The Engineered War

Sagaewan’s speed was almost beyond belief. The only reason Jekyeong managed to keep his trail was because Sagaewan's aura lingered in the air like footprints, serving as guideposts. It was only after a long, grueling chase that Jekyeong finally caught up with him. Had he traveled alone, he would have arrived much sooner, but he had a flock of Yo-beasts to lead. Among those following him, several were naturally slower than even Muk-su, and their encounter with Sagaewan had left them so traumatized that their pace had slowed to a crawl. Consequently, Jekyeong had no choice but to arrive late at the gathering point. By the time he finally made it, a massive plain was already teeming with what easily looked like thousands of Yo-beasts.

“Jekyeong. I-I’m scared…” muttered Cheongo, completely forgetting the warning to keep its beak shut.

But Jekyeong couldn't bring himself to scold the bird. He, too, was momentarily overwhelmed by the sight before him.

Was it even possible for Yo-beasts, creatures driven by instinct rather than intellect, to gather in such a manner? They stood so close they could practically touch, yet despite the constant low growls, none of them engaged in a fight to the death. Watching this unnatural display, it felt as if all thousands of these beasts were wearing invisible leashes.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Jekyeong stared blankly at the bizarre spectacle for a moment before turning his gaze toward the hill in the distance, where he could sense Sagaewan's presence.

How strange. Sagaewan's presence was definitely situated on the hill, but its magnitude and pressure were far weaker than what Jekyeong had felt before. Could he also be using a method to hide his aura, like the Presence-Concealing Technique? The senior cultivators of Bul-mang-won dismissed the Presence-Concealing Technique as a mere parlor trick, but that was only because they were proud Foundation Establishment cultivators.

Right. Sagaewan is a Great Yo-beast, which makes him equivalent to a human Foundation Establishment cultivator. If so, it wouldn't be surprising if he knew how to use the Presence-Concealing Technique. After all, the technique wasn't exclusive to human cultivators, and even if it weren't that exact skill, the cultivation world was vast; there were bound to be plenty of similar methods.

Then... are all the beings on that hill Great Yo-beasts? Though called a hill, it was large enough to be considered a low mountain. At its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠summit stood several figures of varying sizes, and Sagaewan ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was merely one of them. Each of them emitted a suppressed yet stable aura, much like Sagaewan, leading Jekyeong to suspect they were all Great Yo-beasts. Whether they were Great Yo-beasts or belonged to some other faction of the Yo race, they were clearly powerhouses on par with Sagaewan. After all, the formidable Sagaewan was positioned on the very outer edge of their group. While one's standing position wasn't an absolute measure of strength, Sagaewan did not look special in the slightest among those gathered at the peak.

And the one in the center... As Jekyeong unconsciously shifted his gaze, he suddenly froze like stone. He didn't know why. It was as if he had been walking smoothly only to hit a massive speed bump, bringing his vision and consciousness to a grinding halt.

That... is absolutely no ordinary Great Yo-beast. Among the dozen or so Great Yo-beasts surrounding the center, there were some far larger than Muk-su—veritable living skyscrapers. Compared to those colossal entities, the figure in the center was physically unremarkable. Yet, Jekyeong felt an instinctive, overwhelming terror radiating from him. The sheer dread was far more intense than when he had faced Sagaewan head-on. Was this pressure born of a Yo-beast's primal instincts? Jekyeong knew he was relatively free from such instinctual suppression, likely because while his body was that of a Yo-beast, his soul was partially human.

What is that being? A Great Yo-beast? Or a Demon King? A Demon King. In human terms, it was a realm equivalent to the Golden Core stage, far transcending a Great Yo-beast. Fitting for such a grandiose title, those who reached the realm of a Demon King among the countless Yo-beasts of the Changram Realm were the absolute elite of the elite. Jekyeong couldn't say for certain if the figure at the center of the Great Yo-beasts was a Demon King. However, his distinct presence, which set him apart from the surrounding Great Yo-beasts, and the creeping dread that took hold the moment Jekyeong paid him any attention, made him suspect this being was something far beyond a Great Yo-beast. Jekyeong kept his head down, not daring to look directly at him. He didn't even think of using the Presence-Concealing Technique to erase his aura, fearing that such an attempt might draw the attention of the entity atop the mountain.

