Secrets Beneath the Current
'The chances are slim, though.' They say two tigers cannot share a single mountain. Spiritual treasures were much the same. It wasn't because these treasures possessed a sense of territory or rivalry, but rather because the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was limited, which naturally restricted the number of such treasures that could form. Although this Spiritual Spring was quite large, the fact that a treasure like the Medicinal Water already existed made the likelihood of another spiritual treasure being here incredibly low. Still, low probability did not mean impossible. Jekyeong decided to scout the area anyway, using the opportunity to map the underwater geography and understand the local ecology.
"I'll be back. Keep watch." Jekyeong glanced at Cheongo, who was fast asleep on a branch of the wood-element tree, before slipping back into the water.
In the end, Jekyeong found nothing. However, the excursion wasn't entirely fruitless. He managed to map the boundaries of the Spiritual Spring—essentially, the limits of the deceased catfish's former territory. There was a zone where the spiritual energy of the spring grew noticeably faint, and just beyond that border, he could sense the presence of several aquatic Yo-beasts. They lingered just outside, as if blocked by an invisible wall, yet they refused to leave. Sensing their lingering, covetous gazes, Jekyeong instinctively knew that he would have to face them sooner or later.
'But not right now.' Jekyeong suppressed the urge to cross the boundary and hunt a few of them down immediately. At some point, a fierce combative instinct had begun to swell within his heart. It was likely a psychological shift driven by his nature as a Yo-beast. While he didn't view this change as inherently good or bad, he knew it required strict control. Otherwise, how would he be any different from a mindless beast?
'My digestion has gotten much faster.' He could feel the flesh and blood of the catfish Yo-beast melting rapidly in his stomach. Although the catfish had not quite reached the level of a Great Yo-beast, it had been close, a powerful ruler of its own territory. Initially, Jekyeong had expected the digestion process to take a considerable amount of time. He had even considered entering a deep slumber to process it, relying on Cheongo and the wood-element tree to guard him, knowing he needed to finish digesting before any invaders came to challenge him. But that was no longer necessary. After the Medicinal Water refined his constitution, his digestive capabilities had taken a massive leap forward. At this rate, he would completely assimilate the catfish's flesh and blood within two to three days.
'Once that's done, will I be able to reach the threshold of a Great Yo-beast?' It would probably fall slightly short. Just because he had devoured the catfish's flesh didn't mean he could directly inherit its entire cultivation realm.
'It's fine. This is already fast enough.' Jekyeong was highly satisfied with his cultivation speed. When he thought about it, how long had it been since he hatched from his egg? Had it even been a year? Although the cultivation speeds of the Beast Race varied wildly depending on species and circumstances, Jekyeong's current strength was already equivalent to the mid-stage of Qi Condensation in human terms. It was a terrifyingly rapid progression, and now he was already aiming for the late stage. If anyone else were to find out, they would be utterly shocked.
Of course, this astonishing speed was largely due to the unique traits of Yo-beasts. Unlike human cultivators who had to balance various complex factors, Yo-beasts at this stage only needed to focus on their vital energy. Their entire cultivation consisted of constantly growing and strengthening their vital energy to forge a mighty physical vessel.
'Though what comes after won't be so simple.' Just as a human Qi Condensation cultivator underwent a qualitative transformation where their internal spiritual energy became Dharma Power upon reaching Foundation Establishment, a Yo-beast had to undergo a similar metamorphosis to become a Great Yo-beast.
'The problem is, I don't know what that transformation entails.' Even the senior cultivators of the Mansi Assembly knew next to nothing about this process. They had rough theories, but they were merely speculative and far from reliable. Ultimately, Jekyeong would have to figure out how to become a Great Yo-beast on his own.
'But it's too early to worry about that.' This impatience was the byproduct of his rapid growth. Becoming accustomed to such abnormal progress made him view distant milestones as if they were right before his eyes.
'There's no need to rush. As long as I don't stop, that's enough.' Calming his racing thoughts, Jekyeong swam leisurely against the current. And so, time flowed on.
