. If the vision had been showing my growth up until now, it is now regressing. Past my birth, past the infant cradled in my mother's arms, all the way back to when I was a mere fetus.

Soon, horns sprout from the fetus's head, and wings grow from its back. Its skin becomes densely armored with three distinct types of stone, fitting together like scales. It is a form closely resembling a dragon—yet imbued with the unique essence of my own existence.

*Whoosh—*

The eye of the sun within the painting stares directly at me. It is offering me a choice.

Between the clumsy, patchwork ideal that a creature like me had half-heartedly envisioned...

And the path of the dragon, meticulously designed from the cradle without a single shred of waste.

It demands that I choose one.