The Weight of the Core
When the four talismans had burned about halfway, the body of the Lost-Soul Puppet contorted violently, splattering blood. The leaked blood did not fall to the ground; instead, it hovered in midair.
Crunch!
The Lost-Soul Puppet lost all semblance of a human form. It became a distorted lump of flesh, from which blood continuously seeped. The blood floating in the air coalesced and dispersed, shrinking in volume but growing exponentially purer.
Squish!
When the last shred of the puppet's flesh finally dissolved into liquid, the floating blood gathered once more. Though the resulting droplets amounted to a mere three or four drops, their appearance was nothing short of extraordinary. They shone with the brilliance of polished gems and exuded a fragrance as intoxicating as spirit wine. It possessed a bizarre, hypnotic allure that would instantly captivate anyone who laid eyes on it.
"It turned out even more splendid than I anticipated," Myeong-ha murmured, and Jekyeong silently agreed.
"A successful refinement, it seems."
Myeong-ha let out a long sigh and waved his hand, drawing the tiny Blood Beads into a jade vial as if sucked in. "Though, I cannot guarantee its efficacy. As you well know, Fellow Daoist, a Lost-Soul Puppet is hardly a normal cultivator. Since we minimized the side effects as much as possible, the potency of these Blood Beads has likely been compromised to some degree."
Jekyeong took the jade vial and gave it a light sniff. A dizzying scent of blood brushed against his nose, and an inexplicable, gloomy sensation reared its head. Though the feeling vanished in the blink of an eye, it had undeniably washed over his mind, if only for a fleeting second.
'Even with the side effects mitigated... it is still not something to be taken lightly.'
He could understand why. As Myeong-ha had pointed out, even the miraculous elixirs that cultivators treasured carried their own risks and impurities. A suspicious, unorthodox item like this would naturally be no exception.
"Let us continue."
"By all means. Would you like to try it yourself?"
At Myeong-ha's invitation, Jekyeong took charge of the ritual. It was far less difficult than he had anticipated; it required nothing more than arranging the talismans and chanting the incantation. Before long, Jekyeong had consumed all the sacrifices, obtaining about ten drops of Blood Beads in total.
"Congratulations on taking another step closer to Core Condensation."
Jekyeong stored the jade vial of Blood Beads in his storage ring and turned to face Myeong-ha. "What about you?"
"Hmm?"
"Do not play dumb. You are a cultivator as well; surely you harbor your own ambitions for Core Condensation."
"Ah, of course. As you say, I am a cultivator, so naturally, I desire it. I may not show it, but I am actually quite desperate." Myeong-ha gave a bitter smile. "However, I have a rather pressing issue to resolve before I can even think about condensing my core."
An issue. Jekyeong paused for a moment, but the realization quickly dawned on him. Yes, this fellow had a massive problem hanging over his head.
"So you are aware. Back on Yubak Island, you looked as if you were possessed by something."
"Indeed." Myeong-ha's expression darkened. The corners of his mouth, which usually curled upward in a habitual smirk, slumped downward.
"No matter how hard I try to maintain my composure, it is no easy feat. It feels as though a voice is constantly whispering in my ear. I do my absolute best to ignore it, but... at some point, I find myself actively listening to it."
"..."
"Well, it is not yet that critical. Once my cultivation level rises and my mind state becomes more resilient, things should improve."
Would it really? Jekyeong was highly skeptical. Long ago, even though Jegu had been a mighty Demon King, had he not served as Taotie's loyal puppet? Whether Jegu had ever possessed the will to resist was unknown, but the fact remained that even a proud Demon King could not escape Taotie's grasp. No matter how extraordinary Myeong-ha might be, it was highly doubtful he could break free from the evil god's influence. If Myeong-ha ever crossed the line from a mere servant to a fanatical worshipper of Taotie, Jekyeong would cut ties with him without a moment's hesitation.
Upon returning to Heukgyodo, Jekyeong rolled the jade vial of Blood Beads in his hand, lost in thought.
'Core Condensation.'
Though he had acquired these Blood Beads—which could technically be classified as a Core Condensation spiritual item—their true efficacy remained an unknown variable. If he could secure other, more reliable spiritual items for his breakthrough, Jekyeong preferred to avoid using these Blood Beads altogether.
'A human's Core Condensing Pill probably won't do me any good.'
Jekyeong reviewed his knowledge of Core Condensation while reflecting on the two breakthroughs he had personally witnessed. One was Chaesan Noyao of the Sangyo Forest, and the other was Myeong-ha. However, since Myeong-ha's breakthrough had been a mere facade, it offered far less practical insight than the former. Thus, Jekyeong focused his mind on recalling the process Chaesan Noyao had undergone.
