Self-Powered Growth

After the whole hierarchy-sorting session had finally wrapped up—

"U-uh…."

Geumhae knelt with dutiful formality, both arms raised. That usually expressionless, tidy face now held a sheen of wronged tears. Nain sat on the sofa with her arms crossed, looking down at her avatar with leisurely composure.

Flutter~

Beside them, Pow drifted in lazy circles around Geumhae, bobbing this way and that as if desperate to offer comfort. The sight drew a soft snort of laughter from Nain. For some strange reason, Pow had always been hopelessly soft on Geumhae.

Tap, tap.

Nain lightly patted the empty seat beside her.

"Come here."

Geumhae hesitated, half-rising, half-crouching. She eyed Nain the way a thoroughly scolded cat might, and Nain simply grabbed her arm and hauled her down onto the sofa.

"What happened to that confident attitude? Why are you so scared?"

"Th-that's because Master…."

"Master?"

Nain's head tilted. Where had Master come from all of a sudden? Up until a moment ago, she had been calling her Sister.

"Ah— th-that is…. I thought the title of Sister might have displeased you…. I apologize……."

She finished speaking and hung her head again. A pang of pity rose unbidden.

Did I crush her spirit too hard…?

She had been such a cold, self-assured child—and now she looked like a cat left out in the rain. At the sight of that wilted, hunched posture, Nain found herself shaking her head.

"No, no. You can call me Sister. Family sounds better than Master."

What even was this situation. Soothing a newborn was nowhere in her life plan. And Master, of all things.

Still, Master is a bit much… I'm not some vicious demonic cultivator.

A compilation of Outer Sector atrocities she'd once scrolled through on the community boards floated up in her mind—heavily censored, of course.

The energy-devouring cultivators who, possessed by demonic influence, had ground tens of millions of ordinary people into paste across entire continents. The near-divine Geumdan-gi quasi-immortals who sold out to the demon races and crushed critical military planets whole. The demonic cultivators whose very names had been scrubbed from history, leaving only the disasters behind.

Only the lunatics who carved their names into places like that would keep slaves.

Right. Sister was better than Master. She would just think of it as gaining one more adorable little sibling.

And besides—wasn't this a precious workforce that would labor diligently on her behalf?

"…Then, Sister."

Another awkward form of address. Geumhae's eyes brimmed; her voice had shrunk to a mumble.

"At first… I was only trying to choose the right title…. And the reason I hugged you first was because Sister had done it first before…… hic."

Ah.

Nain sifted back through her memories. Before a clear ego had fully awakened—thinking carefully, she really had been the one to start it. Poking, squishing, scooping her into hugs without a second thought.

…So she had memories from back then?

She hadn't known. She had assumed Geumhae only retained knowledge and memory from the moment her self-awareness bloomed. In truth, she had known everything from the very beginning.

Wait. Then that means….

Then the bad one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was her.

Touching and hugging without hesitation—Nain had done it first. Petting her head and burying her face against her chest—Nain had done it first. Geumhae had simply returned exactly what she had been taught.

The one-sided aggressor had been Nain all along.

"Hic, hic."

Unable to look Geumhae in the face, Nain turned toward the living-room television instead. Beside her, Pow twisted its body in open disdain and scolded her. Nain covered her face with one small palm and let out a long sigh.

What am I even doing right now….

She gave her pathetic self a light mental slap—then activated Geumhae Changcheon.

Her left pupil flashed gold. The right eye of the sniffling Geumhae answered in kind, resonating with the same light. In an instant, the two of them—emotion and mind—touched.

Two bodies that had been cut off from each other became one. Dormant spiritual power stirred back to life, circulating, mingling. Nain drew Geumhae into her arms and stroked her hair with the gentle patience one might show a child.

"…Sister?"

Geumhae found herself buried against Nain before she could think. A small heartbeat reached her ear.

Thump. Thump.

Nain's pulse, steeped in spiritual power. It soon overlapped with Geumhae's own rhythm and resonated deep within.

In that moment, no words were needed. Through the mind-link of Geumhae Changcheon, their sincere feelings passed between them whole. That alone was enough for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠each to know the other's heart and state.

Geumhae's tear-streaked, crumpled expression gradually settled into composure—the cold, aloof blankness of before. Nain's face, by contrast, began to twist through a vivid range of color.

Wh-what is this….

Sparkle, sparkle—bright and multicolored. Unlike her own emotions, which lay sunken in gray, a riot of hues blazed as if insisting on their own existence. Pure, primary colors, as varied and unguarded as a child's.

Startled, the strength went out of the arms holding Geumhae.

And then—

Squeeze!

Geumhae only tightened her hold, seizing the body that had started to pull away. Both arms locked around Nain with solid force.

"So that was it. That was how it was, Sister. I wasn't being hated after all?"

"Yes. So the sniffling ends here. We're busy people."

This time she did not lose the momentum. Refusing to be swept along by the atmosphere, she coolly pushed the arms away and shut off Geumhae Changcheon. The golden light that had lit the dark living room faded; the deep mental connection severed.

"…Understood, Sister."

