Understood
"Understood."
Eliminating Samugi was not a particularly difficult task for Jekyeong. If he chose to launch a surprise attack, he was confident he could end the man's life in a single strike. Even in a direct, head-on confrontation, the fight would likely be over within ten exchanges.
However, Myeong-ha had requested that he conduct this battle as much like a human as possible. To be precise, he wanted Jekyeong to leave behind traces of having used a Dharma Treasure. This was a rather troublesome demand. After all, Jekyeong belonged to the Beast Race, and using a human's Dharma Treasure came with numerous complications.
Dharma Treasures were fundamentally crafted for the Human Race, meaning one required Dharma Power to unleash their full potential. Without it, the treasures would fail to produce their proper effects, or in some cases, refuse to activate at all.
Jekyeong possessed quite a few Dharma Treasures in his inventory. He had over several dozen offensive treasures alone, but a brief test revealed that about a third of them rejected his Monster Power entirely. While he could force his way into using the remaining two-thirds, not a single one could operate at even half its original capacity.
'Since delicate control is out of the question, I should choose something with raw, destructive power.'
Jekyeong selected a spear from the Dharma Treasures stored inside his Jeo-mul-dae. Its shaft was made of reddish-brown wood, while the spearhead was crafted from an unrecognizable material. Though its surface was rough and uneven, as if carved from stone, it possessed the distinct, biting chill of metal. It was a mid-grade Dharma Treasure, though he could no longer recall whose corpse he had looted it from.
Jekyeong had chosen this spear because it contained a trace of fire-attribute energy, making it relatively receptive to his Monster Power. Even so, he could not unleash its true, innate functions; at best, he would only be able to grip it physically to thrust and swing. Jekyeong spent a day lightly handling the weapon to familiarize himself with its weight.
"And Samugi?"
"He is at his estate. Likely instructing his grandson."
"His grandson?"
"His youngest grandson, born late in his life. I hear the boy is exceptionally talented, making him the apple of Samugi's eye. The old man's sudden move this time is undoubtedly connected to him. He must have seen the boy's potential and wanted to pave a smooth path for his future."
It was a common story. In their youth, cultivators burned with the ambition to forge their own destiny, striving toward the immortal path. But once their cultivation stagnated and their vital energy began to decay, they were forced to accept reality. How hollow it must feel to devote one's entire life to the Dao, only to leave behind a name that would be forgotten in a mere handful of years.
Samugi was no exception. His children, lacking any talent for cultivation, had already preceded him in death, and none of his older grandchildren possessed the qualities of a proper cultivator. Only his youngest grandson, born in his twilight years, showed the talent necessary to inherit his legacy.
Affection and expectation for his grandson, coupled with a lingering desire to leave a mark on the world, had spurred the old cultivator into action—a man who had spent his entire life prioritizing self-preservation above all else. For the sake of his grandson and the future of the Sa clan, he sought to establish a solid foundation.
The brewing conflict between the established sects and the rogue cultivators was a golden opportunity. If they could destroy a suitable sect, seizing their blessed lands and heritage, the Sa clan could formally establish itself as a prominent family. And his name, Samugi, would endure alongside the history of the Sa clan long after he was buried in the earth.
"Try again."
"Yes, Grandfather."
A thin thread of spiritual energy emanated from the boy's outstretched fingertip. Though faint, the flow was remarkably delicate and steady. A moment later, the continuous thread wavered unstable before snapping. His breathing ragged, the boy gasped for air, resting his hands on his knees.
"Good." Samugi smiled warmly, nodding in approval. "Keep this in mind: control is far more important than raw output. Only the power you can wield exactly as you wish is truly your own."
"Yes, Grandfather. I will engrave it upon my heart."
"Good. Now, rest. As I always tell you, knowing your limits is crucial. Cultivation that pushes past your limits is nothing more than self-harm."
"Yes."
Beyond his natural intelligence, the boy possessed a composure that far exceeded his years, and it was this very trait that brought a smile to Samugi's face. The world was overflowing with talented youths. Yet, most of them failed to realize that talent did not automatically equate to strength. No matter how excellent the seed, it was meaningless unless it sprouted and bore fruit. Talent that failed to blossom into actual strength was utterly worthless. Furthermore, in a world crowded with towering giants, a newly sprouted bud dared not raise its head too high.
As a rogue cultivator who had reached the Foundation Establishment stage, Samugi understood this truth all too well. He had witnessed countless geniuses throughout his long life, yet the vast majority of them had perished before even crossing the threshold of Foundation Establishment. What killed them was not the hardships of cultivation, but their own hubris. They died because they failed to be cautious when caution was required, and refused to retreat when retreat was necessary.
Alongside cultivation techniques, Samugi imparted his own experiences and the mindset a cultivator must maintain to survive. Fortunately, his grandson did not dismiss his teachings as mere nagging, but took them deeply to heart.
'To think such a blessing would find me in my old age. Is this, too, the will of heaven?'
In his youth, he had never believed in the so-called Heavenly Dao. He had believed that a cultivator was a being who constantly shattered such futile shackles to forge ahead. But now, as he approached the end of his lifespan, his eyes turned toward the heavens he had ignored his entire life. If the grandson he obtained in his twilight years was a gift and a sign from heaven, then the rise of the Sa clan must surely be the will of heaven as well.
'Did I rush too much?'
The more he thought about it, the more regretful he felt. Though his acquaintances had agreed to lend their strength, their combined force was still insufficient to plot against the Mundo Sect.
