A Glimpse of Boundless Freedom
Jekyeong did not waste words. He briefly summarized what he had experienced and his current predicament. Throughout his explanation, Yu Gon remained silent, listening without offering any immediate reaction.
"Seven thousand years ago... a worshipper of Taotie. The world is indeed vast. There is no shortage of absolute madmen out there."
"Senior. My current situation is..."
"I understand your situation well enough. It is nothing complicated. You have simply been overwhelmed and suppressed by the residual aura of a Demon God. You will recover with time."
"I am grateful for your wisdom, Senior, but the problem is that time is the one thing I lack right now."
Yu Gon's spiritual body fluctuated slightly. The gaze sweeping over Jekyeong's spiritual form was filled with deep disapproval.
"Tsk! Foolish boy. How did you get yourself tangled up with something like Taotie? Do you not know that those who recklessly seek out danger rarely live out their natural lifespans?"
"Of course I know. But how can one hope to achieve the Dao by simply submitting to fate?"
Jekyeong had no intention of arguing with Yu Gon over this. In any case, they could never truly understand each other. Unlike Yu Gon, who had held a noble destiny in his hands from the moment he was born into this world, Jekyeong had started as a mere snake. If he had simply submitted to his given fate, how could he be standing here, conversing with Yu Gon today?
Yu Gon knew this as well. Thus, he merely gave Jekyeong a disgruntled glare and did not press the matter further.
"Demon Gods are not simple existences. Though they may differ slightly from what you conceive of as gods, their power is more than worthy of the title. Especially an entity like Taotie..."
Despite his words, Yu Gon did not seem to hold the Demon Gods in particularly high regard. More precisely, he showed no sign of reverence or fear toward them.
"Is there a way?"
"You sly snake. You came to me precisely because you believed I would have a way, did you not?"
"I did."
"Hmph! The only thing I tolerate about you is your straightforward tongue. At least you do not babble useless, flowery nonsense like those other fools."
No sooner had Yu Gon finished speaking than a vision flashed before Jekyeong's eyes.
A colossal fish, so massive it made the boundless ocean seem narrow, swam through the deep. With a mighty strike of its tail, it shattered the waves and transformed into a bird of magnificent wings, soaring high into the heavens. Its breath summoned raging tempests, and with a single sweep of its wings, the dark, heavy clouds parted to reveal a pristine sky.
Jekyeong felt a sense of boundless, infinite freedom from that awe-inspiring sight. What shackle could possibly bind such an existence? Even the heavens themselves would find it impossible. If only I could become like that. If only I could be that free.
"That is enough."
Yu Gon's gruff voice snapped Jekyeong out of his reverie. The colossal bird that seemed to traverse the world alone vanished without a trace, leaving only Yu Gon's spiritual body—resembling a dense cluster of stars—standing before him.
"Do not lose yourself in it. It is well to have ambition, but you must never forget where you currently stand. Otherwise, you will ruin yourself chasing empty dreams."
"...Thank you for your guidance."
Jekyeong had many questions, but he chose not to ask. Instead, he focused on his spiritual body, which felt significantly lighter and more stable.
"I could not clear it completely. The only reason I could do even this much is because you merely brushed against a lingering residue of Taotie's aura."
Yu Gon's grumbling voice grew noticeably heavier.
"If you wish to live even a little longer, do not get involved with gods. And do your best to avoid the madmen who worship them."
"I will keep that in mind."
"Well, do as you please. Now that your business is concluded, get lost. Stop disturbing my peace."
"Forgive my intrusion. And thank you again for your help. If the opportunity arises, I will surely repay this debt."
"I will remember those words even if you do not—including the debt from before."
Bidding farewell to his gruff senior, Jekyeong immediately departed from Bul-mang-won.
"..."
Inside the crude, hastily dug cave, Jekyeong opened his eyes.
It is fine.
While his physical condition could hardly be called perfect, his mind was remarkably clear. He had no trouble gathering his focus, and the unpleasant sensation of his mind being constantly encroached upon by contamination had vanished.
Has the situation out there... settled down to some extent?
Loud noises still echoed from above, but their intensity had noticeably decreased compared to before.
However...
Something feels off.
Jekyeong debated whether to ascend immediately or wait a bit longer, but he ultimately decided to head up now. There was no logical reason; it was pure intuition. A strange, persistent itch prickled down his spine. Whether it was a premonition of danger, anticipation, or something else entirely, he chose to trust his instincts.
Thud!
Just as he had when descending, Jekyeong climbed back up as quietly and cautiously as possible. Ultimately, however, his caution proved meaningless. The moment he emerged, he spotted two figures facing off atop the altar.
Strictly speaking, it was one person facing off against dozens, but Jekyeong recognized at a glance that those dozens were all Lost-Soul Puppets.
Myeong-ha. And... Gwak Yeon?
Jekyeong's eyes narrowed. He was slightly surprised to see Gwak Yeon alive and well, but that was all. Jo Baek had clearly been out of his mind, so Jekyeong had only half-believed his crazed ramblings anyway.
On the other hand, seeing Myeong-ha employ dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators as Lost-Soul Puppets was deeply shocking. This far exceeded the level of strength Jekyeong had attributed to him.
Easily over thirty Foundation Establishment cultivators. Furthermore, about ten of them were in the late stage. Controlling such a force like mere puppets would be a daunting task even for a Core Formation cultivator.
Yet Myeong-ha was doing it, and he didn't even look particularly strained. How was this possible?
