A Thief's Ambition
Curiosity and greed—he wondered what kind of spiritual treasures might lie in other territories. What if those domains held something as wondrous as the Medicinal Water? What if they possessed a cultivation treasure that could directly aid his growth? Just the thought made his mouth water. He felt no guilt or hesitation about coveting the possessions of others who had never harmed him. Was it because they were Yo-beasts, and in this world, anyone who wasn't an ally was an enemy? No, it was because he was a cultivator. Jekyeong now understood that striving and fighting for opportunities was the very nature and defining quality of a cultivator. To struggle against heaven, to battle the earth, to contend with fellow men, and to race against time—such was the destiny of a cultivator. Humans called the Beast Race savage and lawless, but to Jekyeong, the two races were essentially no different. If the Beast Race were robbers, then the Human Race were merely swindlers. With his conscience entirely clear, a plan quickly took shape in his mind. While there was no guarantee that every territory possessed a spiritual treasure, the probability was undoubtedly high. If he could search five or six places and salvage even one treasure, Jekyeong would be more than satisfied.
The problem is that the lords of these territories are none of them easy marks.
He could not afford to underestimate them based on his experience with the Catfish. The only reason Jekyeong had been able to defeat the Catfish was that he had launched a pre-emptive strike to neutralize the beast's strengths, and the hot-headed Catfish had repeatedly blundered in his rage. Furthermore, Jekyeong possessed his own advantages in the water, which largely offset the inherent edge the Catfish held as an aquatic Water Beast. However, it would be difficult to enjoy such advantages against the other territorial lords. Not only did they primarily operate on land, but his battle with the Catfish had also exposed the existence of Cheongo and Muksu. More precisely, it had revealed their alliance with Jekyeong. While it was unlikely that the low-intelligence, highly individualistic Yo-beasts would gossip and spread rumors, a territorial lord would surely possess some degree of cunning, so he could not rule out the possibility. Setting everything else aside, the mere fact that these formidable beasts each occupied a single territory without greedily overreaching—maintaining the current balance of power—proved they possessed enough intellect to understand the equilibrium and read the room. If he approached such creatures with Cheongo and Muksu in tow, they would immediately regard him with intense suspicion. Catching them off guard would be impossible, and at worst, he might be viewed as a troublemaker trying to disrupt the balance. Jekyeong wanted to avoid such a scenario at all costs, which meant he had to devise a different approach.
The option of fighting one-on-one without the help of Cheongo and Muksu was never on the table. Although his cultivation had taken a step forward after devouring the Catfish, he was still lacking compared to the lords of the territories. In human terms, it was the difference between the mid-stage and late-stage of Qi Condensation. Jekyeong felt that his current cultivation level had reached the very peak of mid-stage Qi Condensation. He was close to the late-stage, but being close was distinctly different from actually reaching it. It felt as though he had yet to cross a certain threshold, a wall.
And that's not all. Just like that Catfish, there's a high probability they possess some sort of unique, specialized ability.
No matter how he calculated it, challenging the territorial lords right now would be suicide—or rather, self-harm. Self-harm, not suicide. That was the exact limit of Jekyeong's confidence. He had no desire to die, nor did he wish to suffer pointless injuries. He believed that engaging in a direct brawl with the territorial lords was a losing proposition with zero net gain.
Unless the day comes when I can hunt them with ease, it's simply not worth the cost.
The effects of the Catfish meat, which he had hunted with such difficulty, had not been as grand as he hoped. It wasn't merely because he had only eaten half of it. While it was slightly better than the flesh of ordinary Yo-beasts, the difference was not particularly vast. It was certainly not worth risking severe injury to obtain.
Therefore, the option of facing the territorial lords head-on was ruled out from the very beginning. The next strategy Jekyeong conceived was to make a feint to the east while striking in the west—or, to put it more bluntly, theft. He would lure the territorial lord away, while Cheongo sneaked into the domain to search for any spiritual treasures, snatching them up and fleeing if any were found. In a way, Jekyeong was copying the exact stunt Muksu had pulled when they dealt with the Catfish, with the sole difference being that this time, they were targeting the territory's spiritual treasure rather than the owner's life.
This plan required two prerequisites. First, there could be no other Yo-beasts or monsters residing in the territory besides the lord itself. Second, Cheongo's Presence-Concealing Technique had to reach a sufficient level of mastery. He wasn't particularly worried about the first condition. A fierce sense of territoriality was a common trait among the Beast Race, and it was even more pronounced in territorial lords. While it was rare for a beast to completely monopolize and thoroughly police an entire river like the Catfish had, the other lords exhibited similar behaviors.
Besides, if there is a spiritual treasure in their territory and they are aware of it, they will exclude others even more fiercely. So the first condition isn't an issue. The real problem is Cheongo.
