The Pain of Progress

Having let go of his greed for cultivation to some extent, U Do-baek had changed so much that he could be considered a completely different person from when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they first met. A genuine, unpretentious ease exuded from every single word he spoke, and he no longer gritted his teeth to scramble for profits like other cultivators.

"Would you like to proceed as before?"

"Of course."

A few days after concluding their transaction in Bul-mang-won, a messenger from the Yeongbu Merchant Alliance visited Heukgyodo. Previously, Gwak Jeong-sin would show his face diligently even for the smallest matters, but since becoming the Vice Chairman, he usually sent someone in his stead unless there was a truly critical matter, just as he had done this time.

"Lord Dragon."

The young messenger politely retrieved a jade slip. When Jekyeong reached out, the jade slip flew into his grasp as if drawn by a vacuum.

The Record of Singular Flames.

Scanning the contents of the jade slip quickly, Jekyeong nodded in satisfaction. Obtained through his exchanges in the Mansi Assembly, the Record of Singular Flames was a sort of catalog compiling the famous fires of the cultivation world. As one could guess from the name "singular flames," the fires recorded here were far from ordinary, each possessing unique properties.

The first half of the record contained information on relatively common singular flames, while the latter half was filled with various descriptions of legendary fires in the cultivation world whose very names carried an extraordinary weight. However, those descriptions were so verbose that they read less like reliable information and more like a novel scribbled by a madman lost in wild delusions. Jekyeong merely memorized the names of those "famous" fires and erased the descriptions beneath them from his mind.

Power isn't what's important. In fact, the more ordinary, the better.

Jekyeong had acquired the Record of Singular Flames to broaden his horizons and see if there was any flame he could adopt as his Origin Fire. To a cultivator who practiced fire arts, an Origin Fire was no mere flame. It was a tool like a Dharma Treasure, a resource like spirit stones, and far more important than both because it was directly connected to the cultivator's very origin.

The benefits of having an Origin Fire were too numerous to list. Not only was it incredibly useful in various cultivation arts like alchemy and artifact forging, but it also shone brilliantly in combat. With only a slight exaggeration, the fire arts of a cultivator possessing an Origin Fire were powerful enough to be called a Divine Ability.

Yet, despite these boundless benefits, cultivators of fire arts who actually possessed an Origin Fire were extremely rare. The reason was clear: igniting an Origin Fire was exceptionally difficult. There were two ways to do it: refining an already existing flame, or igniting a spark of one's own from scratch. The former was simple in concept. Since it ultimately involved transferring an existing flame to one's origin, one only needed to endure the heat of the singular flame. Naturally, this method heavily depended on the cultivator's innate constitution, particularly the strength of their soul and body. If their soul and body were not strong enough, the heat of the singular flame could severely damage their origin, making it an impossible attempt for anyone lacking confidence.

On the other hand, the latter method—igniting a spark on one's own—was far safer than the former, but also vastly more difficult. It was like an endless meditation with no guarantee of enlightenment; even if given the right time and environmental conditions, success was never assured.

Jekyeong preferred the former. His soul and body were robust to a degree that could only be described as monstrous, giving him the confidence to withstand even the most ferocious heat. If he could only obtain a suitable flame to serve as his Origin Fire, he wanted to attempt the ignition right this instant. But obtaining that suitable flame was the real problem. The various miraculous fires of the cultivation world had so many uses that they were difficult to acquire even with ample spirit stones. As the saying went, they were treasures one could not obtain without karmic affinity.

Furthermore, Jekyeong had his own specific preferences. He wanted a flame that was as featureless as possible, believing that this would make it easier to consume or swap with other flames later on. In other words, he prioritized compatibility over raw power. If others knew of his thoughts, they would have ridiculed him for worrying about running before he could even stand, but Jekyeong's mind was set. His eyes were fixed not on what was immediately in front of him, but on the distant future.

Does Yangseo Lake have any singular flames?

