A Sudden Awakening
Just the fact that a Foundation Establishment cultivator was willing to endure such tedious trouble proved that Choi Ju-tang was unlike any ordinary cultivator of his realm.
"Think nothing of it. To be frank, I did not do this for you, Fellow Daoist Gwak, but for myself. I simply wished to wash away my disgrace."
Yesterday, Gwak Jeong-sin had declared that they would use this island as a base to continue the subjugation of the Black Flood Dragon. Some agreed, while others opposed. Even though Gwak Jeong-sin was their employer, he could not force those who resisted, so he had to do his utmost to persuade them. In the midst of this, Choi Ju-tang had lent him immense support by agreeing with the plan and advocating the theory that the Black Flood Dragon was heavily wounded.
"In truth... there is no real disgrace to speak of. You know how it was."
On that day, three Foundation Establishment cultivators, excluding Jo Mu-hak, had been left behind. All of them had fallen under the influence of that bizarre, sinister spell.
"No," Choi Ju-tang said, shaking his head with a heavy expression. "Since I cannot accept it myself, no words of comfort will do. If it were up to me, I would charge straight into Heukgyodo this very instant."
"Do not be too disheartened. And as for your brothers..."
"They, too, were cultivators. They chose to join this battle of their own free will, so there is no reason to grieve. However, if the opportunity arises... I intend to repay this grudge."
Gwak Jeong-sin nodded silently, watching Choi Ju-tang speak with such calm resolve.
Inside Bul-mang-won.
"How are my brothers?"
"They are doing well. You can hear the details from them yourself later, Senior," Jekyeong replied, brushing the question aside.
Choi Ju-tang's brothers had been dragged to Heukgyodo and were currently subjected to Cheongo's hypnosis. Since Cheongo insisted they were having sweet dreams, Jekyeong wasn't technically lying when he said they were doing well.
"Thank you for looking after them."
"Think nothing of it."
Jekyeong found Choi Ju-tang to be an enigmatic man. He was undoubtedly a shrewd, weathered Rogue Cultivator, yet seeing him care so deeply for those useless brothers of his suggested he possessed an unexpectedly warm heart.
Well, humans are multifaceted creatures.
No matter how many miraculous feats they could perform, cultivators were ultimately still human.
"Gwak Jeong-sin does not want to return like this. To be precise, he cannot," Choi Ju-tang said. "He knows better than anyone what awaits him if he goes back after such a disastrous failure."
"It must be troublesome, but please continue to bolster his courage, Senior."
"I am already doing so. That is why you need to send more Water Beasts."
"That is impossible now. The Water Beasts in my territory are practically on the verge of extinction."
This was no exaggeration. A few days ago, when Hyeongu and the other subordinates returned from thoroughly scouting the waters and unanimously reported that they could no longer find any Water Beasts to mobilize, Jekyeong had been slightly taken aback. However, he quickly realized it made sense. The number of Water Beasts he had mobilized and sent to their deaths was staggering. Given that the Heukgyo Water Territory originally did not have a massive population of Water Beasts, it was only natural that they had run dry.
"Mmm." Choi Ju-tang groaned, recalling the piles of Water Beast corpses that had once packed the docks. Come to think of it, even as a battle-hardened veteran, he had rarely seen so many beast carcasses in one place. In the Human Territory, encounters with the Beast Race were rare, and even when they occurred, they were usually stray wanderers or naturally born monsters.
"Then how about you show your face once?"
"I do not think that is a good idea. What if those who have barely managed to steel their resolve get frightened all over again?"
Choi Ju-tang let out a dry chuckle at Jekyeong's arrogance, but he quickly conceded. It was no joke; that might actually happen. The only reason the humans were still holding out on that small island—aside from the promise of higher pay and reinforcements from Gwak Jeong-sin—was the theory Choi Ju-tang had pushed: that the Black Flood Dragon was critically wounded. If the Black Flood Dragon, who was supposed to be clinging to life, suddenly appeared perfectly healthy...
"Better forget I mentioned it," Choi Ju-tang said, giving up on the idea cleanly.
