A Feast Amidst Chaos
That brilliant light not only illuminated the sky but also instantly swept away the shadow that had hung over the hearts of the Jeyeon Sect cultivators. But right at that moment...
"What a crude little trick."
A chilling sneer echoed in the minds of the cultivators, just as the words of the old man called the Supreme Elder had moments before.
*Thoom!* Was it a footstep that shook the very earth? Or was it an alarm bell tolling in the hearts of the human cultivators who heard that sneer?
The night sky, which had just been pierced by the pillar of light, was instantly swallowed by darkness. The gloom blanketing the heavens struck an instinctive terror into the hearts of every living thing.
"Chaesan Nogoe!"
A furious roar infused with Dharma Power erupted, but the sky, trapped behind the veil of darkness, did not waver in the slightest. Far from trembling, it began to leak a sinister, ghostly wailing that sounded almost like an hallucination.
"Shin Baekrim! How did you manage to drag that heavy carcass of yours all the way out here?"
Beneath the pitch-black sky, a wooden puppet enveloped in dark smoke revealed itself. Though it possessed a human shape, a closer look revealed many crude imperfections, making it look like a sloppy carving abandoned halfway by an unskilled sculptor. Yet, this clumsy wooden doll was none other than Chaesan Noyao, one of the three grand elders of Sangyo Forest whose infamy echoed across the entire Jugye Mountain Range.
"Are you surprised to see me?"
"Indeed, I am. I cannot help but wonder what possessed you and that dim-witted brute—two cowards who cherish their own hides above all else—to show your faces before this old man."
The gaze of the old man, Shin Baekrim, shifted toward Yung-won, who stood towering near the center of the beast horde. Feeling the weight of that stare, Yung-won broke into a cold sweat and hunched his shoulders, though pulling his arms inward did little to hide his colossal frame. Seeing this pathetic display, Chaesan Noyao let out a cold snort.
"Enough pointless chatter. What need is there for words? We need only do what must be done."
"You speak the truth. Yes, we need only do what must be done."
Chaesan Noyao stepped forward, and Shin Baekrim advanced to meet him. At that exact moment, the thousands of beasts, whose patience had long since worn thin, charged in unison toward the cultivators of the Jeyeon Sect.
*Boom!*
Jekyeong's ears, already ringing from the collective roar of thousands of beasts, felt as if they would burst from the sheer volume of the explosion. Startled, he whipped his head around and saw Yung-won's colossal body—which looked sturdy enough to withstand a falling sky—staggering backward.
Focusing his gaze, Jekyeong spotted a human cultivator hovering in the air a short distance from Yung-won, one hand extended forward.
A Foundation Establishment cultivator!
Jekyeong instinctively lowered his massive body, his tension spiking to the absolute limit. He immediately withdrew his Spiritual Awareness, which he had kept spread wide across the area.
When explosions detonate all around, one must cover their ears. Similarly, now that the true clash between the Foundation Establishment cultivators and the Great Yo-beasts had begun, keeping his Spiritual Awareness active would bring nothing but agonizing pain. He had to suppress it as much as possible.
"Graaaah!"
Fireballs streaked through the air, and formless shockwaves rippled outward. The solid earth suddenly liquefied into a swamp, dragging down everything upon it. A flash of light erupted in the sky, and a translucent giant materialized, thrusting a massive spear down into the ground.
This is insane. Jekyeong narrowed his eyes as a stray shockwave buffeted his body. It didn't hurt much, but getting struck out of nowhere soured his mood. Even so, he didn't let anger dictate his actions. Instead, he let out a pained shriek and feigned being blown backward, graciously yielding the joy of the vanguard to his fellow beasts.
"Gwooooh!"
A bull beast, taking advantage of Jekyeong's "retreat," snorted hot steam and charged forward. Watching the beast's gallant back while lying half-collapsed on the ground, Jekyeong subtly rolled his eyes and began scanning the battlefield.
Chaesan Noyao.
Ever since he first awakened his Spiritual Awareness, Jekyeong had consistently tried to hone this spiritual sense. However, his training had never included learning how to dull or close it. It was only natural. Who wouldn't want to see and hear further? Who would willingly choose to blind and deafen themselves?
But now, he realized the hard way. There were things in this world that one should neither see nor hear. While it was a valuable lesson, the price of this realization was far too steep.
Ugh! Jekyeong fought with all his might to keep his consciousness from slipping. The indescribable agony flooding through the Spiritual Awareness he hadn't fully retracted tortured his mind.
