A Single Spark
"What did you say?"
"I said, open it."
The sharp gazes of the canal inspectors pierced the bottom of the boat. That was where the day's catch was kept.
"Why are you doing this?"
There was no reason he couldn't open it. After all, the only things inside were ordinary fish. The real problem was the oppressive atmosphere these men carried.
"The atmosphere around the waters has been unusual lately. We received reports that spies from the Beast Race are active both inside and outside the island."
"What does that have to do with us?"
"Who knows if there's a beast hiding down there?"
It was a blatant provocation. Bak No-sam grit his teeth. He had spent over a decade making a living as a fisherman, and he had lived on Yubak Island for more than twice that long. He knew exactly what their nonsense implied.
Spies from the Beast Race? What absolute garbage. These bastards were just trying to extort more Spirit Stones. Normally, the transit fee was a fixed amount determined by the size of the vessel. It was an established custom known to both the gatekeepers and the travelers. Yet, these men were breaking that custom. The island's atmosphere had been turbulent lately, and now even these low-level thugs were starting to run rampant.
Ugh. Rage boiled hot in his chest, but he couldn't afford to lash out. After all, these men were officially appointed canal inspectors. Clashing with them meant severe punishment, unless he planned to flee Yubak Island forever this very day. Taking a deep breath, Bak No-sam pulled out a few more Spirit Stones. Their catch had already been poor; if he was extorted like this for the transit fee, there would be almost nothing left.
"Hmm."
One of the canal inspectors snatched the Spirit Stones. He exchanged a glance with his companions before speaking again.
"I won't say it twice. Open it."
"What?"
Bak No-sam's face flushed crimson. His crewmates, who had been keeping their distance, could no longer bear it and stepped forward. As if waiting for this exact moment, the canal inspectors glared fiercely and drew their spiritual weapons.
"We are conducting an inspection! Back off!"
The crew hesitated at the shout. What held them back was not the inspectors' threats, but the last remaining thread of their reason.
"Don't be so greedy!"
"Greedy? How does a legitimate execution of public duty turn into greed the moment it passes through your filthy mouth?"
A mocking voice, contemptuous eyes. Bak No-sam's breathing grew incredibly ragged. The thread of reason in his mind was stretched to its absolute limit. The resentment and anger he had accumulated from past inspections, the disappointment of this near-empty catch, and countless other negative memories and emotions flooded his mind and heart.
And then, in an instant—
Snap!
Something unknown silently approached and severed his taut thread of reason.
"If you don't know, then just die!"
His eyes bloodshot, Bak No-sam thrust his harpoon-shaped spiritual weapon forward, piercing the heart of the inspector who had mocked him. Squelch! The inspector was at the mid-stage of Qi Refining, and Bak No-sam was at the same level. However, even at the same stage, Bak No-sam's skills—acquired through haphazardly practicing a cultivation method of unknown origin—should have been incomparable to an inspector formally trained in a sect. Thus, Bak No-sam piercing the inspector's heart in a single strike was an impossible feat, even considering the element of surprise.
Yet, at this moment, no one—not even Bak No-sam himself—sensed anything strange. Swept up by the sight of blood, his crewmates behind him also flew into a frenzy and lunged at the remaining inspectors.
"Y-You madmen! What is the meaning of—"
"This is rebellion!"
With rolled-back eyes, Bak No-sam and his crew slaughtered the horrified inspectors. From start to finish, there was not a shred of hesitation. They felt no strangeness until they drew the last inspector's dying breath. They did not know, nor did they care to wonder, why they had become so furious, or how they had exerted power far beyond their usual capabilities.
Thus, four canal inspectors lost their lives to a group of enraged fishermen. It was merely a minor incident on a small fishing boat. But sometimes, a massive wildfire begins with a single, microscopic spark.
"How dare these lowborn wretches!"
Those in power feared nothing more than a challenge to their authority. The sect families of Yubak Island, who had already been suppressing their boiling inner irritation due to the tense political climate, seized this opportunity to display their dominance. The public execution of Bak No-sam and his crew was only the beginning. They tightened their grip not only on the fishermen but also on the rogue cultivators, who had been subtly exuding an air of unrest. From the sects' perspective, this was a necessary measure to restore order on Yubak Island. But to the fishermen and rogue cultivators who bore the brunt of this sudden wrath, it was nothing but baseless oppression.
"Those absolute bastards!"
In the past, they would have swallowed their anger, cursing a thousand times in their minds and venting their frustration elsewhere. Emotion was emotion, but reality was reality. This time, however, was different.
"I can't take this anymore!"
Several rogue cultivators rose up. Among them were those who had carved out a decent name for themselves on Yubak Island, but there were also nameless individuals who barely scraped by. It was a signal, a gust of wind. The tiny spark lit by a few fishermen grew into a raging fire through them.
"How long must we bow our heads like cowards? Will you only regret not rising up after they have stripped the very last piece of flesh from our bones?!"
No one knew who first raised their voice. The instigating cries that had begun to echo at some point quickly reverberated across Yubak Island. The rogue cultivators, who had been seething over various injustices, joined the chorus as if possessed, rising to their feet.
"Rebellion! It's a rebellion!"
"You fools! Do you all wish to die?!"