A mean-looking demon fish, a tyrant of the river, glared fiercely at a large boulder. After staring down the rock for a long moment as if engaged in a silent duel, it suddenly opened its maw and spat a stream of dark, murky liquid. The black fluid shot forward with incredible speed, and the moment it struck the boulder, a sizzling sound echoed as acrid smoke began to rise.
Suddenly, the boulder seemed to squirm. Deep cracks spiderwebbed across its surface as it split and separated. A small crevice parted vertically, revealing a pair of yellow pupils. Elongated fragments reshaped themselves into massive claws, while the largest chunk morphed into a sturdy carapace. The transition from a massive boulder to a giant crab took less than a single breath.
The crab, now in its true form, locked eyes with the demon fish. Neither made a sound, but the air between them crackled with fierce hostility. In an instant, they clashed. The crab was incredibly durable, while the fish possessed blinding speed. The fish's attacks failed to pierce the demon crab's thick shell, and the crab was too slow to catch the agile fish. With their respective strengths perfectly countering each other's weapons, the battle ground to a stalemate. Yet, neither backed down, determined to settle the score through sheer endurance if their weapons failed them.
Right then—
"ROOOAAAR!"
A thunderous roar reverberated from the very bottom of the riverbed. As if by magic, the fish and the crab froze mid-strike. Their locked gazes instantly snapped downward toward the source of the roar. The fierce hostility that had filled their eyes vanished, replaced by a profound, paralyzing terror. Without a second thought, both beasts scattered in opposite directions, fleeing for their lives.
Similar scenes were playing out all across the river. Every demon and Yo-beast that heard the roar scrambled to escape. They looked like prey fleeing from an apex predator—and indeed, they were. They were running from the undisputed tyrant of these waters. This had become a daily occurrence of late.
After the catfish, the original ruler of the river, vanished, all sorts of aquatic Water Beasts that had previously been suppressed by its majesty began to creep into the waters. They were warily testing the waters of the demon serpent that had slain the catfish and claimed the river. Since only a few land-dwelling Yo-beasts and demons had witnessed the serpent slay the catfish, the aquatic beasts did not initially realize that the serpent was their new master. They only learned this truth through the sacrifice of one of their own.
Having realized the catfish was gone, that particular Water Beast had been the first to enter the river, acting as if it owned the place. Eventually, guided by instinct, it wandered into the area where the spiritual energy was densest... and there, it crossed paths with the serpent.
At first glance, the Water Beast sensed that the serpent was no ordinary opponent, but it didn't think much of it. It assumed the serpent was just another opportunist trying to claim a piece of the masterless river. Thus, it attempted to assert dominance with a light provocation—the beastly equivalent of a hostile glare and a low growl. In the world of Water Beasts, this was merely a rough greeting. Even if tempers flared slightly, they would usually just snarl at each other before going their separate ways.
But the serpent was different. The moment it was provoked, it bared its hideous fangs and lunged. Though startled, the Water Beast fought back, but it was quickly driven into a corner. The serpent was massive, possessing strength that matched its size, and it was terrifyingly fast to boot. Realizing it was outmatched, the Water Beast conceded defeat and tried to flee. Normally, even if the victor could easily give chase, they would let the loser go. Chasing down an opponent that had already surrendered was usually more trouble than it was worth.
Snuffing out another creature's life was no simple task. No beast would quietly offer its neck when faced with death; they would fight back with desperate, suicidal ferocity. Forcing a cornered beast to fight to the death carried significant risks even for the stronger party. This was why, in battles that weren't strictly for food, beasts rarely fought to the bitter end.
Yet, the serpent was different. It relentlessly pursued the retreating Water Beast, engaging in a bloody struggle until it tore the creature apart and devoured it alive. Watching its own flesh being ripped away and swallowed, the Water Beast shrieked in agony until its final breath. The surrounding Water Beasts heard those desperate cries clearly, and some even witnessed the gruesome spectacle from afar. Rather than simple fear, they felt a strange, inexplicable sensation. Was it alienation? A chilling unease? Whatever it was, they were still instinctively drawn to the scent of blood.
