A New Art and Rising Storms

Besides, whether it was a name or a Daoist name, the character for "Ghost" wasn't attached for nothing. A Ghost Cultivator was synonymous with a Heretic Cultivator, so it wouldn't be strange no matter what cruel and insidious deeds they committed. This was not mere prejudice, but a fact proven countless times throughout the long history of the cultivation world. On the first day, it was speculation; on the next, suspicion; and on the day after that, absolute certainty. It was only natural that the Human Territory was thrown into an uproar.

“First it was a Demon King, and now it's a Ghost King?”

“There is truly never a quiet day in this Yangseo Lake!”

Normally, the wiping out of the Human Race across four water territories might spark some rumors, but it wouldn't be considered a major event capable of shaking the entire Human Territory. However, when this incident became linked to a newly emerged Core Formation cultivator—and a Ghost Cultivator who seemed highly likely to become an archenemy of the Human Race at that—the Human Territory naturally fell into a state of agitation.

'Where there are people, there are always calculations.'

Myeong-ha, the Thousand-Faced Ghost King who had recently become the central figure of Yangseo Lake, wore a faint, cold smile as he chewed over the current state of the Human Territory, which he had gathered through his Lost-Soul Puppets.

While it was true that he had unleashed the so-called Ghost Fog to sweep away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the humans of the four water territories, the rumors currently circulating in the Human Territory felt considerably exaggerated. He was certain that someone was actively fanning the flames, and he had a good guess as to who those instigators were. When external enemies are powerful, the weak naturally shrink back and flock to the strong who can protect them. Looked at that way, the answer was simple, wasn't it?

'The two great Golden Core sects... it seems they can barely look after themselves now.'

Exaggerating his title as the Thousand-Faced Ghost King and heightening the sense of crisis was likely intended not only to rally the Human Race under their banner but also to draw the attention of the Cultivator Alliance. Since the influence of the Human Race in Yangseo Lake had waned, they probably wanted to stabilize the situation even if it meant dragging in support from the Cultivator Alliance. The fact that those who had previously tried so hard to reduce the Alliance's influence were now reversing their stance... meant they had become just that anxious.

'The Cultivator Alliance.'

After achieving Core Formation, Myeong-ha had gained confidence. He believed that there were few things within Yangseo Lake that could truly trouble him now. But the Cultivator Alliance was different. If they truly took an interest in Yangseo Lake's situation and went so far as to intervene...

'Well, what does it matter?'

Whether the Cultivator Alliance would actually pay attention to Yangseo Lake, how much interest they would show if they did, and whether they would intervene were all merely uncertain futures. Besides, even if they did step forward, when on earth would that be? Perhaps they would only stroll in to clean up the mess after the two local giants of Yangseo Lake had completely collapsed. And above all else...

“I understand. Of course, this is only the beginning.”

The master he served had already tasted sweetness. Since that being was still demanding more offerings from him even now, how could he afford to dally?

'Ghost Fog? Not bad. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠As expected of the Human Race, who love naming things, they gave it a plausible name. The title Thousand-Faced Ghost King felt awkward at first, but hearing it over and over, it doesn't seem so bad.'

'Where should I target next?'

Yangseo Lake was laid out across a wide stone table. Countless water territories, the factions occupying them, and brief information on cultivators worth keeping an eye on. Myeong-ha's glistening gaze swept rapidly over it all, and he soon selected a suitable target. Yet, despite having made his choice internally, he exercised patience. There was no need to move immediately when the humans were on high alert.

“Yes. I am merely biding my time. To catch large prey, one needs caution in addition to preparation.”

Myeong-ha placated his endlessly urging master with soothing words.

'It is truly not easy.'

Was this boiling greed his own, or his master's? Well, either way, there was no difference.

Myeong-ha felt as though his mind was enveloped in the Ghost Fog. In this situation, the best he could do was to remain still. To watch with open eyes, yet stand perfectly still without taking a single step forward. What made this possible was his firm reason and patience. Although he couldn't prevent himself from constantly wavering and leaning toward temptation, he had managed to maintain a decent state so far.

A small wisp of Ghost Fog rose above the stone table. It bloomed from a tiny point of light representing the Heukgyo Water Territory and crept slowly toward the Human Territory.

“This is only the beginning. You will surely be satisfied.”

Myeong-ha did not know what he was saying, or even if he was speaking at all. No, it would be more accurate to say he did not want to know.

'I am still sane. In this state, I can easily hold out for another five hundred years.'

Five hundred years was by no means a short time. It would be more than enough to keep his master's mouth entertained while aiming for the Nascent Soul stage. If it wasn't enough... No, that couldn't be.

“Yes. Half a year will be enough. Or perhaps three months wouldn't be bad either. By then, those humans will have let their guard down to some extent, won't they?”

A quiet monologue drifted over the stone table, which was now completely covered in Ghost Fog.

Jekyeong stared at the alchemical cauldron, which was shaking precariously as if it might burst at any moment.

“Shouldn't you open it?”

“Not yet.”

Cheongo, who was mimicking an assistant after watching him a few times, asked if it was about time to open the cauldron, but Jekyeong flatly refused. His Divine Sense could perceive the situation inside the cauldron—specifically, the surging fire energy—much more clearly than before.

The fire energy currently heating the cauldron seemed to grow increasingly fierce to the eye, but in reality, it was in an extremely stable state. The spiritual herbs inside the cauldron had already melted and blended completely, but their medicinal efficacy could still be pushed a bit higher. This might seem like a hair's breadth of difference, but it was precisely that hair's breadth that separated the mediocre from the good, and the good from the masterpiece.