Jekyeong decided to look into it. Yangseo Lake was home to a Demon King, two Golden Elixir sects, and even a foreign race that looked down on them all, so singular flames were bound to exist. The problem was that even if they did exist, establishing a connection with them would be difficult...

Still, I have to try.

No door opened on its own; whether it worked or not, he had to knock first.

Bang!

With a loud explosion, the lid of the cauldron blew right off. Amidst the acrid smoke, Jekyeong frowned as he mentally retraced his steps through the alchemy process.

Was the ratio of spiritual herbs wrong? Or perhaps the amount of neutralizing agent was insufficient... The heat control seemed fine, though.

Jekyeong stared blankly at the cauldron, which was fortunate not to have shattered completely, and fell into deep thought. This exact situation repeated itself every time he tried to master a new pill recipe. Each time he felt this familiar sense of helplessness, he was reminded of his complete lack of talent in alchemy.

Though he could now barely call himself an alchemist, his skills had been built entirely on a mountain of spirit stones. Even considering that he recovered some of the costs by selling the pills he made, the amount of spirit stones he had poured into alchemy so far was more than what an average Foundation Establishment cultivator would ever touch in their entire lifetime. Yet, despite pouring in so much wealth, he was struggling to refine pills for the late stage of Qi Condensation, let alone Foundation Establishment. It was a truly monumental waste.

This wasn't entirely his fault. Jekyeong assessed his own talent in alchemy as thoroughly average. He couldn't succeed without failing first, but conversely, after experiencing a certain amount of failure, he could manage to produce a decent result. This was likely the peak achievement that the vast majority of average-talent cultivators could hope for. The real problem, however, was that the cost of each refinement attempt was exorbitant. Naturally, as the grade of the pills increased, the cost of the ingredients skyrocketed. Normally, to break even, the pill formation rate had to be at least thirty percent. Reaching that level required either a natural genius for alchemy or accumulating experience through repeated failures. But most cultivators could not afford those failures. Consequently, alchemy inevitably became the exclusive domain of those with powerful backgrounds and innate talent.

"Whew."

Cleaning the blackened cauldron, Jekyeong carefully mixed the spiritual herbs once more. With very few ingredients left, this was his final attempt.

The key is to simmer it gently over a long period. Earlier, the Chaehu Flower definitely melted too quickly, throwing off the entire mixture.

He brought his concentration to its absolute peak. Closely monitoring every factor—the heat of the cauldron, its minute vibrations, and the scent drifting from it—he visualized the state inside the cauldron. Half a day later.

Bang!

Another loud explosion echoed, and dark smoke billowed out. Jekyeong's face darkened—and not because of the soot from the cauldron.

Damn it.

Postponing even the washing of the cauldron, Jekyeong fled to Bul-mang-won as if escaping reality.

"Ah, you've arrived."

Today, as always, U Do-baek was already there. Beside him were Yeo Janggyeong and two other cultivators, both of whom were "newbies" at the early stage of Foundation Establishment who had recently joined the Mansi Assembly.

"Senior."

The two newcomers politely greeted their Yao senior, who seemed to be in a rather foul mood. Jekyeong gave them a brief nod in return and sat down to calm his mind.

"Is something the matter?"

Having known him for years, U Do-baek immediately saw through Jekyeong's irritation.

"My alchemy isn't going well. I've lost count of how many times I've burned my cauldron today."

"Haha. Isn't that just how it goes? Alchemy is so difficult, which is why so few choose to master it."

"That may be true, but it is simply too difficult. Every time I try to learn a new recipe, it feels like I am starting all over again from scratch."

"I don't know much about alchemy, but isn't that just the pain of progress?"

U Do-baek was right. If Jekyeong stopped trying to learn new recipes and simply kept refining the pills he already knew, he could earn a steady stream of spirit stones. But Jekyeong constantly pursued higher-level, unfamiliar recipes. It was no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different from leaving a cozy nest he had just grown accustomed to, only to step onto a path of thorns. It was, in essence, a self-inflicted hardship.