One was dead, and the other was injured. This was precisely why beasts avoided fighting to the death unless it was for prey. An injured, weakened victor risked becoming prey for someone else. And now, the serpent was in that exact vulnerable state. Enticed by the thick scent of blood, another Water Beast slithered close and launched a surprise attack. But the serpent did not retreat. It fought back with equal ferocity. Another brutal clash ensued, and once again, the serpent emerged victorious. This time, it didn't even give the opponent a chance to flee, snapping its neck in an instant. And once again, as if to put on a show for the watching onlookers, it devoured its crippled foe alive right then and there.
It was a level of sheer savagery rarely seen among Water Beasts—or indeed, any Yo-beasts. Such a temperament had nothing to do with being strong or weak. The serpent's extraordinary brutality thoroughly cowed the other Water Beasts. Though a few still stared with eyes glittering with bloodlust, none dared to pounce on the wounded serpent. On the contrary, whenever the serpent's slit pupils swept over them, they shivered and shrank back. Perhaps they hoped some brave, impatient fool would step forward first, but until the serpent finally left, no such brave soul appeared.
The serpent's first impression was incredibly striking. Even so, the beasts did not yet realize that this serpent was the new master of the river. While its savagery was intense, they did not sense the same overwhelming power from it that they had from the catfish. The natural aura of majesty that exuded from a being close to a Great Yo-beast was absent in the serpent. Its ferocity was shocking, yes, and it had overwhelmed the crowd, but that was merely the shock of the unexpected. Had they known the serpent was so vicious beforehand, the other Water Beasts would never have let the wounded creature leave so easily. And had they known it was the new master of the river, they certainly wouldn't have stood idly by.
As the ruler of the river, the catfish's reign had been absolute and unyielding. It tolerated no other Water Beasts within its territory, which had long bred resentment among the beasts coveting the river's rich spiritual energy. Occasionally, some disgruntled beasts would gather their courage and trespass, but the catfish would ruthlessly drive them out, killing several in the process. After a few such bloody lessons, the Water Beasts had no choice but to abandon their greed. Their desire to enter the territory was, after all, merely a wish to live in a place with better resources. If they had to risk their lives just to cross the border, who would dare try?
Had they possessed even a shred of cunning, they might have banded together to overthrow the catfish. Unfortunately, most Water Beasts were simple-minded creatures. Unless they inherited a special bloodline or evolved into a Great Yo-beast, concepts like "schemes" or "strategies" were entirely foreign to them. Thus, aided by the simple minds of his subjects and his own overwhelming strength, the catfish had maintained a stable reign over the river for a very long time. Had it not crossed paths with a serpent that seemed to drop out of thin air one day, its iron-fisted rule would have continued for much longer.
But there were no "what-ifs" in this world, and a new master had claimed the river that every Water Beast coveted. However, though this new master had slain the catfish, he did not seem stronger than his predecessor—in fact, he appeared weaker. Naturally, the Water Beasts, who had spent years keeping their heads down under the catfish's oppressive presence, began to lift their gazes once more. Had the serpent tried to mimic the catfish and claim the entire river as his domain, they would have torn him to shreds in an instant. But the serpent did not do that. Instead of claiming the entire river, he confined himself to a small, specific sector, maintaining just enough of a presence to deter intruders. Aside from crushing the bones of one foolish Water Beast that had wandered into his territory, the serpent made no aggressive moves, quietly guarding his designated zone. To the other beasts, this behavior made him seem like just another ordinary Yo-beast. They perceived the serpent as a savage and powerful creature, but one that was harmless as long as they didn't trespass. The river was vast, and there was plenty of room for everyone. No one felt the need to covet the territory of a strong, vicious serpent. Thus, the Water Beasts went about securing their own territories.