Relocation and the Gathering Storm
Jekyeong contemplated his spiritual nature. Within his mindscape, the burning sky and earth felt more vivid than ever before.
‘My monster power has grown denser.’ Jekyeong was certain that even a Great Yao in the late stage of the Great Yao realm—or perhaps even one on the verge of the Yao King realm—would not possess a foundation as solid as his.
‘With enough time, or perhaps just a high-quality spiritual elixir, I could ascend to the late stage of the Great Yao realm in a single bound.’
An incredibly heavy surge of monster power bloomed before his eyes like a flickering flame. Jekyeong quietly admired the beautiful ember for a long moment—until Cheongo, growing bored, fluttered down onto his head and began throwing a tantrum, demanding extra "hazard pay" for the past few days.
"I want to live somewhere else."
The commotion Jekyeong had unintentionally caused had led to an unexpected consequence: Muk-su had declared a relocation. Muk-su had already been grumbling lately about the increasingly hot climate of Heukgyodo, and this latest incident had pushed the sentient tree over the edge.
"..."
Jekyeong remained silent, looking back and forth between the slightly tilted peak and Muk-su's branches, which were shaking violently in protest. Making half-hearted excuses would only backfire, so keeping his mouth shut was the wisest course of action.
‘But it doesn't seem like a simple complaint this time.’
In truth, the slight tilt of the peak where Muk-su had taken root was not the real issue. The real problem was Heukgyodo's climate—or more precisely, Jekyeong's cultivation itself. As a practitioner of fire arts, he naturally drew in vast amounts of fire energy whenever he circulated his technique. As his cultivation deepened, this fire energy only grew more intense. It was an inevitable, natural phenomenon.
"I can't live here anymore."
Muk-su seemed to have made up its mind. Jekyeong, who had been planning to use his silver tongue to smooth things over, looked at the still-thrashing branches and abandoned the idea. He placed the newly harvested spiritual fruits into his storage bag and nodded.
"Fine. I understand."
Only then did Muk-su's frantically shaking branches come to a sudden halt.
"But... how do you plan on moving?" Jekyeong asked, scanning Muk-su's colossal form.
"Like last time."
"Last time?"
Before Jekyeong could even press further, Muk-su's body began to wither. Or rather, it was more accurate to say that its life force was draining away. The vital energy receded from the massive trunk, the sprawling roots, and the reaching branches. All of it flowed deep down into the earth, gathering into Muk-su's Yao Core. Muk-su was reclaiming the life force spread throughout its massive body and condensing it back into its core.
Ssshh—
The lifeless trunk, roots, and branches crumbled into fine dust. Amidst the heap of ash, Jekyeong spotted a fist-sized seed radiating a powerful, vibrant life force. Seeing this, he instantly understood what Muk-su meant by "like last time."
‘When did this fellow acquire such an ability? Or was it always capable of this?’
Jekyeong carefully picked up the Yao Core. He then began to ponder which island would be most suitable for Muk-su.
It couldn't be too far. If it were, it would be difficult to respond if something happened to Muk-su, and fetching the spiritual fruits would become a chore.
But it couldn't be too close either. If it were, Muk-su would just throw another tantrum and demand to move again once Jekyeong's cultivation deepened further and exerted an even greater influence on the local climate.
‘This is tricky.’
Jekyeong mentally reviewed the islands near Heukgyodo, as well as those slightly further away. He needed a place with a reasonable distance, a spacious size, and...
‘Preferably somewhere in the rear, out of sight.’
It had to be a place hidden from the eyes of both the human race and other Great Demons. Muk-su's abilities were practically a treasure, but its combat capabilities were sorely lacking. Aside from simple thrashing with its vines and roots, its only real defense was dispersing a poisonous mist. While such a skill was decent for dealing with crowds of weak foes, it was virtually useless against opponents of its own level. To Foundation Establishment cultivators and Great Demons, Muk-su was nothing more than a walking mountain of treasure.
