A Faint Ember
As he caught his breath, Myeong-ha's low voice reached his ears. "The Mountain-Protecting Grand Array has shattered!"
"The enemy is swarming in! Hold them back!" The Lost-Soul Puppets breached the mountain gate of the Jongseong Sect.
A few disciples of the Jongseong Sect grit their teeth and fought back despite their panic, but their numbers were far too small. Most were still clutching their heads from the backlash of the Mountain-Protecting Grand Array's collapse, or scrambling about in utter confusion, unable to grasp the situation.
"As expected, they fall short," Myeong-ha coolly assessed the battlefield. Even though the cultivators of the Jongseong Sect had failed to properly rally, they were gradually pushing back the Lost-Soul Puppets.
What a pity. Truly a pity. Even with double or triple the numbers, it seemed impossible for Lost-Soul Puppets to match fully functional cultivators. Myeong-ha smacked his lips, looking down at the Jongseong Sect cultivators who were slowly regaining their senses and rallying. Once their numerical advantage was neutralized, the Lost-Soul Puppets began to collapse rapidly.
He doesn't seem to have much breathing room either. Glancing toward Jekyeong just in case, Myeong-ha saw him locked in a breathless battle, surrounded by the Sect Master and elders of the Jongseong Sect. To an outsider, Jekyeong appeared to be hopelessly cornered, but the only injuries he had sustained were from recklessly destroying the Mountain-Protecting Grand Array. Even if his body was somewhat battered, a mere six early to mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators would never be enough to overcome him.
I suppose I have no choice. A pale blue ghostly fire flared in Myeong-ha's eyes. Invisible spiderwebs spun out from him, instantly blanketing Mount Jongseong. Over a thousand points of light materialized upon his web. Myeong-ha slammed his hand down hard on a few that flickered precariously.
An invisible web of souls blankets the mountain, piercing the spirits of the weak.
"Aaargh!" A Jongseong Sect disciple, who had been fighting breathlessly, suddenly screamed and began attacking everything in his vicinity. Chaos and madness erupted across the battlefield.
This is so tedious. As Myeong-ha manually fanned the flames of madness across the battlefield, a sudden thought struck him: Could there be an easier way to handle this? After all, all this effort was merely to secure sacrifices. Why not just offer the entire Jongseong Sect as a sacrifice right here and now? It would be so much faster and simpler. Why was he going through all this trouble? Wasn't he just making things unnecessarily hard for himself?
"Mmm." His fingers—no, his sharp, spindly spider legs—twitched nervously. His glistening eyes, clouded with deep contemplation, darted back and forth. Yes. The more I think about it, the stranger it is. Why take the long way around when there is a perfectly clear, direct path? If I sacrifice them all at once, and if that still isn't enough, I can just add that prickly business partner over there, and even myself...
"Why take the long way around? Offer them all. Sacrifice the sect, sacrifice your partner, sacrifice yourself... Feed the hunger."
Crunch! The moment his thoughts reached that point, Myeong-ha bit his own tongue. His teeth sank deep into the soft flesh, and a mouthful of metallic, coppery blood burst forth, drenching his mouth.
"Ah... ah." His half-severed tongue twitched inside his mouth. The sharp, stinging pain and the metallic stench of blood instantly cleared his head. Vile. Absolutely vile. He thought he had cleansed all of it, but was there still some left? Or was the belief that he had cleansed it merely an illusion?
Careful. I must be careful. This was an endless tug-of-war. The moment he let his guard down and relaxed his grip, he would be dragged into the abyss without a prayer. What a damnably wicked entity. Truly, a master so gluttonous it was repulsive. He wanted nothing more than to laugh mockingly in every direction, but he forced the urge down.
Boom! At the deafening explosion and the violent gust of wind that followed, Myeong-ha turned his gaze to see an elderly cultivator flying through the air, coughing up blood. A decrepit mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. He was likely the Sect Master of the Jongseong Sect, or perhaps a senior elder.
"Sect Master!" So he was indeed the Sect Master. "You monster!" A massive bronze statue clapped its hands together. Caught between the rapidly closing palms was Jekyeong, his entire body wrapped in roaring flames.
Thud! The palms that were about to crush him were violently blown apart, and immediately after, the massive head of the bronze statue caved in. Having shattered a bronze statue hundreds of times his size with a single blow, Jekyeong did not stop. His movements were so blindingly fast that they were nearly impossible to track with the naked eye; the spells and Dharma Treasures aimed at him all struck empty air.
How exhilarating. Rough, yet completely unbridled. A cultivator's true nature could never be hidden; even in a brief clash, it shone through with such clarity. I'm envious. The Heavenly Cursed Thread pierced another point of light upon the web.
The Jongseong Sect, a prestigious lineage with two hundred years of history on Yubak Island, had fallen.
Its mountain gate was shattered and burned, and not a single disciple survived. The corpses scattered across the mountain and the scars of battle offered a vague explanation of what had transpired, but there were more than a few suspicious details that those traces could not account for.
For instance, how could a prominent sect collapse so catastrophically in a single night? What had happened to the leadership, including the Sect Master? And if they were dead, where had all their bodies gone?
Some harbored deep suspicions, while others trembled with a primal dread, as if sensing something sinister. There were even those who argued that they should temporarily halt the fighting and hold a calm, rational discussion. However, their voices were easily drowned out by the much louder, rage-filled cries of the masses.