"What is the status of those reinforcements?"
"Who knows. Personally, I believe Gwak Jeong-sin fabricated that claim on the spot to appease them."
"Are you saying they won't come?"
"No, they will come eventually. We just do not know when or how many."
This was a satisfactory answer. It meant that as long as the current situation persisted, the humans would not retreat, at least until those reinforcements arrived.
Somehow, it feels like I am only doing others a favor.
His relief was short-lived as a sudden sense of grievance washed over him. Looking back, Jekyeong realized he had gained almost nothing since this war began. Of course, refining the Sacred Fire and clarifying his Dao Heart during the previous battle were significant achievements, but those were products of chance—harvests he would have eventually reaped even without this war. Compared to the cost of sacrificing tens of thousands of Water Beasts and losing one of his horns, his gains were undeniably meager.
Since he had originally entered this war to protect his business in the Heukgyo Water Territory, calculating profit and loss like this was somewhat foolish. Yet, seeing Myeong-ha reap all the benefits right beside him naturally bred other thoughts. Ever since the war began, Myeong-ha had been like a fish in water. In the previous battle alone, he had acquired three Foundation Establishment Lost-Soul Puppets, and he was undoubtedly raking in substantial profits through the Rogue Cultivators currently plundering the Human Territory. Since his gains would only multiply the longer the war dragged on, Myeong-ha could easily be considered the sole victor of this conflict.
As his thoughts deepened, Jekyeong's envy and jealousy toward Myeong-ha grew. At the same time, a nagging feeling that something was amiss began to take root.
Is it just my imagination? Or did I actually make a mistake somewhere?
In the past, such thoughts would have remained mere passing doubts. But now, Jekyeong felt a strange, sharp intuition. It was like a small spark of enlightenment, forcing him to question himself and delve deeper. Jekyeong did not ignore this perception. He immediately began to retrace his steps from the very beginning.
It must have started when I went to Jimagwon. But that action wasn't wrong. I moved only after careful consideration, and the outcome wasn't bad. The subsequent disaster was unexpected, but it merely hastened a war that was bound to happen anyway.
Next was instigating the Great Yo-beasts to raid the human transport ships. At the time, he had viewed it as a lucrative opportunity and hadn't hesitated. But thinking back on it now...
Why did I do that?
He had certainly profited, and the incident had further engraved his name into the minds of the Great Yo-beasts. But were those things truly necessary for him at the time? A few Spirit Stones? The recognition of the Great Yo-beasts? Those were trivial matters he could have easily done without. Gwak Jeong-sin had used that raid as a pretext to invade. Of course, Gwak would have found another excuse even without it, but if Jekyeong hadn't taken such a reckless risk, he might have bought himself a little more time.
In truth, all these assumptions might be trivial. Gaining a few more days might not have changed much in the grand scheme of things. However, what Jekyeong found deeply alarming was not these minor details. The real issue was the profound sense of dissonance—the strange, unnatural feeling he got when reviewing the decisions and choices he had made back then.
Jekyeong considered himself to be exceptionally cautious, even when compared to other cultivators of both the Human and Beast Races. Even when greed tempted him, he always prioritized safety, and he avoided taking action if there was any risk, even for things he was fully capable of doing. Some might mock his temperament as cowardly, but Jekyeong believed it was precisely this caution that had allowed a mere tiny serpent to rise to his current position.
It is bizarre. That incident... is something the usual me would never have done. It is something I should not have done.
Jekyeong meticulously reviewed every single battle since Gwak Jeong-sin and the humans entered the Heukgyo Water Territory, checking for any anomalies. He questioned whether he had made errors in judgment, or if he had been excessively bellicose during the fights.
I cannot tell.
Once one thing became suspicious, everything else followed suit. Jekyeong was certain that something was wrong, but he could not pinpoint exactly what it was. However, he did have a strong suspicion about where it had all started.
Myeong-ha.
