The Embers of Realization

Even if it was a mere one percent chance, or an even more microscopic probability, Jekyeong had no desire to take unnecessary risks.

‘Senior Sangyoza. I hope you have achieved what you desired.’

Deep within the Black Cult Palace, Jekyeong offered a silent, solemn prayer in his heart before once again reviewing the harvest he had obtained from the Grotto-heaven.

First, a Core Formation stage cultivation method that Sangyoza was presumed to have practiced. Second, two volumes of cultivation journals seemingly penned by Sangyoza himself. Third, a Jade Slip containing information on the demons and monsters active in Yangseo Lake seven thousand years ago. And finally, a small amount of powder that radiated a dense Dao Rhyme.

The Core Formation method was a wood-attribute technique named the Heavenly Tree Life-Prolonging Art.

Judging by the name alone, it sounded more like a secret longevity technique than a proper cultivation method, but the Heavenly Tree Life-Prolonging Art was undeniably a high-grade cultivation technique. However, because its efficacy was focused on nourishing life rather than combat power, and because it indeed possessed life-prolonging effects, calling it a longevity technique was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not entirely incorrect.

While any Core Formation stage technique was considered a treasure in the cultivation world, this Heavenly Tree Life-Prolonging Art was particularly special among them. This was solely due to its life-prolonging capability.

Once a cultivator achieved minor mastery in the technique, their lifespan would increase by a minimum of fifty years to a maximum of one hundred years, depending on their innate talent and constitution. Upon reaching grand mastery, their lifespan would extend by another fifty to one hundred years. Theoretically, one could aim for a maximum lifespan extension of two hundred years.

An extra two hundred years of life might seem trivial to the long-lived Beast Race, but it held immense significance for the short-lived Human Race. Even if it were only twenty years instead of two hundred, they would fight tooth and nail for it. After all, even low-grade Life-Prolonging Pills that merely extended one's lifespan by a year or two consistently fetched the highest bids whenever they appeared at auctions.

‘Unfortunately, I can't just sell this off right now.’

Those who would show interest in a Core Formation stage technique would all be Core Formation cultivators, or at the very least, Foundation Establishment cultivators standing on the threshold of Core Formation. Such individuals were not opponents the current Jekyeong could handle. Therefore, he had to keep this treasure tightly sealed away, at least until he reached the Yao King realm.

‘Still, it's not bad. I can at least use it as a reference.’

While the Heavenly Tree Life-Prolonging Art was a treasure, the cultivation journals were equally invaluable. As a member of the Bulmangwon network, Jekyeong had attended the Bulmang Assemblies and heard the sermons of his Core Formation seniors, so he had picked up a fair amount of information here and there. However, one could never have too many insights from a Core Formation cultivator. Furthermore, while sermons were refined and polished, the contents of these journals were raw, recorded by Sangyoza the moment he attained his realizations.

In some ways, they could be considered unpolished, but that raw nature made certain parts resonate even more deeply. Repeatedly meditating on them would undoubtedly prove beneficial.

‘As for the demon registry... I can just look through it for amusement when I have some free time later.’

If they were demons from a thousand, or even two thousand years ago, he would have examined it seriously. But seven thousand years? It would be a miracle if even a single bone fragment of theirs remained.

‘And this... there's no mistake, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is there?’

The final remaining item: the powder that radiated a dense Dao Rhyme. Jekyeong suspected that this was the remnants of a Golden Core. If his hypothesis was correct, this powder would be the greatest harvest he had reaped from his journey to the Secret Realm.

‘Dao Rhyme. Dao Rhyme, indeed.’

Jekyeong could feel a profound, mysterious truth contained within the pile of powder, which barely filled a small pouch, but he could not discern exactly what it was. It was like looking at a faint silhouette shrouded in thick fog. Something definitely existed beyond it, and he could vaguely see its shape, but he could not grasp its precise nature.

‘It's fine.’

After racking his brain for a while, Jekyeong cleared his cluttered mind. If thinking deeply yielded no answers, then he simply had to think simply.

‘If I cannot comprehend it, I just need to feel it as it is.’

Jekyeong recalled a sermon he had heard from a senior at a previous Bulmang Assembly. Had they not said that the Dao is complex, but precisely because of that, it is simple? He did not know if those words applied to his current situation, but they suddenly came to mind.

Jekyeong closed his eyes, sat in a meditative posture, and savored the Dao Rhyme emanating from the powder. He continued until the slowly fading Dao Rhyme finally vanished completely.