Pff!

The moment the stably maintained fire energy began to waver, Jekyeong opened the cauldron without a moment's hesitation. A pale smoke carrying a rich medicinal fragrance wafted out, revealing several alchemical pills neatly arranged inside the cauldron. Enveloped in his tightly controlled Monster Power, they floated into the air and flew into Jekyeong's hand.

“Ooh!”

“How is it?”

Jekyeong did not answer. Instead, as one pill flew in front of Cheongo, the bird swallowed it in a single gulp as if it had been waiting for this exact moment, and immediately wore a satisfied expression.

“Judging by your reaction, it seems my skills haven't rusted yet.”

“Mm. Not bad.”

Even if a pill designed to unlock spirituality and refine Dharma Power was meant for the Human Race, the Beast Race could still benefit from it to some extent. Thus, it was only natural that it was not bad. This greedy crow lacked eloquence and could only offer such a dry expression, but this batch of pills was clearly far beyond just not bad. No matter how objectively one looked at it, they were easily of high quality.

'Even though I left the cauldron cold for quite a long time, my hands haven't grown rusty. In fact, it feels somewhat easier. Is it because my skill in manipulating fire has improved?'

Alchemy could be considered a comprehensive cultivation art. To deeply understand alchemy meant having a profound comprehension of the Dao of Medicine and the Dao of Fire, along with all sorts of other related fields. Why was alchemy considered the pinnacle among the many cultivation arts?

First, because it was incredibly useful, and second, because it was exceptionally difficult. Heating a cauldron and throwing in ingredients was easy, but producing a decent result was hard, which was why a proper alchemist was naturally highly respected.

Pff! Pff! Pff!

Jekyeong opened the cauldron again and again over the course of an entire month. Each time, he refined different types of pills, all of Rank 2 or higher, and not once did the quality drop below mid-grade. With this level of skill, he could easily make a name for himself as a master alchemist anywhere in Yangseo Lake.

'Rank 3 pill recipes...'

After various trials during this period, Jekyeong finally gained about twenty percent confidence that he could refine Rank 3 pills. With sufficient practice and training, even higher would be possible. However, to do that, he first needed a Rank 3 pill recipe.

'It won't be easy.'

Jekyeong let out a soft sigh.

Obtaining a pill recipe wouldn't be incredibly difficult. Of course, it wouldn't be easy either, but if he set his mind to it, he could get one somehow. The real problem lay after obtaining the recipe. Although most medicinal principles were similar, the crucial part was the ingredients. If the recipe originated from Yangseo Lake, he could obtain even the rarest ingredients, but if it came from some nameless cultivation realm far away...

'I've already done it before. Even if it gets a bit harder, there's no way I can't achieve it.'

Yes. He could do it. Though he didn't know how long it would take.

Jekyeong lost track of time. His life was filled with various forms of cultivation, and the flow of the outside world was engraved in his mind just enough not to forget, through Hyeon-gu's occasional reports.

Lately, Jekyeong had been focusing his efforts on modifying his cultivation art. Though he called it a modification, it was no exaggeration to say it was practically a re-creation. Even after the first three cultivation arts he had obtained, he had acquired several more, but most of them were mediocre. They possessed almost no noteworthy characteristics, and their only advantage and feature was that they allowed cultivation up to the Golden Core realm.

Using the Nine Provinces Myth as the foundation of his primary cultivation art, Jekyeong began to design a technique suited to him. He had done similar work a few times before, but this time was far more earnest. If his previous adjustments to cultivation arts were simple modifications where he only tweaked parts of them, this time was literally a re-creation.

To achieve this, Jekyeong comprehended the cultivation arts in his possession for over ten years, and continued his meditation for a similar duration. This process was akin to painting a picture in his mind. However, this painting did not remain on paper; it was more exquisite and complex than any living creature. His enlightenment was constantly tested, and he was frequently seized by delusion. Drawing an extremely complex painting—one where a single misplaced brushstroke would ruin the entire piece—was a massive burden in itself.

But today, Jekyeong finally lifted his hand from the brush he had held for so long.

He replaced the nine pillars, which were the core of the Nine Provinces Myth, with nine tribulations to establish bottlenecks, and added the majesty of a dragon to the nature of the technique, which had previously been purely of the fire attribute. Each time he overcame a tribulation, he would undergo a violent change, similar to shedding. However, because the transformation through a tribulation was far more comprehensive than shedding, which primarily affected the physical body, it was no exaggeration to call it a metamorphosis.

Nine tribulations. Nine metamorphoses. Once he underwent all of them, he would ascend to the heavens, which was none other than the Nascent Soul stage.

Of course, this was still a blueprint. While the overall concept was established, Jekyeong had actually completed only up to the third tribulation, with the rest being merely a slightly detailed sketch. Though it was only a third of the way, this was enough for now. Deducing any further at this point would not only be inefficient but also dangerous.

Deducing a cultivation art was like standing still and looking far into the distance to find a path. To see further, one shouldn't force themselves to stand on tiptoe; rather, they should walk a certain distance along the path already secured by their eyes before raising their head once more.

Rumble!

Eyes that had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been closed for a long time slowly opened. As Jekyeong leisurely stepped out of the Black Cult Palace, Hyeon-gu, who was already waiting outside, bowed his head deeply and cried out.