In truth, if he didn't care about the consequences, he wouldn't have to worry so much about Cheongo's Presence-Concealing Technique. However, Jekyeong had no intention of abandoning the Spiritual Spring and the Medicinal Water he had worked so hard to claim. They had to pull off a stealthy heist, not an open robbery. Thus, everything ultimately came back to Cheongo. The bird had to apply itself and master the Presence-Concealing Technique for the plan to work. But...
Is a birdbrain still a birdbrain, no matter how smart it is?
He knew that wasn't the issue. Even so, watching Cheongo engage in a petty war of nerves with Muksu over a freshly ripened Spiritual Fruit made Jekyeong's chest tighten with a sudden wave of frustration, as if something were stuck in his throat.
Bul-mang-won. Several spiritual bodies now sat atop the stone pillars, a sight that had become somewhat familiar. However, the seat of honor where Yoo Gyeyoon used to sit was empty, making the familiar gathering feel strangely foreign.
"So, you have decided to depart?"
"I have."
The one who asked was U Do-baek, and the one who answered was Chae Yeonri. Just as Jekyeong had anticipated, Chae Yeonri, feeling that the Mansi Assembly had lost its appeal after Yoo Gyeyoon's departure, announced her exit. Choosing to speak directly rather than leaving in silence was her way of showing respect for the camaraderie they had shared.
"Then today may well be the last time we meet."
"Perhaps, but perhaps not. As long as the path of cultivation remains unbroken, will we not cross paths again somewhere in this world?"
"Haha. Indeed. In that case, I pray that the fortune of the Dao guides your path forward, fellow Daoist."
"And mine to yours."
The atmosphere of their parting was no different from any other day. It was as if they were parting today only to meet again tomorrow.
"I pray that the fortune of the Dao accompanies you on your journey, Senior," Jekyeong said.
"Thank you."
All the cultivators of the Mansi Assembly, including Jekyeong, offered their blessings to the departing Chae Yeonri. She bowed to each of them in turn before vanishing, just as Yoo Gyeyoon had done.
"With two seats empty, it feels rather desolate," U Do-baek remarked with a light chuckle as he moved to occupy the seat of honor that had belonged to Yoo Gyeyoon. The remaining cultivators of the Mansi Assembly accepted this transition naturally. Of course, excluding U Do-baek, there were only three of them left now.
"Ahem. As I mentioned to Senior Yoo previously, I shall be presiding over this assembly from now on. Though I say 'preside,' I have no grand plans. I will simply be speaking a bit more than before. Nothing else will change. We shall share what we must and associate as our hearts desire."
Like Jekyeong, Yeo Janggyeong and Choi Ju-tang had little to say. From their perspective, the source of guidance had simply shifted from Yoo Gyeyoon, who was in the late stage of Foundation Establishment, to U Do-baek, who was in the middle stage. To say they felt no regret would be a lie, but whether their senior was two steps above them or one, he was still in a position to look down upon them. Thus, the loss did not sting too deeply.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
With U Do-baek's words, the meeting commenced. Mundane updates passed quickly, leading straight into a discussion on cultivation. Yeo Janggyeong and Choi Ju-tang, who had remained at the starting line of Foundation Establishment despite years having passed since their breakthrough, were the first to seek guidance from U Do-baek. While U Do-baek had previously deferred to Yoo Gyeyoon and Chae Yeonri, he now offered his insights quite earnestly. Jekyeong committed these teachings—which he could not yet comprehend in the slightest—to memory, hoping they would prove useful one day.
"What is Foundation Establishment? As you have all achieved it, you must know that it is the laying of the cornerstone. If the Qi Condensation stage is the proof of one's qualification to cultivate, then Foundation Establishment is the building of the foundation for true cultivation once that qualification is proven."
In a sense, a cultivator at the Qi Condensation stage could not be considered a true cultivator. This was because the spiritual energy they utilized was, in the end, merely the raw Qi of heaven and earth. Though it underwent a minor refinement by the cultivator, the difference was akin to an apple covered in dirt versus one washed with water.
On the other hand, a Foundation Establishment cultivator wielded Dharma Power. What was Dharma Power? It was the result of the world's spiritual energy undergoing a fundamental transformation through the cultivator's spiritual nature and will. Dharma Power was not only vastly more potent than raw spiritual energy, but it was also deeply imbued with the cultivator's unique color. This color was shaped by a combination of factors—the cultivator's mind state, the cultivation methods they practiced, and their innate Spiritual Roots. This color could manifest vividly or remain as faint as a whisper.
"Let me use an analogy. Think of achieving Foundation Establishment as preparing a blank canvas. Now that you have your canvas, must you not paint upon it in your own way?"