Fully blank-faced once more, Geumhae leaned back against the sofa. She looked somewhat deflated, lost in thought, but Nain did not bother speaking first. She stood for a moment and stretched, working the tension from her body.

Cold sweat ran down her back.

I almost got overwhelmed again….

A sidelong glance.

Her eyes found Geumhae sitting quietly. That cool, sharp air was a perfect copy of Decia and their mother. Was that a trait of the avatar, or something innate to Geumhae herself?

…Am I just weak to that kind of atmosphere?

No. She shook her head firmly. That was not the important part right now.

This time was way too hard.

Avatar body or not, every action and judgment had been entirely her own responsibility. But now that Geumhae's ego had fully awakened….

The peaceful era had arrived—Geumhae would suffer outside, and Nain would only need to cultivate!

Two months remained. Within that window, she had to raise her realm to Yeongi-gi 4-Star and elevate Geumhae Changcheon to Rank 2.

Given the nature of the Five Spirits Ascension Guidance Canon, she would open her divine form at Yeongi-gi 4-Star. And once Geumhae Changcheon hit Rank 2, the ego would strengthen, or some new power would appear—something of the sort.

And then—

A truly enjoyable shut-in cultivation life, lived from the corner of her room, would begin. Just imagining the approaching era made her happy on its own. Geumhae stared blankly at her Sister.

"Hmm…."

Think of it simply.

If the gap between a Five Elements Spiritual Root and a Four Elements Spiritual Root was assumed to be exactly threefold, then what the former gained from a day of study, the latter obtained three days' worth of in the same span of time.

One month became three. One year became three. Ten years became thirty. The disparity only widened the further one went. And on this side, the efficiency was practically that of two Four Elements root holders working as one.

Results a Five Elements root holder would need a full week of training to earn could be seized in a single day. Flip the thought, and while others trained for one day, this side pulled effortlessly a week ahead.

On top of that, she possessed the Budoseong Body—a Dual Element–grade constitution. Nain's training efficiency could be said to have surpassed even a Triple Element root holder.

Soft.

Warmth traveled through their joined hands. Nain and Geumhae sat cross-legged together, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠circulating the Five Spirits Ascension Guidance Canon as one.

At the heart of the cultivation chamber, a low-grade spirit stone burned furiously, drawing ambient spiritual energy from the surroundings. At the center of the Spirit-Gathering Formation, the rising qi was inhaled at once and refined into spiritual power.

The Five Spirits Ascension Guidance Canon and the Five Elements Ascending Spirit Five Paths Method had branched from the same root art—so at a glance their surfaces looked similar, yet the insights within were entirely different.

Where the Five Elements Ascending Spirit Five Paths Method divided the Five Elements into yin and yang and inscribed nine stars of spiritual essence into the dantian in the form of the Ten Heavenly Stems—

the core of the Five Spirits Ascension Guidance Canon was circulation.

Nain marveled at the sophistication of the transmission.

"How did anyone even think to use a method like this?"

Perhaps that was simply what came of an art that brushed the edge of Heavenly-grade. Compared to every manual she had seen, it was alien and radical—and yet stable enough that comparing it to that Five Elements Whatever felt almost rude.

The representative formula of Yeongi-gi was Nine Palaces, One Path Returning to One. True to the name, one had to arrange stars of spiritual essence in the dantian according to the formation diagram of the Nine Palaces. In other words, the spiritual stars always existed in the dantian as fixed forms.

Methods differed from art to art, but the underlying approach—that much she had believed to be self-evident truth.

The Five Spirits Ascension Guidance Canon ignored that self-evident truth.

She focused her mind and guided her spiritual power. Again: the core was circulation. Not driving spiritual essence into the dantian like nails, but allowing it to flow.

Through that, the cycles and currents of nature were realized inside the body. Even a moment's thought made plain how far outside common sense it was—how thoroughly insane.

The Nine Palaces were a process of weaving a formation diagram around nine reference points. It was like painting a picture inside the body, and the spiritual stars were the critical anchor points of that picture. And those axes of the picture did not stay still—they rotated, their symmetries reversing in real time?

There was a reason it was a Heavenly-grade art. The difficulty was so extreme that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even ordinary geniuses would not dare attempt it. With the talent and comprehension of a mere Five Elements root, the attempt alone would rupture every meridian in the body and kill the practitioner on the spot.

And yet it absolutely required a Five Elements root—so this transmission was magnificent and truly wretched at once. Only by pushing enlightenment, effort, and understanding of the art to their absolute limits could one barely learn it.

Which was exactly why she liked it so much.

She did not have to suffer any of that hardship—proficiency filled itself on its own. Difficulty? Hardship? None of it mattered. As long as she repeated the work, the hard hours would pass by themselves.

The instant the art's rank rose, its core formulas and insights poured through her body.

Rumble….

At the center of her dantian, the Gui Water Star turned its vast bulk. In Geumhae's dantian, the Ren Water Star moved in answer. Divide Water, and you obtain yang Ren and yin Gui.

Yin and yang crossed; immense spiritual power surged forth. It was dual cultivation of nature and life—possible only for two who held spiritual powers of opposing natures. The dual cultivation that ordinary men and women practiced together, Nain was performing with her own avatar.