The Price of Identity
A massive serpent, looking as if it had been drenched in ink, let out a savage roar and charged toward the cave wall. Only after slamming its head against the stone several times as if venting its rage, and thrashing its tail a few more times, did a gleam of reason finally return to its ferociously wild eyes.
"...Is it over?" Cheongo's cautious voice reached Jekyeong's ears just as he barely managed to calm himself. Turning his head, Jekyeong saw Cheongo frozen in a half-crouching posture near the cave entrance. Near the bird's feet lay a plump fruit, though Jekyeong had no idea when it had rolled all the way over there.
"...Yes." Jekyeong's cold gaze drifted toward the hideously shattered cave wall. What on earth just happened? Since gaining this new life, he had never been so utterly swept away by his emotions. Bewilderment and fear surged within him simultaneously. However, Jekyeong quickly reined himself in. It's fine. If there's a problem, I just need to solve it. It wasn't like this was his first time facing an obstacle. Problems, both big and small, had always cropped up, and he had always found a way. This time would be no exception. Jekyeong calmly coiled his body and began to look inward, meditating on his inner state.
"My nest!" But right then, Cheongo's sorrowful wail shattered Jekyeong's concentration. Cracking one eye open, he saw Cheongo slumped despondently in front of the collapsed nest.
"..." Jekyeong quietly closed his eye, pretending he had neither seen nor heard a thing. Jekyeong, who had just suffered a sudden fit of rage, spent a long time examining his inner self, but he couldn't find a single issue. His mind was perfectly serene, as if it had never run wild in the first place, and his spiritual nature was equally stable.
Then what is the problem? Finishing his introspection, Jekyeong fell deep into thought. The transformation had been a success. It was undoubtedly a success. No matter how many times he turned it over in his mind, the conclusion remained unchanged. There is nothing wrong with the transformation itself. If there's a problem, it lies with me. He had lost his reason to pure rage. It was just like the Yao beasts who had lost their minds after being incited by the Great Demons of the Sangyo Forest. Back then, watching those beasts rush headlong toward their own graves, he had resolved to stay vigilant and tense so he would never end up like them. Yet, completely out of nowhere, he had experienced something incredibly similar.
I've never heard of anyone else who mastered a Transformation Secret Art experiencing this kind of issue. In the first place, a transformation either failed or succeeded; there was no such thing as experiencing side effects after a successful transformation. At least, not as far as Jekyeong knew. It's not a problem with the transformation, nor is it a problem with the secret art. Therefore, the issue definitely lies within me. Jekyeong began to list the ways he differed from others, one by one. A reincarnator who possessed a human soul but was born into the body of a Yao beast. Lacking any bloodline, he had paved his own spiritual path by forming a Spirit Seed, and had ascended to the Great Yao realm based on that foundation. Then, he had luckily obtained a Transformation Secret Art perfectly suited to him and easily achieved human form. While a few other minor details crossed his mind, these three were the most suspicious.
Unlike the other Yao beasts in Bul-mang-won, my mind is completely intact. This was something the senior cultivators had discussed, so there was no room for doubt. Jekyeong himself had never once felt or been swayed by the fickle, violent nature of the Yao. Could the suffocating discomfort and rage I felt after transforming actually stem from the primal instincts of a Yao beast? If so, the rage made sense, but what about that suffocating feeling? Jekyeong vividly remembered how that unbearable discomfort had morphed into fury. As that anger swelled until it became completely uncontrollable, he had lost his mind.
I felt that suffocating discomfort while in human form. Why? Was the form itself flawed? Yet, when he had briefly checked his reflection in the water, he hadn't found anything amiss. His head was properly attached, and his limbs were perfectly fine. Though his face was somewhat beautified, it still closely resembled his past self... Wait, could that be the problem? When transforming, Jekyeong had skipped the process of carving out a new human form. This was because the human shape he wished to take already existed. It wasn't a form sculpted through imagination and sheer will, but rather his past-life appearance preserved in his memories.
Is it because of that? Because I didn't sculpt a new human form, but instead dragged my other self directly into this reality? Since Jekyeong's knowledge of transformation was limited to what he had learned from the Pulse-Plucking Transformation Technique, he couldn't be certain. Yet, the more he pondered it, the more plausible this theory became. Considering I have never once suffered from the primal instincts of a Yao beast until now, it's safe to say my soul and mind have fully adapted to this Yao body. A human mind in a Yao body. Jekyeong had actively accepted and integrated into his new identity. From the very moment he hatched from his egg, he had been faithful to his new life, stepping onto the path of cultivation and constantly refining himself. That was how he had reached this point. The current Jekyeong was complete. He might have minor shortcomings, but nothing was fundamentally missing.
And in that complete state, I tried to paste my past self on top. If one compared the mind and soul to a lump of clay, sculpting a form from scratch would be like pinching and shaping a portion of that soft clay. Even when the form was fully sculpted, it remained a single, unified piece. On the other hand, the method Jekyeong had chosen was different. It was like taking a separate, pre-existing clay model and slapping it onto the original lump—and onto a lump of clay that had already hardened completely, at that. It was fast and convenient, but they would only stick together temporarily; they were still two distinct pieces.