'I could entice more people by promising them a share of the spoils, but gathering a pack of greedy wolves will only backfire in the long run. I must find another way to make a move.'
Pondering how to deal with the Mundo Sect, which was currently holed up like a turtle in its shell, Samugi made his way toward his cultivation chamber. In the absence of other matters, he usually spent his time cultivating. Although his advanced age and decaying vital energy meant that no amount of effort would improve his strength, he could at least slow down the physical decline. Every single day he managed to endure would allow him to solidify the Sa clan's foundation further. Thus, Samugi approached his cultivation with the same burning passion he had possessed in his youth.
Hum—!
As the restriction at the entrance of the cultivation chamber deactivated, the dense spiritual energy within leaked out slightly.
Boom!
The moment Samugi took a step forward, a massive impact sent him flying backward.
Screeech—!
Even as his mouth fell open in shock from the agonizing pain, Samugi did not miss the terrifying sound of tearing wind. He hastily mobilized his Dharma Power to form a protective barrier, and as an added precaution, instinctively twisted his body.
Crack!
The barrier shattered, and flesh was pierced. Another immense shockwave rippled through Samugi's entire body.
'A spear!'
Samugi recognized the object that had skewered his flank. It was a spear, radiating a searing, oppressive heat.
"Who goes there?!"
Though he knew it was futile, he screamed with all his might. His voice reverberated like thunder throughout the entire estate.
'Please!'
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The Dharma Power he had forcibly summoned violently agitated his vital energy. Samugi glared at the stranger striding toward him from the front. The intruder approached slowly, step by step, as if deliberately granting him time to prepare.
"Run!"
In that split second, his grandson's face flashed in his mind. He prayed that the clever boy would utilize his intelligence to the fullest once more.
Boom!
The Blue Tiger Mallet, a Dharma Treasure that had accompanied him for nearly half his life, hurtled toward the intruder. Yet, with a casual wave of the stranger's hand—as if shooing away a fly—the weapon was deflected, ricocheting back even faster than it had been thrown.
"Aaaaargh!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Samugi lunged forward, kicking off the ground.
A mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. Though highly experienced, his vital energy had decayed, and the Dharma Treasure he wielded was mediocre at best. Yet, Samugi possessed an unyielding fighting spirit, an unwavering Dao heart, and a desperate resolve that disregarded life and death.
Jekyeong knew exactly what was running through Samugi's mind. The old man was worried about his family—specifically, the grandson who was to inherit his legacy. His blood-spat screams had been a desperate attempt to warn them.
But it was a wasted effort. Jekyeong had no intention of harming Samugi's family from the very beginning. His purpose in eliminating Samugi was to incite resentment among the rogue cultivators, which meant he needed survivors to spread the tale. Samugi's surviving family members were the perfect candidates to serve as those voices. Why would Jekyeong ever lay a finger on them?
Thud!
The spear, which had skewered Samugi's flank and embedded itself deep into the chamber wall, flew back into Jekyeong's hand as if drawn by an invisible vacuum.
The weapon embedded in the wall is drawn back into the master's grasp.
"Cough!"
Samugi tried to stop it somehow, but it was impossible for his poorly gathered Dharma Power to interfere with Jekyeong's Weapon Return Formula. Furthermore, his soul was in such a state of disarray that he couldn't even perceive that the energy Jekyeong was utilizing was actually Monster Power.
"Father!"
Just as Jekyeong gripped the spear once more, several panicked voices echoed from the distance. At that sound, Samugi's face, which had been contorted in agony, froze like stone.
"Don't come here! Run!"
He spat out another mouthful of blood as he screamed, desperately forcing his unstable Dharma Power to rise as he lunged forward. Jekyeong humored Samugi, matching his ferocious but empty momentum. From the moment the initial surprise attack succeeded, Samugi's life had essentially been in Jekyeong's hands. Had he wished, he could have pierced the old man's heart in a single strike right then and there.
However, since he needed to stall for a reasonable amount of time to allow the 'mouths' to escape, playing along with this desperate old man for a while was a sound strategy.
Boom! Boom!
Jekyeong sensed dozens of faint auras slowly moving away. Though they were likely fleeing as fast as their legs could carry them, to a Foundation Establishment cultivator, such a distance could be closed in the blink of an eye.
At this moment, Jekyeong felt as though they were nothing more than a handful of ants. The old man persistently clinging to him was no different. They were incredibly ignorant, and utterly insignificant.
'And I, too, must appear the same way in the eyes of someone else.'
Jekyeong kicked away the staggering Samugi, then thrust his spear forward, pinning the old man to the wall. His chest pierced dead center, Samugi could only twitch feebly, utterly incapable of resisting. With both his Dharma Power and vital energy completely depleted, he was already little more than a corpse. The thread of life barely keeping him anchored could snap at any second.
"Your grandson will be safe. At least for now."
"Cough..."
Hearing those words, Samugi's head twitched. He tried desperately to look up, but his lifeless body refused to obey his will.
"Who... are you..."
At that moment, Samugi realized something was amiss. When he was first ambushed, he suspected the Mundo Sect had sent an assassin. But as the battle progressed, an inexplicable sense of incongruity had begun to gnaw at him.
"Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. Go in peace."
Jekyeong could have ended it in silence. Yet, he chose to answer the dying man's question—a small gesture of respect to a fellow cultivator who had burned his life force to the very end.