‘Yes, that place will do.’
After much deliberation, Jekyeong recalled an island located a day's journey south of Heukgyodo. It met every single one of his criteria. If his memory served him right, there were human refugees who had fled the war living there, but that was hardly an obstacle.
"You want me to relocate the humans on that island, my Lord?"
"Yes. Have the island cleared within two days."
"Understood."
Hyeongu bowed and hurriedly withdrew.
‘Two days! The Dragon Lord is testing my capabilities once again!’
Hyeongu climbed onto his son's back and rushed southward. The moment they arrived at the island, he began badgering the humans to leave.
"Hurry up! All of you must vacate this place within half a day!"
It was sorrowful enough to have been driven from their homelands by the war, but to be forced out again just as they were beginning to settle into their new homes filled the humans with boiling resentment. However, when they saw the other turtle Yokai looming behind the pompous speaker—a house-sized monstrosity—the anger that had flared up to the crown of their heads instantly turned ice-cold.
"Let's go. There's no telling what will happen to us if we linger."
The humans hurriedly packed their belongings and boarded their boats. An island that had housed thousands of humans was completely emptied in a mere half-day.
The following day, Jekyeong planted Muk-su's Yao Core in the center of the deserted island. He then tossed several corpses of Qi Condensation cultivators onto it.
Thud! Crackle!
A mixture of life force and monster power surged from the Yao Core. The corpses withered to husks in an instant, and a single sapling sprouted upward. Moments later, a colossal tree of a size similar to the one that had stood in the center of Heukgyodo revealed itself on the empty island.
"This place is nice. Cool and refreshing. And quiet, too."
Muk-su's voice sounded light. After being stuck on an island that was always muggy and occasionally scorching, taking root on such a cool, tranquil island made it feel as though it were flying. Of course, Muk-su had no actual concept of what flying felt like. It was simply that Cheongo had prattled on so much about how wonderful flying was that Muk-su had vaguely equated "an incredibly wonderful feeling" with the sensation of flight.
Wars in the cultivation world could end in the blink of an eye, but they could also drag on for decades. In extreme cases, they could even last for centuries, a phenomenon born from the unique nature of cultivators. As a cultivator reached higher realms, their lifespan increased exponentially, and their perception of time shifted accordingly. It was not for nothing that people said years or decades could pass in a flash when an esteemed master entered secluded meditation. This distorted sense of time naturally bled into their warfare. Since it was ultimately the high-level cultivators who directed the conflicts, their wars often unfolded in ways that Qi Condensation cultivators could scarcely comprehend.
The war in Yangseo Lake was relatively tame by comparison. Though it had already dragged on for over a decade, its progression remained fairly logical. The human race maintained a strictly defensive posture, garrisoned within various immortal cities and fortresses, while the Beast race launched endless assaults to breach their defensive lines. Even after the Heumwon Clan and the Gakchung Clan joined the fray, this general dynamic remained unchanged. Amidst the ongoing war of attrition, the peak powerhouses of both sides occasionally clashed, but most of these encounters ended inconclusively without either side suffering major losses. Watching them retreat after merely confirming each other's strength made the battles look like probing skirmishes, or perhaps a carefully choreographed play.
The low-level cultivators of both the human and Beast races who bled and died on the front lines might have resented the leisurely pace of their superiors, but Jekyeong, watching from a safe distance and even enjoying a minor wartime economic boom, found the caution of these high-ranking figures highly agreeable. He truly felt there was much to learn from them. This was how a cultivator ought to behave. Their lives were not merely those of single living beings; they carried the weight of hundreds or thousands of years of bitter cultivation. Thus, their actions had to be as heavy and deliberate as mountains. They must never leap to conclusions, and they must never move without absolute certainty.
