A Desperate Gamble
To that question, Jekyeong glared with bloodshot eyes and roared, shouting that it was absolutely not true, that it was utter bullshit.
"Is that so? Then what is it you desire? What did you expect when you came here?"
Jekyeong did not answer. He poured every ounce of strength he would have used to reply into shattering the shackles binding him.
Whoosh! His vision flipped. As if a scene were transitioning in a play, a completely different world unfolded before him.
"Keuhuk!" Jekyeong gasped, sucking in the air that had been choked out of him, and rolled his eyes. Before him lay an endlessly stretching horizon. The sky shimmered hazily, and the ground writhed ceaselessly.
Gulp! It was the sound of something swallowing—or rather, attempting to swallow. Jekyeong felt a sudden, bone-chilling cold, as if he had been plunged into an icy cavern, and cast his gaze downward.
A mouth. A colossal mouth gaped beneath him. The vast land he had just seen was merely a part of this maw. It was stretched wide, dripping disgusting, viscous drool as if waiting for prey to fall from above.
If there had been no barrier blocking that colossal—no, boundless—maw, Jekyeong would have plunged straight into its depths.
'This is... an illusion. It's not real!' Jekyeong immediately tried to convince himself. Never in his two lives had his mind raced so furiously. He mobilized every shred of logic he possessed to construct a rational explanation.
'I am inside a Secret Realm. But a Secret Realm is not a pocket dimension. No, even if it were, something like this is absolutely impossible!'
Jekyeong had previously heard the seniors of Bul-mang-won discuss the concepts of Secret Realms, Grotto-heavens, and pocket dimensions. Setting aside the first two, even a pocket dimension was merely a single room attached to the grand mansion that was the Changram Realm. Therefore, no matter how many walls were erected or doors were locked to create an independent space, it remained, at its core, a part of the Changram Realm.
'This makes no sense. A mere Secret Realm could never contain such an existence.' Although the logic Jekyeong had cobbled together was riddled with flaws, it was enough to convince his panicked mind. He decided this situation was utterly absurd, concluding that it had to be an illusion or some kind of trick.
The moment he anchored his mind to that belief—Thud! Jekyeong collapsed, losing consciousness.
Before his fallen form stood a dilapidated structure, and atop its roof, two cultivators stood in a tense standoff. Even as Jekyeong—whose massive body was comparable in size to the very building they stood upon—collapsed, causing the structure to shudder violently as if on the verge of ruin, the two did not break their gaze.
"Fellow Daoist. I had faith. I knew someone like you wouldn't perish so easily," Myeong-ha said, looking at the cultivator opposite him, Gwak Yeon.
"But to think you would arrive even faster than I did. And... to end up in such a state." Though his murmur sounded pitying, there was not a speck of genuine compassion in his voice. Myeong-ha's gaze was locked onto the bead embedded in the center of Gwak Yeon's forehead—a sphere webbed with countless thick and thin cracks, looking as though it might crumble into dust at any moment.
"There is no need to be so tense," Gwak Yeon said. Her voice was calm, her tone perfectly rational. Judging by her serene expression and her steady, unwavering posture, she did not seem like a cultivator with a grotesque object wedged into her skull.
'A monstrosity. Yes. A monstrosity, but also a treasure.' Myeong-ha recognized at a single glance what the bead in the center of her forehead was. It was impossible to mistake. Though it looked completely shattered—or rather, clumsily pieced back together after being broken—it radiated a faint yet overwhelmingly oppressive power.
'A Demon Core?' He could sense a faint trace of demonic energy, so weak it seemed on the verge of vanishing entirely. Yet, even in the presence of this mere echo of power, Myeong-ha did not dare lower his guard. This was the disparity in existence—the gap in power, and the fundamental difference in the quality of life.
Cultivators often threw around the word "ants." A Foundation Establishment cultivator would look down on anyone below their realm as an insect, and a Core Formation master would view all beneath them in the same light. This was not mere arrogance or self-delusion; to their eyes, those of lower realms truly appeared as nothing more than insignificant bugs.
Of course, even if Gwak Yeon had salvaged the shattered core and absorbed a portion of it, she had not truly attained power equal to a Core Formation master. If such a shortcut were possible, why would so many prominent sects collapse the moment they lost their Core Formation ancestors? If it were that simple, a dying Core Formation cultivator would merely need to pass their core down to their successor.
The Core Formation realm was not a stage one could reach so easily. Furthermore, what Gwak Yeon had salvaged was a damaged core that had lost its master thousands of years ago, and she had not even fully refined it. Had she completed the refinement, she would not be displaying it so conspicuously on her forehead.
'The power she can actually wield is a mere fraction of the whole. The rest... is likely nothing more than borrowed authority.' In essence, she was a fox donning a tiger's skin. The problem, however, was that even this borrowed authority was enough to freeze Myeong-ha's body and mind in sheer terror.
'Jegu... it seems he was no ordinary Demon King. Then again, how could a devout worshipper of Taotie be ordinary?' Myeong-ha swallowed hard, carefully reading Gwak Yeon's expression. Though her eyes were fixed on him, her mind seemed to be drifting elsewhere.
"As I said, there is no need to be so tense. I have no intention of harming you."
"Honestly, that is hard to believe."
"But it is the truth."
"If so, you must have left out a crucial caveat. Something like... 'for the time being.'"
Gwak Yeon fell silent. At that moment, the slight haze in her eyes cleared, and her focus snapped back.
