A Predetermined Play
"Well then, this old man shall take his leave." With those words, U Do-baek departed.
After his departure, the cultivators who had been steeped in silence began to leave one by one.
"Senior Choi. I didn't expect to see you here." Among the few who remained until the very end were Jekyeong and Choi Ju-tang. Jekyeong found Choi Ju-tang's presence unexpected. Shouldn't he be busy working himself to the bone for his family and children right now?
"It's Senior U's final farewell, so of course I had to come. I have at least that much affection in me."
"I see." That might be part of it, but it certainly wasn't the only reason.
"By the way..." Sure enough, Choi Ju-tang soon brought up his real business.
"About this war... it seems the Core Formation cultivators are hesitant to get involved. Am I correct?"
Though he said 'Core Formation,' what Choi Ju-tang really wanted to know was whether a Demon King would join the fray. Just as the humans, who had been miserably pushed back, turned the tide with the intervention of the two major Golden Core sects, he likely feared that the retreating Yao would try to reverse the situation by sending in a Demon King.
If he had the misfortune of encountering a Demon King—specifically, the Jansu Whale King—on a battlefield he had joined in hopes of making a fortune, he would be hard-pressed to even keep his life, let alone strike it rich.
"Well, I wouldn't know. At the very least, I won't be getting involved."
"Mmm..." Choi Ju-tang groaned quietly. He looked as if he had many more questions, but he did not dare ask them. Just because the other party called him 'Senior' did not mean he should actually try to act like one. Their current relationship was maintained entirely due to the other's generosity, and he did not want to displease this 'Dragon Lord junior' in the slightest.
"I see." Choi Ju-tang seemed lost in thought. If this had been his physical body instead of his spiritual body, one would have seen his eyes darting around with unsightly speed.
"Then, I shall take my leave." Jekyeong had absolutely no interest in what Choi Ju-tang was thinking. His attendance today was solely to pay his respects to U Do-baek. Now that his business was concluded, he had to devote himself to cultivation once more.
The final farewell shared with U Do-baek left a lingering resonance in Jekyeong's heart. Life and death, meeting and parting, beginning and end—all were inevitable. They could be called rules, principles, or providence. Cultivators were inherently beings who shattered these shackles to forge ahead, but that was merely a definition. In the end, even a cultivator was a living soul.
Even the most intense moment is but a small step on a long, continuous path.
U Do-baek had given up on running forward out of fear that he might never be able to stand again. Thinking about it, it was almost laughable. Did that not mean he could only summon the courage to move forward when recovery and safety were guaranteed? Could such a thing even be called courage?
Yet, Jekyeong could not mock U Do-baek. Who could mock him? If one day time caught up to them, and even taking a single step became a precarious endeavor, who could confidently claim they would bravely forge ahead? Ultimately, unless one stood in the exact same position, true understanding was impossible. Thus, there were very few in this world who had the right to laugh at U Do-baek.
Jekyeong had originally intended to immerse himself in meditative cultivation as soon as he returned from Bul-mang-won, but his mind was restless, and he could hardly find the motivation.
Every day, I forget and realize the exact same thing.
Who did not know that the path of cultivation lay in valiant and tireless progress? Everyone knew. Even naive children who had not yet embarked on cultivation likely knew it. Yet, they forgot every single time. And then, one day, they would realize it as if learning it for the very first time, rejoicing as though they had taken a giant leap toward the Great Dao. Then, at some point, they would forget again. Was this stagnation, or was it regression?
Perhaps it is neither. What if it was not forgetfulness, but accumulation? What if one shattered all past realizations to scatter them like fertilizer, preparing the soil for the realizations that would return later? Viewed that way, each subsequent realization could be said to be clearer and grander than the last. Yes, it could indeed be considered progress.
The heart of a living soul is a fleeting thing, and courage is no different.
It was fine for the mind to grow dull or even crumble. If one simply stood up and moved forward again, was that not also progress?
"Fuuu." A heavy breath of turbid qi escaped him. His heart grew tranquil, and his mind seemed to clear. This sensation was no illusion. Jekyeong could actually feel the demonic obsession, which had begun to squirm slightly some time ago, being suppressed once more.
Senior U. You help me even in your final moments.
Since stones existed on this mountain and that mountain alike, any of them could be used as a whetstone. In his heart, Jekyeong recorded a debt under U Do-baek's name. If an opportunity to repay this debt ever arose, he would not hesitate to grant a favor.
"Jekyeong! Jekyeong! Aren't you meditating today?"
"Yes. I've been meditating so continuously that the efficiency seems to have dropped a bit."
"Efficiency? Efficiency?"
Jekyeong rested with Cheongo's talkative chirping as background music. Of course, even though it was a rest, he wasn't simply lying down and swallowing spiritual fruits. He thoroughly reviewed the various human inheritance records that Hyeongu had brought back. First and foremost, he focused on the sections related to alchemy, but there were quite a few other things that caught his interest.
Astrology...
Stars did exist in the sky of this world. However, while some were genuine stars, there were also many celestial bodies of unknown nature. Bul-mang-won was one such example. In addition to stars, the sky of this world was filled with minor worlds like Bul-mang-won, as well as all manner of bizarre phenomena. Therefore, observing the heavens required extreme caution. If one accidentally looked at something they shouldn't, the consequences could easily go far beyond mere blindness.