Jekyeong had known Myeong-ha was a Qi-destined Child, and he had agreed to cooperate with him to piggyback on his fortune for profit. At the same time, he had exercised extreme caution to avoid becoming a sacrificial lamb swept away by Myeong-ha's aura. Yet, looking at it now, he had already been swept up in the tide of destiny without even realizing it. This war was a play, Myeong-ha was the protagonist, and Jekyeong was merely a supporting character meant to make the protagonist shine.
No, that is not true.
Deep within the Black Cult Palace, Jekyeong shook his massive head violently, rejecting the thoughts filling his mind.
Even if that is the case, I have now become aware of it. I am by no means a mindless extra to be swept away without knowing why.
Once he realized he was standing on the stage, he could walk off it and escape the play at any moment. Jekyeong steadied his wavering mind with that thought.
Indeed. If worst comes to worst, I can simply abandon everything and leave.
He tried to soothe himself by thinking as rationally as possible, but the deep-seated fear in his heart refused to dissipate easily. In this moment, he finally understood the true nature of aura and destiny, but this comprehension brought him an indescribable dread rather than a sense of achievement.
After becoming certain that he had been manipulated by Myeong-ha's aura, Jekyeong became exceedingly cautious. Confining himself to the Black Cult Palace, he pondered endlessly over whether he had made other mistakes. Yet, no matter how much he agonized, no answers came. Jekyeong could not trust himself—specifically, his past self. He could not be sure if the decisions he had made since meeting Myeong-ha were influenced by the latter's aura or not.
But... is there any point in agonizing over this now?
He cooled his endlessly tangled head and calmed his heavy heart. Since he could not undo what had already been done, he decided to judge based solely on the present. Currently, his connections to Myeong-ha were limited to the ongoing war and the affairs of Haeyeon Island. Both were beneficial to him. Even if Myeong-ha reaped greater profits than he did, Jekyeong was still not suffering a loss. Haeyeon Island was a given, and the same applied to the war. Just as in the previous battles, he would still need Myeong-ha's assistance in the fights to come.
Yes. There is no need to be blindly afraid. If the guidance of aura is indeed a kind of flow, as long as I keep my wits about me, I can break free from it whenever I wish.
The problem was that doing so was far from easy. Jekyeong himself was proof of that. If he hadn't focused on that faint intuition a few days ago, he would still be acting as a puppet of destiny even now.
Aura. Is it really aura?
Jekyeong did not believe it was a mere coincidence that he had suddenly awakened after dancing to the tune of destiny for so long. He had a hunch. He knew that his own aura had grown significantly after unsealing the Sacred Fire in Jimagwon. On top of that, his aura had surged once more right after gaining insights into the Path of the Fire Dragon and the Dao of Fire during the recent battle. Now, his aura was easily five to six times stronger than it had been before he went to Jimagwon.
Did the massive growth of my own aura allow me to resist Myeong-ha's influence? If so, does that mean those with powerful auras exert less influence on each other, or perhaps none at all?
Though it was a speculation built on a single, flimsy piece of evidence, the more Jekyeong thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Or rather, he desperately wanted to believe it.
I must investigate this concept of aura further.
Most cultivators were aware of the existence of "aura," but they rarely paid any attention to it. After all, the concept of aura was highly uncertain and ambiguous, and above all, it offered no practical benefit. While it could be used as a rough gauge of an opponent's strength, it was far from reliable, especially if the opponent utilized a Presence-Concealing Technique, which could easily catch one off guard. Thus, cultivators viewed aura as mere clothing. If a person became noble, they would naturally wear fine clothes, but wearing fine clothes did not make one noble. In this context, "nobility" referred to one's cultivation realm.
Jekyeong had also largely agreed with that perspective until now, which was why he had never bothered to look deeper into the matter. However, his thoughts had completely changed after this intense experience. He resolved to thoroughly investigate the nature of aura. An ordinary Rogue Cultivator would have lacked the means to do so even if they wished to, but fortunately, Jekyeong had a reliable source to turn to.
Inside Bul-mang-won.
While nursing his wounds in the Black Cult Palace, Jekyeong consistently visited Bul-mang-won, searching for knowledgeable seniors. He had never paid attention to it before, but as he wandered around this time, he noticed that there were quite a few others like him, seeking guidance from their seniors.