Forging My Own Spoon
This was something the vast majority of beasts—empty-headed creatures driven by nothing but primal instinct—could never hope to achieve. But for Jekyeong, it was possible. He did not doubt for a single second that he could do it. He truly believed it, and he had brainwashed himself into believing it. After all, in any endeavor, if you do not first believe in your own success, you cannot even take a single step forward.
"..."
First, he sensed the spiritual energy drifting around him. Though it had thinned out considerably, the surrounding area was still filled with spiritual energy far richer than anywhere else. Jekyeong envisioned a sea of spiritual energy. In his mind's eye, he let his body relax completely and dove headfirst into that vast ocean.
In an instant, his physical form—composed of blood, flesh, bone, and muscle—softened, thoroughly saturated by the spiritual energy. And then, he began to absorb it. Like a sponge.
Yes. Just like a sponge.
Wuuuung!
As his senses blurred, Jekyeong heard a sound. The sound originated from his own body, yet it was not a sound that existed in the physical world. It echoed deep within the realm of his mental imagery.
Crack! Snap!
Bones twisted and shattered, only to instantly knit back together and realign. Throughout the entire process, Jekyeong felt no pain whatsoever; instead, a profound sense of refreshment washed over him. When that refreshing sensation finally subsided, he tried to open his eyes, only to suddenly realize he had never closed them in the first place.
"Ah!"
Something heavy and bloated welled up from deep within his chest, prompting him to open his mouth and exhale. As he did, he realized it was a thick, turbid stream of breath. The moment he expelled it, a tingling sensation like a jolt of electricity surged from the tip of his head all the way to the end of his tail.
"Shhhk—!"
If he possessed human vocal cords right now, this hissing sound would have been a wild, ecstatic scream of pure joy. Jekyeong had never felt anything like this in either his past life or his current one. Though he had experienced a few similar sensations in this life, they absolutely paled in comparison to what he was feeling right now.
Thud!
Striking the bottom of the pond with his tail, he propelled himself upward, bursting through the surface. Leaping out of the water like a fresh, vigorous fish, he opened his maw wide toward the countless celestial bodies shining in the night sky. In the past, the most he could have managed was a violent, rushing hiss.
"Kraaaaaah—!"
But now, things were different. A thunderous roar erupted from his wide-open maw. The roar shook the pond and its surroundings, echoing faintly into the far distance.
He had become a Yo-beast. Though he felt an immense sense of accomplishment from this fact alone, Jekyeong forced himself to calm down. Now that his head was clear, he already regretted the thunderous roar he had let out in his uncontrollable excitement. Surely other Yo-beasts or powerful entities didn't hear that, did they? Should I run away as far as possible right now? A flurry of anxious thoughts rushed through Jekyeong's mind, but he quickly tried to reassure himself that everything would be fine.
Suppressing his anxiety, Jekyeong began to examine the changes that had occurred after becoming a Yo-beast. The first thing he noticed was how light his body felt. It wasn't that he had lost weight, which meant his overall physical strength had dramatically increased. He would have to test it himself to see exactly how much stronger he had become, but it was a highly welcome change nonetheless.
Next was the change in his physical appearance—or rather, his anatomical structure. Originally, his scales had covered only about two-thirds of his body. The remaining third—his underbelly—had been bare flesh, completely exposed. Now, however, tough scales seamlessly covered his belly without a single gap. Furthermore, though he would need to test this as well, the scales covering his entire body felt significantly sturdier than before.
And next...
Doesn't seem to be anything else.
After wriggling his body around for a bit, he closed his eyes just in case, searching for any latent power that might be shyly slumbering deep within him. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he felt absolutely nothing.
Is there really nothing?
He had suspected this might be the case, but seeing his hunch confirmed in reality still brought a wave of disappointment. The cultivation of the human race was a process of learning and accumulating strength step by step. In contrast, the cultivation of Yo-beasts was fundamentally based on awakening the power dormant within their bloodline. To put it simply, it was like inheriting a fortune from one's ancestors. The more prosperous the ancestors, the greater the inheritance the descendants received. It was truly a race defined by the spoon they were born with.
However, just because an ancestor possessed a golden spoon didn't guarantee the descendant would successfully draw one. According to Yu Jeonggyeom, even if the ancestral bloodline was outstanding, how intact that bloodline remained upon inheritance and how much of its potential could actually be manifested was an entirely different story. In other words, it was a gacha system. Even so, the difference between having something to draw from and having absolutely nothing was as vast as the heavens and the earth.
Take Jekyeong's case, for instance. For a "dirt-spoon Yo-beast" who had a near-zero probability of inheriting or manifesting anything, all of that was like a story from another country—no, another world entirely.
Well... it's fine.
A dirt-spoon Yo-beast. It would be a lie to say it didn't sting, but since he had already braced himself for this reality, it was manageable. It's fine if I don't have a spoon to inherit. I'll just forge my own. Even those magnificent spoons others inherited must have had an original owner. And where did that original owner get their spoon? They forged it themselves! Just like human cultivators did.