'Chaesan Noyao was a ghost demon, and the core he sought to form was likely a Ghost Core. Even so, studying his breakthrough is far more valuable than looking at a human's Golden Core.'
A Ghost Core was not identical to a Demon Core, but a ghost demon was still fundamentally part of the Beast Race.
'It was unavoidable, but still a pity.'
Back then, Jekyeong had been a mere Yo-beast, entirely consumed with his own survival. He hadn't had the luxury of closely observing Chaesan Noyao, leaving him with sparse memories of the actual breakthrough. Yet, as he carefully retraced his impressions of that day, a few details began to surface.
'Chaesan Noyao likely gathered the deathly yin energy of the battlefield, using himself as the focal point to condense his core. It is a method unique to ghost cultivators. After all, a physical body holds little meaning to them.'
The path Chaesan Noyao had walked was one Jekyeong could not replicate. Even if he could, he had no desire to. His own robust, massive physical body was his greatest weapon and his ultimate shield; there was no way he would ever discard it.
'Achieve One Qi Penetration, condense the core, and birth the Dharma Seed.'
He felt entirely confident in his ability to achieve One Qi Penetration. Thanks to his colossal physique, the monster power he had accumulated was vastly superior in both quantity and quality compared to other Great Demons. Furthermore, his vessel had not even begun to reach its limits, meaning his reserves would only grow deeper and more formidable with time.
'The problem lies in Core Condensation. Humans can rely on elixirs, and the Beast Race can follow the guidance of their bloodlines, but I must achieve this entirely through my own willpower.'
Though Jekyeong possessed absolute confidence in the strength of his soul, he did not believe he could successfully navigate the grueling process of Core Condensation without any external aid. A spiritual medicine capable of bolstering his soul was an absolute necessity.
'I still have time, so I must search for one by any means necessary. If all else fails... then I will have no choice.'
Jekyeong's gaze lingered on the jade vial in his hand for a long, quiet moment.
Cheongo, currently in human form, and Ju-hyeong walked quietly through the bustling main street of Jaseong Island.
'How chilling.'
It wasn't just because of the rain that had poured all through the night. The grim news filtering in from Yubak Island and several other surrounding territories was the true culprit. The ominous rumors spreading from every corner of the lake had begun to cast a dark shadow over Jaseong Island.
Moreover, Jaseong Island had never been a peaceful place to begin with, constantly plagued by incidents both big and small. The island's economy was heavily reliant on monster hunting, and the demon hunters who engaged in such perilous work were naturally a rough, volatile breed. They caused minor disturbances on a daily basis, and occasionally, they triggered full-blown disasters.
In the past, the leader of the Hyeong-eo Gang had attempted to bring these demon hunters under his control, but his plans fell apart when he met a highly suspicious demise. Since then, various factions had tried to recruit or co-opt the demon hunters, but every single attempt had ended in failure. The bloodthirsty, hardened hunters were not the sort to meekly serve under anyone, and none of the local factions on Jaseong Island possessed the strength or the sheer audacity required to tame them.
Some local leaders even claimed they wanted to recruit the hunters, yet they approached them with deep-seated suspicion and treated them like ticking time bombs. They had evidently swallowed the rumor that the Hyeong-eo Gang leader's death was the work of disgruntled demon hunters. Ju-hyeong, who knew the absolute truth behind that assassination, could only chuckle at their ignorance. Yet, many fools genuinely believed the absurd rumor. Their sheer naivety and paranoia fueled the growing unrest on Jaseong Island, causing the local atmosphere to grow colder and more tense by the day.
"Did you hear? Apparently, another fight broke out yesterday."
"Is there a single day when a fight doesn't break out? Why make a fuss now?"
"No, this time was different. Word is, even Foundation Establishment cultivators got involved."
"What? No way..."
A clash between Foundation Establishment cultivators was on an entirely different level from a brawl between Qi Condensation cultivators. When Qi Condensation cultivators fought, at most a few buildings or streets were damaged. But when Foundation Establishment experts clashed, entire districts were easily reduced to ash. Furthermore, if a Foundation Establishment cultivator perished in battle, it was a catastrophe beyond words. The vast majority of Qi Condensation cultivators possessed no defense against the residual mental pressure of a dying Foundation Establishment master; merely being caught in the spiritual backlash could kill them or drive them permanently insane.
Consequently, low-level cultivators held a deep, instinctual dread of Foundation Establishment masters. Beyond their raw physical might, the terrifying reality that a single strand of a master's spiritual intent could snuff out their lives made them view Foundation Establishment cultivators as beings from an entirely different dimension. This psychological gap was particularly pronounced among rogue cultivators, who rarely had the opportunity to interact with high-level masters.