Normally, even my method shouldn't have caused such a major issue. The real problem wasn't the model he had pasted on, but the foundational lump of clay. Because his soul and mind were already complete, the model he tried to attach couldn't merge with it, leaving it awkwardly perched on top. ...It makes sense. Though it was all assumptions and theories from start to finish, Jekyeong couldn't think of any other possibility. If that really is the case, how do I solve it? To put it simply, his perfect adaptation as a Yao beast had backfired on him. Would things have been different if he hadn't tried to take a shortcut during the shaping process? No. Even if he hadn't, the outcome would have been similar. As long as his past life remained engraved in his soul and mind as an identity and memory, nothing would have changed. In the end, even a form sculpted from scratch would have ended up with the face reflected in the water.
Since I've already achieved transformation, there's no turning back. In the house called Jekyeong, an uncomfortable cohabitation between the past owner and the current owner had already begun. Unless he expanded the house or blew the entire thing up, this awkward arrangement would persist to the very end. The only saving grace was that the one casting the Pulse-Plucking Transformation Technique was the current owner—Jekyeong the serpent. As long as he didn't use the transformation technique, he could continue his peaceful life just as before. But the problem is that I'll need to transform frequently in the future. Then what should he do? I have no choice but to suppress my temper. It was a simple yet incredibly difficult conclusion, but it was the only one he could think of right now.
A pale-skinned man, Jekyeong, sat cross-legged, murmuring words whose meaning was difficult to grasp. It sounded faintly like a Buddhist chant, or perhaps the meaningless humming of a drunkard. A subtle, profound mystery lingered in his flat, monotonous voice. Anyone who saw Jekyeong now would have mistaken him for a Daoist master of deep cultivation or a highly devout Buddhist monk.
"..." Cheongo sat with eyes closed atop the glowing nest that had been painstakingly restored. At first, the bird had been terrified that Jekyeong might fly into another rage at any moment, but now, it was completely absorbed in the low murmur of Jekyeong's voice. The Seonin... Though its body rested on the luxurious nest inside the cave, Cheongo's mind had drifted back to the ancient past, to the days when it was just a simple crow listening to the Seonin's teachings. Just recalling those memories brought peace to its heart. The Seonin's voice calling its name. The final words he had spoken. And the gentle smile that had followed.
Huh? Lost in nostalgia, Cheongo suddenly realized that Jekyeong's voice had cut off and hurriedly looked up. Jekyeong was still sitting cross-legged, but his previously expressionless face was beginning to contort. "Jekyeong! Wake up!" Cheongo's sharp cry wasn't just verbal. The bird swiftly flew over and began to peck at Jekyeong's head without mercy. "Wake up! Wake up!" Under the force of those highly emotional pecks, Jekyeong let out a sharp groan, snapped back to his senses, and immediately reverted to his true form.
"You..." "Jekyeong, that was dangerous! Dangerous! You almost went wild again!" Jekyeong fell silent as he watched Cheongo flutter in front of his eyes, practically begging for praise. It wasn't me that was in danger, it was your nest. Still, the bird had woken him up in the nick of time, so he couldn't really complain.
By the way... my body definitely grows weaker when I'm transformed. When he was in his true form, the bird could peck at him for a hundred days and it would feel like nothing more than a tickle. But just now, when Cheongo had pecked his head with all its might, it actually hurt quite a bit. Given that it hadn't left a scratch, his transformed body was still far stronger than an ordinary human's, but by Jekyeong's standards—where physical durability was his greatest pride—it was highly unsatisfying.
That aside, it definitely works. It felt like he had held out for about an hour, maybe even longer. It was still insufficient, but compared to his very first transformation, it was a massive leap forward. The White Mountain Heart-Clearing Mantra. That was the incantation Jekyeong had been reciting just now. It possessed the effect of clearing the mind, and according to Gwak Jeong-sin, it was quite popular among cultivators undergoing mental training.
The mantra's effect is real. The problem is that it only works properly as long as I keep reciting it. If he kept chanting, he could maintain his sanity for roughly an hour. But the moment he stopped, rage would bubble up in less than ten minutes. Even that ten-minute window was a hard-won progress, slowly extended through his steady practice of the White Mountain Heart-Clearing Mantra. To properly practice a cultivation method, I need to be able to maintain my sanity for at least two hours without reciting the Heart-Clearing Mantra. He still had a long, long way to go. At this snail's pace, there was no telling when he would ever reach his goal.
"Are you going to do it again right away?" "No. I'll rest a bit first." Though he wanted to practice the mantra even while resting, unfortunately, the Heart-Clearing Mantra could only be practiced while in human form. He wondered why a mere mental mantra, which wasn't even a proper cultivation method, had such a restriction... but what could he do? That was reality.
"Jekyeong! Can't I learn that? Do I really have to become human?" "Yes." Cheongo snorted, sitting in its nest with a disgruntled look. Ever since Jekyeong first recited the Heart-Clearing Mantra, the bird had shown great interest, claiming it reminded it of the Seonin. It had been begging to learn it ever since. Unfortunately, the mantra could only be practiced by humans. For Cheongo to practice it, the bird would have to at least reach the Great Yao realm and master a Transformation Secret Art. Blocked by the cold wall of reality, Cheongo was reluctant to accept it, but it would have to eventually.
Can that fellow ever become a Great Yao? Jekyeong didn't know if Cheongo possessed a bloodline. However, considering how the bird had awakened as a Demon Beast in the first place, it was highly likely it had none. If so, becoming a Great Demon Beast was near impossible. It might be possible if it used a method like mine, but... It was too difficult. Finding a spiritual item to use as a Spirit Seed was hard enough, but planting the Spirit Seed and cultivating a spiritual nature was on a whole different level of difficulty. Jekyeong believed his method was the very path chosen by the first Great Demon Beasts in the ancient past, back when bloodlines didn't even exist.