"I know, but it still stings nonetheless."

"It's only human nature. If it were my spirit stones burning away, I would be far worse off than you."

Since letting go of his obsession with cultivation, U Do-baek had become much more easygoing, and his words and actions reflected that change. Five or six years ago, such a joke would have been unimaginable, but now, both U Do-baek offering the joke and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jekyeong receiving it felt perfectly natural.

"Still, it couldn't have been as bad as my situation. Do not forget that I am of the Beast Race."

"Haha. If you hadn't mentioned it, I almost would have forgotten."

As they conversed in this relaxed atmosphere, Choi Ju-tang and Lee Jang-gyeong soon arrived.

"Well then, let us begin."

Jekyeong suddenly recalled the very first time he had attended a meeting of the Mansi Assembly. Back then, there had been six of them, just like now. However, in place of the two newcomers, Yoo Gyeyoon and Chae Yeonri had occupied those seats. It felt like only yesterday, yet more than ten years had already slipped by. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He was no longer the ignorant greenhorn of the past; in the eyes of these newcomers, he was now a deeply mysterious Yao senior.

"While studying the Mountain-Defending Formation recently, I gained a small insight."

After various discussions on cultivation had passed, U Do-baek broached the subject of formations.

"Most formations draw upon the power of earth veins, but the Mountain-Defending Formation does so to an even greater degree. I suppose that is because the mountains where sects or clans establish themselves are usually spiritual mountains."

U Do-baek had recently begun learning the Dao of Formations. He claimed his goal was to become a Formation Grandmaster in the time he had left and leave behind a proper formation legacy for his clan, a claim Jekyeong had dismissed as a joke. Yet, whether he was joking or not, U Do-baek's attitude toward formations was remarkably sincere. At every meeting, he would share various insights or thoughts on formations. Though his level wasn't exceptionally high, the content was quite substantial—or so Jekyeong felt.

"In the end, whether it is earth veins or water veins, they are not much different in that they borrow the spiritual energy of heaven and earth."

"Indeed. I believe the overarching concept is the same. However, the transformations that occur within them are countless, so such a generalization holds little practical meaning."

Whenever the topic of formations arose, U Do-baek and Jekyeong were the only ones who spoke. It was mostly U Do-baek lecturing while Jekyeong occasionally asked questions, but the other cultivators, who had suddenly become spectators, did not mind. Since U Do-baek and Jekyeong's knowledge of formations was not overly advanced, even laymen like them could take away something useful. Some of them even seemed to be seriously considering learning formations alongside U Do-baek. It wasn't a bad idea. Formations did not have a high barrier to entry, so as long as one had comprehension and diligence, cultivating them to a certain level was not difficult. Of course, going beyond that was a different story entirely.

"I was fortunate enough to acquire a formation legacy recently."

"Oh? What kind of legacy?"

"A few second-tier formations, including a Sealing Formation."

U Do-baek immediately showed interest. Choi Ju-tang also expressed curiosity, though he seemed more intrigued by the phrase "fortunate enough to acquire" than the actual formation legacy itself.

"Though I obtained the legacy, my level is still low, so there was not much I could fully comprehend."

Jekyeong shared his own understanding of the legacy. U Do-baek listened to Jekyeong's explanation, sometimes marveling, sometimes letting his eyes shine with excitement, and sometimes falling into contemplative silence. With U Do-baek and Jekyeong each laying out a wealth of knowledge, it became awkward for the others to remain silent. Yeo Janggyeong was the first to speak up. As a sect cultivator, he faced many restrictions and could not share much with outsiders. Thus, he chose to share his experience of breaking through the bottleneck to reach the middle stage of Foundation Establishment. While such cultivation insights were of little use to those who had already reached the middle stage, that did not mean they were valueless. For a cultivator like U Do-baek, who had juniors in his clan, these insights could be a vital asset. Ultimately, because one's cultivation path was uniquely their own, the more experiences their juniors could reference, the better.