In the distance, the clashes between the Foundation Establishment cultivators and the Great Yo-beasts unleashed a chaotic tempest of energies. Pure power, raw malice, and countless other unrecognizable forces swirled together. Every time his Spiritual Awareness brushed against them, Jekyeong's stomach churned as if he were suffering from severe motion sickness, and his mind reeled.
Just as he felt that losing his sanity was only a matter of time if this continued, he was saved, ironically enough, by the bloodshot eyes of human cultivators eager to kill him.
*Bam!*
A burst of flames engulfed his head and part of his body. Despite the impressive display, all he felt was a mild impact and a wave of heat. Yet, that slight shock and warmth were exactly what dragged Jekyeong's fading consciousness back to reality.
Snapping awake, Jekyeong let out a dramatic shriek and recoiled. He inwardly praised himself, thinking his acting was worthy of a cinematic masterpiece. However, his performance might have been a bit too convincing. The human cultivator who had thrown the fireball charged at him, brimming with confidence.
Should I kill him? Jekyeong hesitated for a moment. The human cultivator, thoroughly convinced that his target was on the brink of death, was rushing forward with nothing but a spear that looked like a toothpick. It was almost laughable. Should I just swallow him whole? No, what if stupidity is contagious?
Dismissing the silly thought, Jekyeong waited patiently. Chewing that fool to pieces would be child's play, but standing out too much would invite trouble. He had to make the scene look as natural as possible. His massive size compared to the other beasts was already drawing unwanted attention from the human cultivators. He absolutely could not show any extraordinary strength. On a battlefield, a threatening enemy might be avoided, but they could just as easily become a prime target for the enemy's elites.
"Gwoooar!"
While Jekyeong maintained his retreat while looking for the perfect moment to strike back, a sudden, dull roar echoed as something slammed into the human cultivator.
It was a stocky beast. A massive horn growing where its nose should be impaled the human cultivator. The cultivator didn't even have time to scream before his body shuddered and went limp.
"Junior Brother!"
One death sparked another's rage. With the spearman dead, a cultivator wielding a massive battleaxe charged with bloodshot eyes. His target, of course, was not Jekyeong, but the horned beast that had just gored his companion.
Both possessed decent strength, so their clash did not end quickly, soon drawing others nearby into the fray.
Perfect. Even as the battle raged, Jekyeong—the actual catalyst of the conflict—remained at a safe distance, putting his heart and soul into playing the wounded victim. While half-heartedly rooting for his fellow beasts, he narrowed his eyes at the sight of several other monsters greedily devouring the corpses of the human cultivators amidst the chaos.
They really are nothing but beasts. Even while consumed by rage—likely due to some form of brainwashing—they still succumbed to their gluttony. Was it because their innate appetite was simply stronger than that of other monsters?
Jekyeong took one last look at a beast that had been happily tearing into human flesh, only to be instantly killed by an icicle impaling the back of its head. He could feel the heat of the battlefield rising steadily.
The time is ripe. While keeping a low profile, Jekyeong had been continuously reading the flow of the battle. After the initial clash, the weak had been weeded out, and the strong had begun pairing off against one another. In particular, the Foundation Establishment cultivators and the Great Yo-beasts were locked in fierce, individual duels. As long as he moved stealthily and watched out for stray attacks from behind, he wouldn't face any major danger.
Charging out first made one an easy target, but waiting too long meant picking through scraps left behind by others. Thus, Jekyeong carefully calculated his moment to strike.
Now. The moment the head of a bizarre beast—resembling an awkward fusion of an earthworm and a spider—was severed, Jekyeong lunged.
The human cultivator, intoxicated by the joy of defeating a foe that had pushed him to his limits, failed to notice Jekyeong's approach, which was faster than a speeding arrow. Part of it was his lapsed focus, and part of it was Jekyeong's sheer speed, but the primary reason was the flawless execution of his Presence-Concealing Technique.
At this moment, Jekyeong mentally gave a thumbs-up—using a thumb he didn't actually possess—to his past self for choosing to master the Presence-Concealing Technique.
"Huh?!"
The human cultivator noticed Jekyeong's approach far too late. By then, Jekyeong was already right behind him, his jaws gaping wide. Before the cultivator's eyes could even widen in shock, his entire body, save for his knees down, was swallowed into Jekyeong's maw.