Why should they care about the cultivators dying every day? To existence-level entities like Great Yao who lived for thousands of years, the vast majority of the Beast race—who could barely survive for a few decades, especially those who had not even awakened their spiritual intelligence—were mere insects, tools to be spent at whim. The humans, with their shorter lifespans and tendency to live in massive, tightly-knit communities, might be slightly less extreme in this regard, but the core reality was much the same. Though their races differed, they were all cultivators in the end.
‘Though the Gakchung Clan might be a different story.’
A swarm of the Gakchung Clan possessed a single Insect Mother, and every member of the swarm was her offspring. They united absolutely around her, never hesitating to plunge into a pit of fire at her command. The reason both the humans and the Beast race of Yangseo Lake dreaded the Gakchung Clan was not just their raw power, but also this terrifying, absolute solidarity.
‘The Insect King is highly active, yet the Insect Mother hasn't shown so much as a hair. Is she truly unable to leave the Red Province, just as the rumors say?’
Whispers that the Insect Mother could not leave the Red Province had circulated quietly for a long time. However, because the Gakchung Clan itself had previously been regarded as a sort of legend, no one had taken those rumors seriously. But as the war intensified and the Gakchung Clan entered the conflict in earnest—especially with the Insect King, their second-in-command, appearing on the front lines—this dusty old rumor began to resurface.
When Jekyeong first heard the rumor, he had dismissed it as the idle gossip of some brainless fool with too much time on their hands. The Gakchung Clan's Insect Mother was a powerhouse at the late Golden Core stage, a mere step away from becoming a Nascent Soul True Lord. What could possibly hinder or bind such a supreme expert? To say that such a powerhouse could not leave her nest was utterly preposterous.
Yet, even after the Insect King fell into a trap laid by the Heumwon Clan and suffered heavy losses, the Insect Mother remained unseen. From that point on, Jekyeong's skepticism began to waver. Could that ridiculous rumor actually be true? Is she truly unable to leave her nest in the Red Province? As the war dragged on, his doubts only grew.
By now, while he still didn't know if she was physically incapable of leaving the Red Province, he had at least come to believe that she had absolutely no intention of doing so. Jekyeong was not alone in this belief. The majority of the Beast race, and even the humans, shared the same sentiment. Unless the Beast race invaded the Red Province directly, they would never see the Insect Mother's face in this war.
But not long after, their complacent assumptions were shattered.
The two elders of the Heumwon Clan and the Insect King clashed once again in the skies above Sangso Island, one of the major human cities. Yet, just as they were sizing each other up as usual, a Demon King of the mid-Yao King realm suddenly made an appearance.
It was not the Jansu Whale King. It was the patriarch of the Heumwon Clan.
A Demon King who should have been far away in Muryangae had quietly arrived in Yangseo Lake without anyone's knowledge.
Suddenly faced with a combined assault from three Demon Kings, the Insect King was instantly plunged into a life-or-death crisis. Yet, instead of fleeing, he gritted his teeth and fought back. Just as the three Demon Kings of the Heumwon Clan felt a wave of confusion and unease at his resolute defiance, a colossal tempest capable of overturning heaven and earth swept through the skies.
The overwhelming wind pressure was so immense that even the Demon Kings were forced to retreat. Only the Heumwon patriarch, a mid-Yao King realm powerhouse, managed to hold his ground, his sharp gaze piercing through the center of the storm.
"Insect Mother!"
Soon, the winds dispersed, revealing the figure within.
The five horns of varying sizes rising from her head resembled a crown, and her dull, lifeless compound eyes exuded an inexplicable, chilling dread. It was impossible to tell exactly where her gaze was directed, yet anyone who looked into those eyes felt a piercing sensation, as if their very souls were being laid bare.
"Return. This is no place for your kind."
At the Insect Mother's calm words, the Heumwon patriarch bared his fangs in a savage snarl. "Arrogant, just as the rumors say. But we shall decide where we belong."
Their exchange was brief, for their respective stances were already crystal clear. Since neither side had any intention of backing down, the only path left was to follow the law of the cultivation world.