That painting could be a single stroke, a grand landscape, or a chaotic mess that resembled mere scribbles. It could be a uniform, pitch-black void, or a kaleidoscope of colors so vibrant it made the eyes ache.
"My advice to you is this: do not mistake rashness for simplicity. It is only natural for it to be difficult. Even if you linger at the threshold for ten years, you are not late."
As U Do-baek concluded his teaching, Yeo Janggyeong and Choi Ju-tang bowed respectfully.
"We shall keep it in mind."
"Thank you for your guidance."
While looking from afar allowed one to see the whole picture at a glance, looking closely revealed the finer details. In terms of the depth of cultivation, U Do-baek could not compare to Yoo Gyeyoon. Yet, Yeo Janggyeong and Choi Ju-tang felt they gained more from him than they ever had from Yoo Gyeyoon's lofty sermons.
"Senior, I too would like to seek your guidance."
Jekyeong spoke for the first time. At his words, not only U Do-baek but also Yeo Janggyeong and Choi Ju-tang reacted with surprise.
"I am ignorant of the cultivation of Yo-beasts," U Do-baek replied. "If it is something like last time, I might be able to offer some simple advice."
By "like last time," he meant the Presence-Concealing Technique—minor tricks that even non-humans could employ. But that was not what Jekyeong was curious about.
"Senior, as you know, as a Yo-beast, I can raise my cultivation simply by consuming blood food and increasing my vital energy. My current strength was obtained in this manner."
"Mmm. A truly enviable ability."
"However, my progress has stagnated recently. Even when I consume more Yo-beasts than before, I do not feel my vital energy increasing."
In truth, he did feel it—but it was progressing at a snail's pace.
"Hmm. A cultivation bottleneck for a Yo-beast... As I said, I know little of the Beast Race's cultivation. So, take what I say with a grain of salt. The method of cultivation you describe aligns with what I know. Most Yo-beasts focus heavily on tempering their physical bodies. It is similar to human Body Cultivators, but far more savage."
The vast majority of human cultivators refined Dharma Power based on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth; thus, they were called Dharma Cultivators. Conversely, a minority of cultivators tempered their physical bodies using vital energy; these were known as Body Cultivators.
"To be able to absorb an opponent's vital energy through blood food... I guarantee you, that is an ability Body Cultivators only dream of. Since Yo-beasts possess such a gift by birth, I do not believe any Yo-beast has the right to complain about a lack of talent."
What was the greatest difficulty Body Cultivators faced in their cultivation? The pain of the process? Generally, those who chose the path of the Body Cultivator were already prepared to face agony. To them, pain was merely growing pains, and what cultivator in the world feared growth? What they truly feared was a bottleneck in their cultivation.
While every cultivator feared bottlenecks, the obstacles faced by Body Cultivators were fundamentally different from those of Dharma Cultivators. While the bottlenecks of Dharma Cultivators were mostly related to their mind state or enlightenment, the bottlenecks of Body Cultivators were tied to the biological limitations of the human race. Just as Yo-beasts could not match the intellect and sheer numbers of humans, humans could not match the naturally robust physical bodies of Yo-beasts.
Of course, nothing in this world was absolute, and since cultivation was inherently a pursuit of transcendence, one could surpass these limitations through training. But if limitations could be overcome so easily, would they even be called limitations?
For Body Cultivators to raise their realm, they required not only blood-soaked effort but also an immense amount of cultivation resources. These resources mostly consisted of items that replenished or expanded one's vital energy, and due to their rarity, their value was astronomical. When one considered that ordinary Dharma Cultivators often struggled to obtain even a single decent cultivation resource—forcing them to rely solely on their own talent and willpower—it became clear just how pampered Body Cultivators were.
Talent was one thing, but without wealth, one could not even begin the training. Consequently, Body Cultivators were often the rising stars of major sects or members of prominent cultivation clans. Only those with a powerful background capable of securing the necessary resources could even stand at the starting line of a Body Cultivator's path.
Considering this, Yo-beasts possessed an overwhelming advantage. In theory, every Yo-beast capable of absorbing another's vital energy through blood food was a natural-born Body Cultivator. Furthermore, because the physical bodies of Yo-beasts were incomparably stronger than those of humans, it was incredibly difficult for human Body Cultivators to bridge that gap through training alone.
This alone showed how arduous the path of the Body Cultivator was. To call it "arduous" was a polite understatement; in truth, it was no exaggeration to call it a path of thorns. For this reason, some argued that body cultivation was fundamentally unsuitable for humans. Conversely, others claimed that body cultivation was the most ideal method to compensate for human imperfection. Both arguments had their merits, and the debate remained unresolved to this day. Yet, putting aside the hardships of the practice, the allure of a Body Cultivator was undeniable, and any cultivator would gladly practice body cultivation techniques if given the chance.