Excellent. He realized once again that the strength of human cultivators was highly unbalanced. They could shatter massive boulders with a flick of their fingers, yet their physical bodies were nowhere near as durable as those very rocks. Of course, this assessment was based solely on the cultivators he had encountered so far. There might be humans with bodies as tough as monsters—such as Body Cultivators, who were said to train by consuming astronomical amounts of resources...
Or perhaps Foundation Establishment cultivators. Jekyeong made a conscious effort not to look toward the direction of the continuous explosions, even by accident. At the same time, he struggled to further dull his Spiritual Awareness, which was still inflicting pain upon him.
However, Jekyeong's efforts were akin to trying to fall asleep by staring wide-eyed and shouting. The more he focused on it, the more information his Spiritual Awareness tried to feed him, which only amplified his agony.
To distract himself from his churning stomach and the overwhelming sensory overload, Jekyeong focused entirely on the chunk of flesh in his mouth. The dense spiritual energy contained within the corpse, whose spark of life had already been extinguished, was exactly what he had hoped for.
As expected, a single big catch is worth more than a hundred minnows. It wasn't a matter of quantity. In terms of sheer volume, a hundred minnows would actually yield more. What mattered was quality, not quantity.
The early stage of Qi Condensation was different from the mid stage, and the mid stage was vastly different from the late stage. Early Qi Condensation was like a toddler taking its first steps in the world of cultivation, while the mid stage could be compared to a fully grown adult running freely. The late stage, however, went beyond mere walking and running; they were those preparing to soar, looking up at the heavens.
Late Qi Condensation. Though he seems to have only recently broken through. Jekyeong gauged the spiritual energy within the flesh he had yet to swallow. While the quantity wasn't as vast as he had hoped, the quality was highly satisfactory. This alone would be enough to accelerate the growth of his Spirit Core for at least a month.
*Gulp!*
If beasts were living treasures in the eyes of humans, then humans were living elixirs to the beasts. Most beasts used these "elixirs" to purify their chaotic origins—namely, the turbid energy within them. However, Jekyeong had no need for that. His origin had never been impure to begin with.
He didn't even know that other beasts suffered from such issues. He simply assumed they coveted human cultivators for the same reason he did—that there was some beneficial element helping them break through to the rank of a Great Yo-beast, which was why they were burying their heads and gorging on flesh even in the middle of a battlefield.
Good. Jekyeong felt the spiritual energy escaping from the flesh in his stomach, quietly seeping into his soul like a gentle breeze slipping through a crack. Naturally, there was no way his Spirit Core would fail to sense what he felt.
*Whoosh!*
The tiny ember greedily absorbed the spiritual energy. Even though it had been refined by a human cultivator, it was still fundamentally no different from the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. To Jekyeong's Spirit Core, it was like a luscious fruit with its skin and seeds meticulously peeled away.
Jekyeong's Spirit Core was a part of him. To be precise, it was a part of his soul—its very anchor. In some ways, it was closer to his true essence than his physical body. Thus, Jekyeong could vividly feel his Spirit Core growing in real-time. The growth was incredibly natural, so much so that it felt less like development and more like reclaiming its original form.
Jekyeong estimated how long the digestion process would take. Just as tough meat was harder to chew, higher-quality spiritual energy was harder to digest. Consequently, the energy of a late Qi Condensation cultivator was not something his Spirit Core could digest quickly, no matter how ravenous it was. Fortunately, Jekyeong's stomach was massive enough to store it comfortably even if he couldn't process it immediately.
Flicking his tongue in satisfaction, Jekyeong turned his gaze to search for his next prey.
From the moment the battle began, the warzone had been expanding endlessly. It was inevitable, as most of the beasts sought to close the distance for melee combat, while the human cultivators did the opposite, trying to keep their distance.
In the cultivation world, where there were no set formations or rules of engagement, large-scale battles almost always unfolded this way. In other words, a massive battle in the cultivation world was simply a collection of countless individual skirmishes.
Though the battlefield had grown several times larger than its initial size, its center had not shifted even once from the very beginning.
Shin Baekrim and Chaesan Noyao. The vast space surrounding these two was the absolute epicenter of the battlefield, where nearly ten thousand combatants clashed.
Even the human Foundation Establishment cultivators and the beastly Great Yo-beasts consciously tried to steer clear of them, even while locked in their own life-and-death struggles.
A few unfortunate souls with poor instincts, overly absorbed in their own fights, occasionally crossed that invisible line and stepped into their domain. However, their ends were always the same.
First, they would instantly collapse on the spot like puppets with their strings cut. Then, writhing like insects, they would shriek incomprehensibly as their bodies repeatedly bloated and deflated.