“Lord Mountain Master. I believe we have gathered as many as we can.”

Sagaewan sneered inwardly as he watched the Great Yo-beast act with uncharacteristic politeness. It was utterly hilarious to see a wild, hot-headed bastard—who would normally tear everything apart at the slightest displeasure—behaving so meekly.

I guess even that brute knows when and where to behave.

Of course he does. Unless he wants to die.

Two heads, two minds. Often—no, most of the time—it was a nuisance, but occasionally, it was quite useful for curing boredom. Being able to gossip about others without anyone else knowing was a rather pleasant pastime.

But still, for the old man himself to make a personal appearance... Is this conflict really going to escalate that much?

Who knows? The higher-ups must have their reasons.

He cautiously stole a glance at the one addressed as the Mountain Master. On the surface, he looked like an ordinary, unremarkable wood spirit, but no one in Sangyo Forest was ignorant of his notorious reputation. Chaesan Noyao. He was one of the three grand elders who ruled Sangyo Forest, and his strength was said to rival that of a Demon King. Yet, the reason the Yo-beasts of Sangyo Forest dared not lift their heads in his presence was not merely due to his status or power.

The old man stepping up means far more blood will flow this time than before.

Perhaps. But isn't that actually a good thing?

The conflict between Sangyo Forest and the Jeyeon Sect was nothing new. Even putting aside the inherent racial animosity between humans and beasts, they were bound to clash constantly, given that they shared the same home in the Jugye Mountain Range. However, since neither side could completely overpower or drive out the other, their skirmishes always ended in a bloody stalemate with no clear victor.

To an outsider, it might look like both sides were foolishly grinding down their own forces in a petty war of pride, but this was actually an intentional outcome born of a tacit agreement between the two factions. To understand this endless, victorless war, one had to first understand the circumstances surrounding both powers. In truth, the question of hegemony over the Jugye Mountain Range was a fundamental issue that neither faction could resolve on their own. If Sangyo Forest defeated the Jeyeon Sect and claimed the mountain range, the great sect backing the Jeyeon Sect would not sit idly by. Conversely, if the Jeyeon Sect emerged victorious, a similar backlash would occur from the beasts' side. Though Sangyo Forest and the Jeyeon Sect were merely minor, obscure forces in their respective cultivation worlds, they each had powerful backers. This was the reason they could fight, but never truly win. Even if victory were possible, they must not achieve it.

Over a thousand years ago, when they first clashed in the Jugye Mountain Range, the battle had been truly ferocious. They had fought a war of life and death as if losing meant the end of the world, with no retreat. But they soon realized the futility of their struggle and were overcome with skepticism. They were, so to speak, like two bells tied together. It was fine for them to clash and ring loudly, or even get dented, but they must never be completely shattered. The front line between the two domains? No, it was merely a remote backwater that nobody truly cared about. Neither side particularly wanted to occupy it, yet neither wanted to hand it over to the other. Thus, they drew an awkward line in the sand, fighting just enough to save face.

Once both factions realized their true worth and position, their desire to fight dwindled. However, it wasn't long before they discovered an unexpected truth. While their war might lack meaning, it certainly did not lack value. To humans, the corpse of a Yo-beast was a treasure in itself. Every byproduct harvested from a beast's body had a use, and certain body parts were highly sought after as ingredients for refining dan-yak. Likewise, to the Yo-beasts, human cultivators were a delicacy and a spiritual medicine. Most Yo-beasts, who grew and advanced their realms by mindlessly devouring whatever they could find based on instinct, inevitably suffered from turbid internal energy. Human cultivators, however, possessed an extraordinary purifying effect on this internal turbidity. Purifying this impurity not only strengthened their energy but also aided them in aiming for higher realms. Knowing this, any Yo-beast would salivate at the mere sight of a human cultivator.