Though inheritances are often records of past failures, astrology seems particularly severe.
Astrology was both a technique and a record. It documented what was safe to observe and what was forbidden, helping future generations avoid danger.
"The heavens are divided into seventy-two tiers. He who seeks to glimpse the secrets of heaven must maintain a solemn heart and prioritize the avoidance of peril above all else."
Jekyeong repeatedly pondered this maxim, which was mentioned in almost every record. The human ancestors unanimously emphasized extreme caution, which alone was enough to hint at how dangerous the inheritance of astrology truly was.
In terms of deciphering the secrets of heaven, it seems to overlap somewhat with divination.
As a layman, Jekyeong could not clearly distinguish the difference between the two, but he had a vague inkling.
It is intriguing, but for me to learn it directly...
Others might laugh if they heard it, but Jekyeong prided himself on being a highly cautious, safety-first individual. Whether it was astrology or divination, they were undoubtedly useful, but the accompanying risks were equally clear. He had no desire to bear such risks himself.
It is just like arrays. I do not need to learn it myself to make use of it.
Jekyeong did not overcomplicate things. If something was dangerous, he could simply delegate it to someone else. Was this not the wise way of division of labor?
Because the war had broken out, the procurement of materials from the Human Territory had been delayed. Nevertheless, Han Cheongyu did his best, and although the original deadline had passed, he managed to send over reasonably decent goods.
"Dragon Lord. As I mentioned before, in order to stably control the spiritual energy of the spiritual vein..."
"It is fine. I do not care about outward appearances."
Hyeongu began the installation of the Spirit Gathering Array. First, he erected altars across the island and positioned the array flags one by one. Then, he had the humans erect several massive pillars, which would also serve to support the new Black Cult Palace. Hyeongu embedded the array flags directly into those pillars. According to his design, the Black Cult Palace itself would become part of a massive Spirit Gathering Array.
It was a clever trick, but also an inevitable choice. Hyeongu's attainment in arrays was still insufficient to install a Spirit Gathering Array capable of controlling a spiritual vein on his own, so he had no choice but to rely on tools to make up for his shortcomings. However, such tools—namely, high-quality array flags—were not easy to obtain. Despite Han Cheongyu's best efforts, the array flags he sent did not reach that standard.
Thus, Hyeongu chose the next best option. If quality was lacking, he would make up for it with quantity. By embedding multiple array flags at once to amplify their function, he could compensate. While this method was inefficient and inapplicable to complex arrays requiring precise functions, it could be used as a makeshift solution for simple arrays like the Spirit Gathering Array, where the role of the array flags was straightforward.
Wuuung! The installation of the array was completed quickly. A far denser spiritual energy began to flow through the spacious site of the Black Cult Palace, where only a few pillars had been erected. It was thick enough that a light mist of spiritual energy began to form.
"Excellent. You have done well." Feeling the spiritual energy within the Spirit Gathering Array, Jekyeong nodded in satisfaction and commended Hyeongu.
Hyeongu, whose face was caked with fatigue from working tirelessly for days to install the array, seemed to gain strength from that single word of praise. He offered further suggestions regarding the future construction of the Black Cult Palace. His advice was mainly to avoid damaging the pillars acting as array flags or erecting other pillars in between, which might disrupt the alignment of the array.
"You shall participate in the construction of the palace as well." Hearing this, Jekyeong simply entrusted the entire construction of the Black Cult Palace to Hyeongu. In truth, Jekyeong didn't care much about a palace. He would have been perfectly fine even if it remained in its current state with only a few pillars standing. After all, what he needed was the Spirit Gathering Array, not a grand-looking palace. However, since both Hyeongu and Cheongo insisted on the necessity of a palace, Jekyeong went along with it.
While the Spirit Gathering Array was being installed and the grand palace was being built in the Seongya Archipelago, battles of various scales raged outside day after day. Under the command of the two major Golden Core sects, the humans launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming almost all of their lost territory. Not content with that, they seemed poised to invade the Yao territory as well.
"How insolent!" But that momentum was short-lived. As the Jansu Whale King led the Yao forces of the Whale King Palace into the war, the tide of battle fluctuated wildly once more.
"Whale King, restrain yourself!" With the Jansu Whale King taking the field, the Golden Core cultivators of the human race also stepped forward. Hahou Jang and Je Rim-so blocked the Jansu Whale King, who had appeared in the middle of the battlefield. Rebuking each other as lawless and insolent, they ultimately clashed in a fierce battle.
After fighting for two full days, neither side could gain the upper hand and both retreated. Consequently, the war entered a lull. Although sporadic skirmishes still broke out in various regions, the fervor of the main battlefield, where the armies of both races were concentrated, cooled down as if doused with ice water.
"Boss. Do you think the war will end like this?"
"If I knew that, would I be hanging around with you guys?" Though he spoke dismissively, Ju-hyeong naturally knew the truth. From the very beginning, this war was nothing more than a play with a predetermined beginning and end.