Conversely, those who belonged to prominent sects and clans—or those who had Foundation Establishment masters as mentors or family members—harbored far less of this blind, mystical awe. Ju-hyeong fell into this latter category. Because he met and spoke directly with his superior, Han Cheong-yu, at least once a month, his fear of Foundation Establishment cultivators was relatively mild. Of course, a lack of paralyzing fear did not mean a lack of respect. In fact, because he observed them so closely, the burning desire in his heart to reach that realm was far greater than that of any ordinary Qi Condensation cultivator.
'Foundation Establishment. Will I ever have my chance?'
Because he had diligently executed his duties without ever neglecting his cultivation, his late-stage Qi Condensation foundation had finally stabilized. Once he took another step to reach the peak of his current realm, and then pressed forward to stand before the Foundation Establishment Barrier... he would have to make a choice. He would either have to risk his life to break through, or halt his path forever.
'Having cultivated this far, I cannot simply turn back without even attempting the climb.'
Ju-hyeong was not entirely sure if he possessed a true Dao Heart. If a Dao Heart meant what the world commonly described—an unshakeable, thousand-year-old boulder of pure resolve that remained completely unaffected by any external storm—then he certainly lacked one. But if a Dao Heart could be defined as a burning, insatiable yearning for the immortal path, then Ju-hyeong believed he possessed one in spades. He craved Foundation Establishment, a hunger that intensified every single time he looked upon Han Cheong-yu.
'I can secure a Meridian-Protecting Pill somehow. But a Foundation Establishment Pill...'
For a diligent and capable rogue cultivator, obtaining a single Meridian-Protecting Pill was not an impossible feat, provided they spent several years steadily earning and saving spirit stones. Thus, most rogue cultivators would secure one such pill to guarantee a sliver of a lifeline before throwing themselves against the gates of fate—while the truly desperate risked their lives to attempt the breakthrough without even that safety net.
Attempting the breakthrough without a Foundation Establishment Pill, however, was a gamble of pure talent, technique, and raw luck. The success rate was abysmally low. With fewer than one in a hundred succeeding, the Foundation Establishment Barrier was not called a "barrier" for nothing. To rogue cultivators, this threshold was like a decree of heaven itself—an insurmountable wall they were rarely permitted to even gaze upon, let alone cross.
On the other hand, those backed by powerful factions lived in an entirely different reality. They could challenge the barrier with a Meridian-Protecting Pill in hand, and if fortune favored them, the invaluable aid of a Foundation Establishment Pill. Though its efficacy varied depending on the grade of the medicine, a Foundation Establishment Pill could boost one's chances of success by several tens of percent while guaranteeing a safe retreat in case of failure. It was, without a doubt, a sacred treasure of humanity. The only problem was its exorbitant price—and the fact that without proper connections, it was virtually impossible to acquire even if one possessed a mountain of spirit stones.
But Ju-hyeong was different. Because he possessed a powerful backer, he did not view the Foundation Establishment Pill as an unattainable dream like other rogue cultivators did. Had his direct superior, Han Cheong-yu, not been personally bestowed a Foundation Establishment Pill by the Dragon Lord? Perhaps a similar stroke of fortune might find its way to him as well.
'It won't be easy, though.'
Ju-hyeong assessed his circumstances with cold rationality. He was currently bound by a Blood Covenant, and the one holding his leash was not the Dragon Lord himself, but his direct superior, Han Cheong-yu. Since Han Cheong-yu was his immediate handler, whether Ju-hyeong would even be permitted to attempt the breakthrough depended entirely on Han Cheong-yu's whim. If his superior gave the nod, he could make the attempt—perhaps even with generous financial backing. But if Han Cheong-yu refused, Ju-hyeong would be forced to watch his years slip away in vain, forever stranded before the gates of the Foundation Establishment Barrier.
'A difficult man to read. Truly difficult.'
Having served as Han Cheong-yu's right-hand man ever since they established their foothold on Jaseong Island, Ju-hyeong knew all too well that his superior was a highly complex individual. It wasn't that Han Cheong-yu was greedy or capricious; if he were, things would actually be much simpler. Ju-hyeong could have easily flattered his way into the man's good graces. No, Han Cheong-yu was the textbook definition of a cultivator with an "unyielding Dao Heart." Aside from diligently executing his assigned missions, he spent every waking hour immersed in cultivation. It was no exaggeration to say he cared for absolutely nothing else. As a superior, he was a double-edged sword—neither exceptionally benevolent nor actively malicious.