"Yubak Island has been far too quiet for too long. Resources are limited, yet cultivators are aplenty, so someone was always bound to starve."
Those who starved were mostly rogue cultivators, but the sects and noble clans were far from satisfied either. It was not because they were exceptionally greedy, but simply because that was the inherent nature of cultivators. Those who had nothing wished to possess, and those who possessed wished for more. One might call it greed, but a cultivator's greed was almost always packaged under the virtuous name of "aspiration." In all likelihood, the word "satisfaction" did not exist in their vocabulary.
Conflict was merely the manifestation of friction and a natural outlet for pent-up frustration. Attempting to artificially control and suppress it would only lead to a far greater explosion down the line, and that was precisely the state of Yubak Island.
"Now that the oil has caught fire, it can neither be stopped nor slowed," Myeong-ha asserted confidently. "Still, let us wait a bit for now. There is no need to raise unnecessary suspicions."
Inside a spacious room at an inn, Jekyeong silently chewed on a monster core and swallowed his Spirit Wine. In less than a day, color returned to his pale face, and his shallow breathing stabilized.
"You truly possess a sturdy constitution. I'm envious," Myeong-ha remarked.
"Why don't you try practicing a body-tempering technique then?" Jekyeong replied.
"Haha." Myeong-ha shook his head as if he had just heard a highly amusing joke. "I hear a man named Samugi is gathering a massive crowd. It might be worth paying him a visit."
"Without watching a bit longer?"
"If we wait too long, it might become awkward to intervene."
Six days had passed since they destroyed the Jongseong Sect. During that time, sporadic clashes had broken out all over Yubak Island, but few could be called proper battles. Now, however, Myeong-ha sensed a tension as tautly wound as a drawn bowstring.
Samugi, a highly respected rogue cultivator, had summoned a vast number of his acquaintances. Not stopping there, he was publicly denouncing the atrocities of the sects and noble clans, rallying the rogue cultivators to his side. It was the classic behavior of an opportunist attempting to orchestrate a grand scheme.
"Let's go."
"Are we going to join this Samugi fellow?"
"Haha." Once again, Myeong-ha laughed and shook his head. "How could that be?"
Samugi
Samugi was a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator who had turned one hundred and forty-seven this year. By his own claim, his lineage had taken root on Yubak Island five generations ago, making him an absolute native. There was no way to verify if his words were true, nor did anyone care to. Native or not, it was an undeniable fact that he had lived on Yubak Island for a very long time.
"Old Man Sa? He's not bad." This was likely the most common response one would hear when asking the Foundation Establishment rogue cultivators of Yubak Island about him.
"Senior Sa's character is a model that all cultivators should strive to emulate." This was the answer one would receive from the Qi Condensation cultivators of Yubak Island.
Even if the latter was dismissed as mere flattery, the former was worth pondering. Samugi's reputation was decent. While he rarely did anything worthy of high praise, he also never did anything that invited criticism. At the very least, there were no rumors of him making enemies or committing crimes.
Whether his nature was truly gentle and averse to conflict, or if he was simply so meticulous in his dealings that he left no loose ends, was impossible to know. What was certain, however, was that extremely few cultivators on Yubak Island disliked him. That was the key. It was precisely because of this that he could confidently step forward now, claiming to represent the rogue cultivators of Yubak Island.
Of course, just because he stepped forward did not mean the other rogue cultivators immediately rallied under his banner. Rogue cultivators were, by nature, solitary creatures. They might drift together along the current or be swept into the same crowd, but they could never truly unite—unless an overwhelming, irresistible force coerced them into doing so.
Naturally, Samugi was no such entity. All he could do was raise his voice as loudly as possible and plead. Those drawn by his appeals so far were merely individuals who shared personal ties with him, and their numbers were meager.
Because of this, Samugi seemed somewhat disheartened, but Jekyeong believed it was actually a blessing that things had not gone according to the old man's plans. Jekyeong reasoned that if Samugi's instigation had succeeded and a large number of Foundation Establishment cultivators had gathered around him, his head would have been on the chopping block long ago. The sects and noble clans were no fools; they would never leave the 'ringleader' who was openly sharpening a blade against them in peace.
"Fellow Daoist, do not underestimate those cunning old foxes. That fellow Samugi surely anticipated that he would become a thorn in the side of the sects and noble clans."
"Then... you mean he did it intentionally?"
"He was likely taking a gamble. If he dies, that is the end of it, but if he manages to survive, he would instantly establish himself as the true focal point of Yubak Island's rogue cultivators."
"But he failed." The cultivators Samugi had managed to draw in now amounted to a mere six early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators and several dozen late-stage Qi Condensation cultivators. Anyone below that was not even worth noting.
"Is there any point in targeting a failure?"
"Of course. In fact, he is far more valuable precisely because he failed," Myeong-ha replied with a meaningful smile. "Samugi is nothing more than a faint ember. If even such a tiny ember is ruthlessly trampled out, the others will once again bear witness to the oppressive and arrogant tyranny of the sects and noble clans."
"I hope things go as you wish." Jekyeong decided to stop overthinking it. Even though he had been a human in his past life, he felt it was becoming increasingly difficult to fathom the human heart. "Just make sure to pay close attention to the matters we discussed."