Besides, when you think about it, it's not like I'm completely powerless.
Jekyeong looked over his massive, sturdy body. It was a body that was incredibly large and powerful—an absolute monster for his age. What other ability did he need? This physical vessel was the greatest asset he could ever boast of! Though his overall size hadn't increased, he had undergone a massive growth spurt during this second shedding. With armor-like scales now covering his entire body, surely he could proudly hold his head high as a physical-type Yo-beast.
In addition to this, there was another positive development: the gate to Bulmangwon felt significantly closer. It wouldn't happen immediately, but if he refined his spiritual awareness just a bit more, he felt he could enter Bulmangwon again even without unlocking his divine sense.
Will I be able to meet Yu Jeonggyeom again?
Probably not. Yu Jeonggyeom would likely remain busy serving as the Guide for the foreseeable future, so he wouldn't have time to spare. Even if he did have free time, he wouldn't waste it on a complete novice who had only just earned the right to enter. Jekyeong was quite self-aware. No matter how much goodwill Yu Jeonggyeom had shown, Jekyeong clearly understood that, to the Guide, he was fundamentally just one of many seeds sown for the distant future.
It might actually be better to just dive in headfirst and figure things out on my own.
Bulmangwon was a massive opportunity. According to Yu Jeonggyeom, the path of cultivation was nothing short of a thorny road. The sheer complexity of cultivation was a mountain in itself, but climbing that endless peak also meant navigating countless hidden obstacles. No matter how exceptionally talented one was, doing it alone was an impossible feat, which was why cultivators desperately sought opportunities. And what were those opportunities? They were the Four Cultivation Conditions: jae, ryeo, beop, and ji.
Jae represented wealth—material resources, which included the cultivation resources necessary for progression. Ryeo stood for companions, including Dao companions and other human assets. After all, no one could stand tall alone forever. Beop referred to cultivation methods and secret techniques. Ji signified a sanctuary—a stable environment for training. A spiritual land like his pond fell under this category.
Yu Jeonggyeom had called these four elements the pillars of a cultivator's journey, and every single word of it was true. Jekyeong himself was currently enjoying the blessings of a spiritual land, and he was already planning to search for another one. Why? Because he had tasted its sweetness. Right now, he had only fulfilled one of the four conditions, yet he was already reaping immense benefits. Therefore, Jekyeong intended to grasp the other three conditions by any means necessary.
That was precisely why he wanted to enter Bulmangwon as quickly as possible. He expected to accumulate the second condition, ryeo—human assets—in that place. In a way, it was already half-accomplished. Yu Jeonggyeom had taught him not only about the world of cultivation but also general knowledge of this world, and those teachings had been of immense help.
Of course, Jekyeong didn't expect the other "fellow beasts" in Bulmangwon to be as kind as Yu Jeonggyeom. They wouldn't be gentle, benevolent mentors like the Guide, but if he attempted to network with them, wouldn't he be able to gain something from the interactions? Besides, Jekyeong had a card up his sleeve. Yu Jeonggyeom had recognized his mental stability and shown him favor. Wouldn't others react similarly? Surely there would be at least a few like-minded individuals. Moreover, when he first met Yu Jeonggyeom, he had been a mere beast with high potential. Now, he was a proud Yo-beast. Though he was dirt-poor without even a single wooden spoon to his name, a Yo-beast was still a Yo-beast.
Jekyeong had no intention of putting on grandiose airs, but he also had no intention of hiding his worth or letting go of benefits he could rightfully claim.
The next day.
As always, Cheongo flew toward the pond with cheerful flaps of its wings, calling out to Jekyeong in a loud voice.
Splash!
A moment later, the entire pond rippled before the surface violently churned. Then, a massive serpentine head emerged.
"Huh?!"
Cheongo, expecting a familiar face, widened its eyes in shock.
"You...!"
Two prominent bumps on the otherwise familiar serpentine head caught its attention, but it wasn't the physical alteration that startled Cheongo. The bird stared wide-eyed because of the overwhelming aura of pressure radiating from Jekyeong the moment he appeared. This pressure did not stem from simple fear. It was the instinctual oppression a living being felt when confronting a higher-order existence.
Cheongo was no stranger to this kind of pressure. The little bird had seen Yo-beasts from afar, and had once stood by the side of the great Seonin, listening to his teachings directly. That was why it knew.
"Jekyeong. You..."
"Yes."
"How?"
"I ate a lot, and I slept a lot. Just as you know."
Ate a lot and slept a lot? Cheongo was, of course, well-acquainted with its giant business partner's daily routine. It had personally witnessed how much he ate, and knew he constantly slept in this wonderful place. But even so... wasn't this far too fast? Cheongo had believed Jekyeong would become a Yo-beast eventually, and guessed that "eventually" wouldn't be too far off, but it never expected it to happen this quickly.
"Amazing!"
This was its honest impression.
"Congratulations!"
This was the word its newly sharpened mind conjured.
"Thank you. I owe it to you."
"To me?"
Cheongo tilted its head.