"I have felt this before, but you are truly a clever man, Fellow Daoist."
"Haha. What a pity. At any other time, I would be flattered, but right now... your praise does not sound like praise at all. Is it because my mind is playing tricks on me?"
"You know that is not the case."
"Indeed. And that is exactly why I cannot let my guard down."
Gwak Yeon was waiting for something. To put it another way, the moment her waiting ended would be the moment his life was forfeit. Once his thoughts reached this conclusion, Myeong-ha found it impossible to relax. He had no way of knowing when her patience would run out.
"Very well. It seems we have a bit of time on our hands, so why don't we have a chat to keep ourselves entertained?"
"A chat?" A peculiar gleam flickered in Gwak Yeon's otherwise dull eyes.
"It is not as if anything will change either way, is it? From the moment you obtained that, it seems your path was already decided," Myeong-ha said, pointing to her forehead.
"...Very well. What is it you wish to know?"
"I am naturally curious about how you came to this point. Of course, I do not expect you to share it for free. Ah, yes. I heard something about your Dao companion. Are you not curious?"
"I am not," Gwak Yeon replied coldly. "We went our separate ways, and we must each bear the consequences of our own choices." A brief flash of anger flared in her otherwise placid eyes. Myeong-ha could easily picture the bitter history that must have transpired between the two.
"He is dead. And he met a rather miserable end."
"How fortunate." Gwak Yeon's voice was so icy that Myeong-ha felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine.
"...Fellow Daoist Jekyeong mentioned that the man was already half-mad when they first crossed paths. He kept babbling about how you had sacrificed yourself for him, but looking at you now, it seems that was far from the truth."
"As I said, we simply went our separate ways. More importantly... Fellow Daoist Jekyeong does not seem to be in a very good state."
"Indeed. But surely you would know the reason better than anyone?" Myeong-ha locked eyes with Gwak Yeon, his gaze heavy with meaning.
"You seem to know quite a lot."
"I have only made deductions. Since we have reached this point, why not speak frankly? Have you already offered your prayers to Taotie?" At that single question, the light in Gwak Yeon's eyes shifted, and the very atmosphere grew heavy. A chilling demonic energy began to press down from all sides.
"...Not yet, but it will be soon."
"So that is what you are waiting for. It seems you know quite a bit about Taotie, Fellow Daoist?"
"I knew some, and I have learned the rest." Myeong-ha's gaze drifted back to the shattered core embedded in her forehead.
"Your suspicions are correct. A faint remnant of Jegu's consciousness lingered within this shattered core. It revealed everything to me—about him, and about what transpired in this place."
"Do you realize what a dangerous gamble you are playing?"
"I had no choice. If forced to choose between certain death and an uncertain gamble, would you not have chosen the latter as well, Fellow Daoist?"
Gwak Yeon's eyes grew hazy once more. Though Myeong-ha remained oblivious, her Divine Sense was expanding outward at that very moment, sweeping across the entire Secret Realm. She detected dozens of human cultivators gathered not far from their location. Many of them were in poor condition, but as long as they were not actively hindered, they would have no trouble reaching this place.
Having finished her calculations, Gwak Yeon turned her gaze back to Myeong-ha. He had still not answered her question.
"When I first arrived, Jegu's residual consciousness still possessed some power. It was a pathetic fraction of what he wielded in life, but it was more than enough to invade my mind while I was utterly exhausted. In such a state, what choice did I truly have?"
"So... that was your gamble? Instead of letting the corruption consume you, you chose to actively assimilate with it? All to buy yourself some time."
"Was there any better alternative?"
"No. Even in my estimation, that was likely your best option."
Invasion was like a thief forcing his way into a locked house. If one had the strength to repel the intruder, locking the doors and holding the line was the obvious choice. But if defeat was inevitable, keeping the doors barred would only invite a more violent end. Thus, Gwak Yeon had chosen to fling the doors wide open, voluntarily inviting the thief inside. A thief who had to break down the door would be agitated and destructive, whereas one welcomed through an open entrance might behave with a modicum of restraint.
Ultimately, the end result would be the same, but the latter path offered a sliver of hope—the chance to buy just a little more time in relative safety.
"I see. And how many sacrifices do you intend to offer?"
"Every single one of them."
"Could you not spare me? It seems quite a few others have entered the realm behind us."
Gwak Yeon shook her head. "I cannot. If you truly understand the nature of Taotie, you must understand why."
To Taotie, the concept of "enough" did not exist. He was the very incarnation of greed, the master of an insatiable, endless hunger. Myeong-ha was well aware of this, which was why he understood her reasoning. But understanding her did not mean he was willing to accept his fate.
"Fellow Daoist. Taotie may be a demon god, but he is also known as a Malevolent God. Are you aware of this?"
"Of course I am. But why do you bring that up now?"
"No reason," Myeong-ha said, chuckling as he shook his head. "I merely asked in case you were unaware. Since you know, then it is fine. Think nothing of it."
Jekyeong forced his body, which felt as heavy as a mountain, to stir. As his blurred vision gradually cleared, his surroundings came into focus. It seemed he had lost consciousness with his eyes wide open.
'What is that?' Unlike his eyes, which still felt shrouded in a thick fog, his hearing was relatively intact. He could make out a clamor echoing from a short distance away. Had it not been for that noise, it would have taken him much longer to regain his senses.