By this point, the sect families of Yubak Island sensed the danger and began to respond aggressively. They recalled their disciples and clansmen scattered across the island, and the Foundation Establishment cultivators gathered to deliberate.
"It is already too late."
"Since things have escalated to this point, we cannot resolve this simply by executing a few ringleaders."
"The real issue is that we don't even know who the ringleaders are."
They quickly reached a consensus and made their decision.
"There is no other choice."
"We must take this opportunity to sweep them all away."
"This might actually be for the best. Once we make an example of them, things will remain quiet for a while."
Soon, a bloody wind swept through Yubak Island. And amidst that crimson gale, several unfamiliar figures quietly slipped onto the island.
Night at the Yeongu Sect
Yubak Island was one of the major strongholds of the Southern Region, home to a chaotic mix of various sects and clans. While some possessed histories spanning hundreds of years, others had been established for less than a few decades. These newer factions had typically risen to prominence in the current generation; though their history was brief, their influence was often stronger than that of the older, established sect families. The reason was simple.
Whether it was a sect or a clan, building a faction from scratch was no easy feat. Aside from establishing a foundation, one had to withstand the constant interference and checks from existing powers. Overcoming all those obstacles to successfully build a proper faction was virtually impossible without absolute strength. Thus, the strength of the individual who accomplished such a difficult task had to be extraordinary.
The Yeongu Sect was precisely such a place. Seok Ya-jung, the founding patriarch of the Yeongu Sect, was a prominent hero of the current generation, recognized by every cultivator on Yubak Island. Although his cultivation was only at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment, he was highly skilled in combat, capable of holding his own in a direct confrontation against most late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators. Furthermore, because he was still relatively young and possessed ample potential to reach the late stage of Foundation Establishment, few dared to challenge him when he first established the Yeongu Sect. Since then, he had consolidated his foundation without facing any major hurdles.
Thanks to the sect's formidable reputation, the disciples of the Yeongu Sect walked with their shoulders held high within their territory. Even rogue cultivators with higher cultivation realms would yield the path or avoid their gaze. It was hard to find any young disciple who had not grown drunk on this borrowed authority.
It is nothing but a fleeting pleasure of no real consequence,So Cheonghwa thought as he watched his fellow disciples swaggering around in groups. The Yeongu Sect may look grand on the outside, but its inner depth is as shallow as a freshly formed puddle of rainwater. It is not a place with a future.
It was a truth he hadn't realized before joining the Yeongu Sect, but even if he had known, he would have crossed its threshold anyway. He simply had no other choice. Although So Cheonghwa was quite young compared to his cultivation level, most sects preferred to recruit disciples at a very young age and raise them from scratch. They believed this was the only way to foster absolute loyalty to the sect. When he had first arrived on Yubak Island in search of a place to belong, So Cheonghwa needed immediate stability rather than long-term prospects. Among the options available to him at the time, the Yeongu Sect was the best he could do.
Almost all of the sect's resources are being funneled into the Sect Master's cultivation. Although his low status limited the information he could access, he could still see and hear enough. It was no exaggeration to say that the current Yeongu Sect existed solely for the sake of its Sect Master. Of course, there was a grand justification: only when the Sect Master broke through to the late stage of Foundation Establishment and joined the ranks of the island's top powerhouses would the Yeongu Sect's standing rise, allowing all the disciples to reap the benefits.
However, So Cheonghwa and anyone else with a brain knew that this justification was laughable. If the Sect Master broke through to the late stage of Foundation Establishment, it would indeed be a cause for celebration. But could he actually do it? And even if he could, when would that be? If it took decades, were the disciples expected to starve for all those long years?
Living beings had lifespans, and cultivation had its proper timing. This was true for Qi Refining disciples, and even more so for Foundation Establishment cultivators. If all the disciples of the sect were forced to sacrifice themselves for the Sect Master's indefinite cultivation, who would possibly be content? Excluding the immature fools who were too busy putting on airs, those who were seriously dedicated to their cultivation already harbored deep resentment toward the sect. They felt exploited by the sect, and by extension, the Sect Master.
In truth, this structure of upward exploitation was the fundamental law of the cultivation world, extending far beyond individual sects and clans. However, those who exploited their subordinates usually maintained a delicate balance, ensuring that the exploited did not feel pushed beyond their limits. From that perspective, the Yeongu Sect was not entirely unique. After all, every cultivator burned with ambition for their own progress until they hit an insurmountable wall.
The difference between the Yeongu Sect and the older, established sects lay in the fact that the latter had structured systems and multiple figures at the top vying for resources. As these leaders checked one another and clashed, the trickle of resources flowing down to the lower ranks naturally became thicker. Though still insufficient, the disciples at the bottom could at least utilize those scraps to grow. In contrast, there was no one in the Yeongu Sect who could keep Seok Ya-jung in check, and he gave no thought to the future generations. As a relatively young mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, he firmly believed he could reach much higher realms.
While such a mindset was a commendable Dao heart for an individual cultivator, that very same ambition acted as a slow-acting poison to the disciples of the Yeongu Sect.
"Cheonghwa, let's head back."
"Alright."
So Cheonghwa turned around at his companion's call. He had been out on patrol duty with a few fellow disciples, though calling it a patrol was generous—it was essentially a leisurely stroll. Their Sect Master's reputation was formidable enough that very few dared to cause trouble within the Yeongu Sect's territory.