Since both sides had something to gain from the other, the dying embers of the conflict between Sangyo Forest and the Jeyeon Sect naturally flared up once more. However, because they were well aware that neither could completely subjugate the other, they carefully controlled the intensity of their clashes to ensure the foundation of their respective factions remained unshaken. Even the pretexts for their battles were somewhat standardized. If the Jeyeon Sect initiated the conflict, they would make a show of expanding their influence into the neutral zone to provoke Sangyo Forest. Conversely, if Sangyo Forest started it, they would trigger a beast tide, driving hordes of mindless Yo-beasts into the Jeyeon Sect's territory. This current conflict had been initiated by the Jeyeon Sect, which usually meant Sangyo Forest would play a defensive role, reacting to the human incursions. Yet, the notorious Chaesan Noyao had personally stepped forward for this battle. Even if he were to participate, shouldn't he only show his face near the end of the conflict? That was how it had always been.

Something is going on.

Yes. This is different from before.

Sagaewan instinctively sensed that this war would be far more complicated than previous ones, though he couldn't grasp the reason why.

In times like this, it's best to just eat our fill and keep our heads down.

Agreed. Let's be absolutely careful this time. No losing our minds because the blood rushes to our head like last time.

Wasn't that blood rushing to your head, not mine?

My head is your head, and your head is my head.

Oh, really? Only when it's convenient for you?

Sagaewan was confident that he was the smartest Great Yo-beast in the world. After all, he had two heads. While others thought with a single head, he could think with two, which naturally made him twice as smart as those single-headed fools. Using his prized, brilliant minds, Sagaewan made a firm decision: no matter what happened, he would not be the first to charge.

Jekyeong, of course, had no idea what Sagaewan was thinking. He merely watched Sagaewan hovering on the fringes like an outcast, wondering if the two-headed beast was being ostracized by the other Great Yo-beasts.

He said we're fighting some place called the Jeyeon Sect... but not knowing how these Yo-beasts wage war is frustrating. Surely they wouldn't just swarm forward like a bunch of kids in a street brawl without any organization, would they? Actually, maybe that would be better. If there were an organized structure, Sagaewan, who had dragged him here, would likely become his direct superior. Jekyeong found Sagaewan incredibly troublesome. It wasn't just because the beast had forced him here, but rather because Sagaewan seemed to have noticed something special about him.

One might say he was overreacting to a brief moment of curiosity. But to Jekyeong, even that fleeting interest was a grave threat. Sagaewan was a Great Yo-beast who could kill him at any moment if he so desired. To the weak, the attention of an overwhelmingly powerful being is nothing but poison. Some might say poison can be used as medicine, but that didn't change the fact that poison was still poison. Poison was inherently dangerous, and danger was meant to be avoided if possible. This was a very simple rule of survival.

Even with the pressure of hierarchy, can they actually control a crowd like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this? The leaders from Sangyo Forest had forced thousands of Yo-beasts to gather in one place and suppressed them enough to keep them from tearing each other apart, but that was it. Even now, some were wandering off, others were howling aimlessly, and some were even defecating right where they stood. They were a textbook definition of a disorganized rabble. Was it truly possible to command such creatures like an army?

While Jekyeong was lost in thought, there was movement at the mountain peak.

“Lord Mountain Master. Shall we begin?”

At the polite inquiry, Chaesan Noyao, who took the form of a massive wooden puppet or ape-like creature, spoke in a low voice.

“Let us.”

With his permission granted, the massive Great Yo-beast who had been reporting so respectfully turned around. The moment he faced the thousands of Yo-beasts below the mountain, an explosive pressure erupted from his entire body. As this overwhelming aura swept down from the peak and blanketed the plain, the thousands of distracted Yo-beasts instantly collapsed to the ground, their breathing turning ragged.

The Great Yo-beast's fury carried through his roar, infecting the minds of the listening Yo-beasts. The creatures, who had initially been bewildered and terrified, instantly lost their minds to a blind, burning rage.

What is this? Jekyeong was overwhelmed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. His own heart pounded violently upon hearing the Great Yo-beast's roar, but fortunately, he managed to keep his emotions under control. This isn't mere incitement. Is it hypnosis? No, it's more like brainwashing. He couldn't help but shudder at the sight of a Great Yo-beast corrupting the minds of thousands of Yo-beasts with just a few words. Was such a method truly possible? If so, did it mean a Great Yo-beast could manipulate thousands of beasts at will? Even if the Yo race was highly susceptible to the pressure of hierarchy, this was far too extreme.

The moment the Great Yo-beast's command fell, thousands of Yo-beasts let out a collective roar and turned as one.