Though it was unclear how they had ended up in this situation, Gwak Yeon also seemed slightly flustered.
Then again, her side is just as astonishing.
While Myeong-ha's control over dozens of Foundation Establishment puppets was shocking, Gwak Yeon was holding her own against that formidable force, merely showing slight agitation.
Hundreds of glowing talismans hovered around her like a protective shield. Their power was immense; every time a talisman flared with light, one or two Foundation Establishment puppets were sent flying, coughing up blood.
Yet the most critical factor was not her miraculous talisman arts.
She exuded a familiar yet foreign pressure. It was so intense and ominous that even Jekyeong, watching from a distance, felt a heavy weight pressing down on him.
"Ah, Fellow Daoist. It seems you have finally recovered."
As Jekyeong was busily analyzing the situation, Myeong-ha's telepathic transmission interrupted his thoughts.
"As you can see, the situation is not favorable."
"Is that so? It does not look so bad from where I am standing."
"My bluff must have been quite convincing then, to have fooled both Gwak Yeon and you."
Bluff? Fooled? Jekyeong's mind grew tangled with questions, but Myeong-ha gave him no time to ponder.
"Fellow Daoist, listen closely. Do you see the heavily cracked bead embedded in Gwak Yeon's forehead? That is Jegu's Demon Core. She has already obtained the core left behind by Demon King Jegu and refined it. Well, to be precise, she is still in the process of refining it. But even so, her strength has exploded. At least for now, there is no one in this secret realm who can match her."
"And? Are you suggesting we join forces and make a desperate stand?"
Jekyeong did not know exactly how powerful Gwak Yeon had become after refining the Demon King's core. However, even if he did not know her limits, he knew his own. Even in peak condition, it would be difficult to guarantee victory against dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators, especially with over ten late-stage ones among them. This remained true even if their combat effectiveness had dropped significantly after becoming puppets.
Yet Gwak Yeon was not merely holding her ground against them; she was comfortably maintaining the upper hand.
Against such an opponent, would his intervention—especially in his current, less-than-ideal state—make any meaningful difference? If possible, it might be wiser to slip away while Myeong-ha bought him time.
"Fellow Daoist, I have a plan."
As if reading Jekyeong's thoughts, Myeong-ha quickly relayed his plan. As the explanation continued, the hesitation in Jekyeong's eyes gradually hardened into resolve.
*
Boom!
Gwak Yeon frowned as she watched a massive black Gyoryong soar upward like an ascending dragon. She had known for some time that the hidden beast had finished tending to its wounds and reappeared.
She had chosen not to react simply because she did not wish to provoke another enemy unnecessarily when the opponent showed no signs of attacking. In fact, she had even considered letting the black Gyoryong go if it chose to turn and flee.
Of course, letting it go merely meant allowing it to leave this immediate spot, not permitting it to escape the secret realm entirely. That black Gyoryong was one of the most valuable sacrifices available; she could never truly let it escape.
This must be your doing.
Her cold, hardened gaze swept past the puppets to land on Myeong-ha, who was hiding behind them.
Hum!
A dozen talismans flared with light simultaneously and shot forward. While some targeted the puppets rushing toward her, others flew directly toward Myeong-ha, who was smirking behind his vanguard.
Crash!
However, both the snake-like arcs of lightning and the fierce stone spears—capable of grinding anything they touched to dust—were abruptly blocked by a massive, black "fortress wall."
"Grrr."
A massive body covered in scales as thick and sturdy as castle walls writhed. Ignoring the stinging pain, Jekyeong glared at Gwak Yeon and sent a telepathic message to Myeong-ha.
"I hope those words weren't just empty nonsense."
"Rest assured. Have I ever lied to you? Besides... we do not have any other choice."
The fact that Myeong-ha was likely right only irritated Jekyeong further.
"Fellow Daoist Jekyeong. This matter does not concern you, so withdraw."
"Do you take me for a fool?"
Jekyeong unleashed a torrent of murderous intent as he glared at Gwak Yeon, who was trying to cajole him. Why were all of these humans so silver-tongued? Did she truly believe she could sway him with such absurd wordplay just because he was a beast?
"Are you truly going to refuse my hospitality and choose the hard way? Just because ignorant fools revere you as a dragon lord, do you truly believe you have become a dragon?"
Jekyeong answered Gwak Yeon's icy question with a burst of scorching heat.
Channeling his monster power, a torrent of Yokai Fire illuminated the dark sky in a crimson glow.
Go on, hurry. The miraculous opportunity is right there, embedded in that woman's forehead.
As Jekyeong and Gwak Yeon clashed, Myeong-ha urged the puppets forward once more.
He had not lied. His situation was indeed far worse than it appeared on the surface. Controlling dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators as Lost-Soul Puppets? If such a feat were truly possible, why would he have struggled so much?
Those dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators had merely fallen into a state of deep hypnosis; they had not truly become his Lost-Soul Puppets. His Heavenly Cursed Thread could neither bind nor control them completely. He had merely stimulated their deepest desires and given them a gentle nudge.
Under normal circumstances outside, this would have been impossible. It was only feasible here due to the unique environment of this secret realm—specifically, the corrupting influence of Taotie.
He had simply targeted their minds, already frayed and battered by constant contamination, using their desperate longing for the core and a higher realm of cultivation as bait.
"Aaaah!"
Finally, a cultivator with the lowest realm and weakest mental fortitude could no longer withstand Myeong-ha's relentless instigation. Letting out a ragged, screaming cry, they charged forward.