Feeling the Dao Rhyme as it was was akin to groping objects with one's eyes closed. It could not compare to seeing them directly, but with sufficient time and effort, one could still sketch a rough shape in their mind.

After two months, the Dao Rhyme dwelling within the powder had faded to the point of being barely detectable. Only then did Jekyeong open his eyes.

‘Core Formation.’

The fruits of his two-month meditation were substantial. Jekyeong had already possessed his own understanding of Core Formation, but this meditation had deepened it significantly. If his previous comprehension had been like roughly sketching a few lines, it had now reached a level that could be called a proper drawing—well, assuming one could call a child's crude scribbles a drawing.

‘The core I form will undoubtedly be a Demon Core. But a mediocre Demon Core will not suffice.’

The reason was simple: he was no ordinary beast. Since Core Formation was the first step in establishing one's own Dao, the core had to fully encapsulate the cultivator's unique characteristics.

‘The Dao I must pursue is clear.’

The Path of the Fire Dragon. He would become a fire dragon that roamed the heavens and earth freely, casting off all shackles.

‘In that case, should I reference the cultivation of the Dragon Clan? But is the Path of the Fire Dragon I pursue the same as the bloodline ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inheritance of the dragons?’

He doubted it. The Path of the Fire Dragon he envisioned and pursued had been born entirely from his own concepts; Jekyeong had never referenced the Dragon Clan during that process. Therefore, while there might be overlapping aspects, they would not be entirely identical.

Whoosh!

Flames erupted, and fiery clouds blanketed the skies above Heukgyo Island. Not stopping there, they stretched beyond the island's borders. On a quiet nearby islet, a certain giant tree leisurely enjoying its photosynthesis grumbled in annoyance, but Jekyeong was too absorbed in his internal contemplation to notice.

"Caw! Caw! He's at it again!"

Cheongo quickly escaped the island, which had turned sweltering in an instant, and flew toward Muk-su. For a while, the bird and the tree enthusiastically gossiped about the reckless, troublesome serpent. However, as the heat grew increasingly unbearable, they shook their heads and fled once more. Cheongo flew further south, while Muk-su stood up on its roots like legs and submerged itself in the water. Although the water was also boiling hot, it was still better than being roasted alive on the island.

"Phew."

Just as the complaints of the bird and the tree reached their peak, and the low-level Water Beasts could no longer endure and began to flee, Jekyeong ceased his contemplation.

Through this contemplation, Jekyeong gained a clearer understanding of his Dao. His Dao was rooted in the Path of Fire, yet its ultimate destination was becoming a dragon.

Jekyeong sensed the Origin Earth Fire burning endlessly within his spiritual core. This fierce flame was the very core of the cultivation he pursued. To borrow the terminology of the Human Race, it could be called a Dharma Seed.

‘If the Origin Earth Fire is my Dharma Seed, then my Core Formation must also be established upon the foundation of the Origin Earth Fire.’

A brilliant flame flickered within Jekyeong's calm, settled eyes. Breaking through to a major realm in the darkness was akin to being reborn. This was especially true for the Beast Race—more precisely, beasts without a powerful bloodline. For them, breaking through each realm was an act of defying the heavens.

‘That fellow Myeong-ha summoned a lightning tribulation when he attempted Core Formation in the past.’

It had been a gamble, but at the same time, it was a mere pretense. One could say he had only dipped his toes in the water. Yet, even so, Myeong-ha had looked highly uncomfortable, meaning he had undoubtedly paid a significant price just for that brief attempt. This alone showed how arduous Core Formation truly was.

‘My lifespan is likely on the longer side, even among the Beast Race. From that perspective, I have multiple opportunities... but since I do not know how severe the price of a failed Core Formation might be, it is dangerous to be complacent. Thus... I must assume I have at most two, or perhaps three attempts.’

While the fragile humans usually died or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠became crippled after a single failed breakthrough, he was different. He possessed a long lifespan and a robust foundation, so he could likely withstand one or two failures. Of course, succeeding on the first try was still the best outcome, but knowing he had a fallback option gave Jekyeong the peace of mind to remain perfectly level-headed while planning his Core Formation.

‘Before I attempt Core Formation, I must raise my cultivation as high as it can possibly go.’

That was the essence of a foundation. A sturdy physical body and abundant Monster Power would increase his success rate even by a fraction, and even if he failed, they would minimize the backlash. Was there not a saying in his past life: Do your best and leave the rest to heaven? Though he was no longer human in this life, the principle remained the same.

‘There is no rush. Core Formation is a hurdle that most cultivators struggle to challenge even once in their entire lives.’

After finishing his meditation, Jekyeong fell into the illusion that he had attained some grand realization regarding Core Formation. Yes, it was an illusion. It was always those with half-baked knowledge whose minds wavered the most. Jekyeong calmly assessed his state and organized his views on Core Formation once more.

By the time he finished everything, over half a year had already slipped by. During that time, Myeong-ha had sent a couple of messages, but since they contained nothing of importance, Jekyeong had ignored them all.

‘Has the dust finally settled?’

Having finally found the leisure to look around after half a year, Jekyeong first gathered information on the events and current trends in the Human Territory.

According to the information obtained from Myeong-ha, Choi Ju-tang, and Han Cheongyu, the Human Territory had been thrown into utter chaos over the past six months due to the Secret Realm rumored to hide an opportunity for Core Formation.

Not only late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators but even mid-stage ones had flocked to this mysterious Secret Realm as if possessed, resulting in countless disappearances and casualties.

When the rumors first spread, people had gathered with half-skeptical minds. However, when they all vanished, public opinion shifted to believe that even if the Secret Realm did not contain an opportunity for Core Formation, something extraordinary was definitely there. Consequently, even those who had initially shown no interest or had chosen to watch cautiously began to cast their eyes toward the Secret Realm.

By the time they formally set foot in the Secret Realm, Jekyeong and Myeong-ha had already withdrawn. Yet, the storm of blood that swept through the Human Territory was far more violent than when they had been secretly active.

There was nothing left in the Secret Realm, but they refused to believe it. They assumed someone had already obtained the opportunity for Core Formation, or something equivalent to it, and was hiding their harvest. Suspicion bred suspicion, and bloated paranoia inevitably spilled blood.

Once blood began to flow, there was no stopping it. Cultivators who caught the scent of blood went wild as if they had been waiting for this very moment, and the once-quiet Secret Realm instantly transformed into a battlefield.

‘The two great Core Formation sects and several human factions intervened to suppress the chaos... but the Rogue Cultivators, believing they conspired to monopolize the opportunity for Core Formation, have reached the peak of their discontent... I see.’

Though the fire had been temporarily put out by the suppression of several great powers, it was a mere stopgap measure. The embers still smoldered, and their act of crushing the cultivators with raw power and authority was akin to pouring oil all over the surroundings. Once those scattered embers caught fire again, they would burn far more fiercely than before.

‘There is no way they do not know what I know. Yet, they chose to suppress it with brute force anyway, which means...’

In that instant, several possibilities crossed his mind, but Jekyeong refrained from jumping to conclusions.

"What about Jaseong Island?"

As if he had anticipated this question, Hyeongu flapped his webbed feet and answered immediately.

"There are no issues there, Master. Those who are seriously interested in the Secret Realm are, at the very least, mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators."

"Indeed."

After the leader of the Hyeong-eo Gang died, there had been no significant changes on Jaseong Island. No one stepped forward to claim hegemony, nor did any new external forces roll in. In that tense yet quiet atmosphere, Han Cheongyu steadily and unwaveringly solidified his position as a Demon Hunter.

Everything was going smoothly. If Jekyeong had his way, he would have liked to enter secluded cultivation for several years like this. Unfortunately, he could not. A greedy god who knew no satisfaction was salivating right above his head.

Of course, Myeong-ha would be the first to be drenched in that saliva, but as they were bound together, Jekyeong could not completely turn a blind eye either.

‘Since half a year has passed, that fellow must be getting anxious by now.’

Myeong-ha's patience was strong enough to remain unshaken even if ten years passed, let alone half a year. But that greedy god salivating above him... did such a concept as patience even exist within that entity?

"Fellow Daoist. I assume you have fully grasped the current trends in the Human Territory?"

Sure enough, less than a fortnight after Jekyeong ended his secluded cultivation, Myeong-ha came to find him. The moment he saw Jekyeong, he asked if he had finished organizing his thoughts.

Jekyeong scanned the early-stage Foundation Establishment Lost-Soul Puppet from head to toe and nodded.

"Yes. Frankly, I do not understand. Was there really a need to suppress them so heavy-handedly?"

"Well. It was probably half and half. They might have thought that if the commotion grew too large, it would become harder to find the item. Or perhaps they were genuinely concerned about the depletion of the Human Race's strength."