The Envoy of Gyeongwang Palace
Although Han Cheongyu and the other workers had been granted permission to enter Heukgyodo, their access was strictly limited to the spiritual rice fields. Even with this restriction, the cultivation area was far too vast for a crew of fewer than ten to manage, leaving them with absolutely no leisure to wonder about what lay beyond the boundaries. They had spent days casting the Spirit Rain Technique, leaving them utterly exhausted in both mind and body, yet vast stretches of the ash-gray soil remained dry.
"Whew." Han Cheongyu cast the Spirit Rain Technique one last time, coaxing a gentle drizzle over the scorched earth. Squeezing out the very last drops of his spiritual energy made him feel as if his soul itself were shriveling. It was a sensation far worse than mere physical exhaustion. No matter how many times he endured this unpleasant feeling, he could never get used to it.
"Tired?"
"Of course I'm tired."
What a stupid question, he thought. He had lost count of how many times he had cast the Spirit Rain Technique today alone... Wait. Whose voice was that? His fellow workers should all be busy watering their own designated sectors. Besides, this voice sounded entirely unfamiliar.
"Huh?" Startled, Han Cheongyu looked up and saw a massive crow. The bird was staring blankly at him, its expression uncannily... human.
"Hmm... You don't look that tired to me." The crow tilted its head from side to side as if lost in thought. "You're weak, aren't you?"
Ever since Jekyeong had allowed Han Cheongyu and the others onto Heukgyodo, he had kept his divine sense active to monitor them. Thus, he immediately noticed when Cheongo, who had been loitering around the spiritual rice fields, finally approached Han Cheongyu.
He held out longer than I expected.
Cheongo had been bursting with curiosity ever since the workers first set foot on the island. For the bird to have waited this long was a monumental display of patience.
Crunch!
Confirming that Cheongo had no intention of harming Han Cheongyu, Jekyeong withdrew his divine sense and popped two more spirit stones into his mouth. With a slight squeeze of his jaws, the low-grade stones crumbled into powder and slid down his throat.
Mmm.
A thin, faint stream of spiritual energy seeped into his physical and spiritual form. Jekyeong focused intensely, observing its minute flow. This was a hobby-turned-cultivation-exercise he had picked up recently: observing how the energy from spirit stones affected his shedding process.
Was that too little?
The flow of energy trickling into his body abruptly cut off. Or rather, it became too faint. It had thinned out to the point where his sensory abilities could no longer trace its path. Clicking his tongue, Jekyeong picked up more spirit stones. Four this time.
This isn't easy.
Though he had doubled the amount, the result was largely the same. He could observe the flow for a fraction longer, but it made no significant difference.
The efficiency is a bit lacking.
Tracking such a microscopic current of energy demanded immense concentration. A single session was enough to leave his head throbbing. Consequently, he could only manage this training two, at most three times a day. Furthermore, his focus degraded sharply after the first attempt, requiring him to consume double the amount of spirit stones just to perceive the flow, as he had just done.
Still, it's a massive improvement compared to when I first started.
Looking at his progress so far, this was essentially training to strengthen his concentration and inner perception. Though the progress was minute, Jekyeong could feel his observational capacity steadily sharpening.
Crunch!
After chewing and swallowing eight more spirit stones as a final set, Jekyeong grimaced and raised his massive body. His chest felt congested, and his head felt like it was about to split open. He needed to go outside and get some fresh air.
Thud!
Jekyeong immediately departed the island. He wasn't worried about the human workers left behind. Even in his absence, Cheongo and Muk-su were on the island. What could a handful of early-stage Qi Condensation cultivators possibly do?
Since he was already out, Jekyeong spent the next few days patrolling his waters. Perhaps because he had violently driven off several Great Yao in the past, very few intruders had been snooping around lately. On rare occasions, some obviously dim-witted beasts would wander across the border, but a simple threat was always enough to send them running with their tails between their legs.
Hmm?
On the fifth day since leaving the island, just as Jekyeong was preparing to head back, he sensed a presence rapidly approaching from the distance and tensed. It was a Great Yao. However, its speed and the sheer magnitude of its aura were on an entirely different level from the ones he had encountered before.
Mid-stage Great Yao? Or late-stage?
Jekyeong momentarily debated whether to flee, but quickly realized the futility of the thought. The approaching beast was faster than him and was heading directly in his direction. Even if he turned and fled right this second, he would inevitably be overtaken.
How did it detect me?
He was actively maintaining his presence-concealing technique.
Dammit.
Jekyeong's mind raced. Should he fight? If there was no other choice, he would have to, but for now, he needed to exercise restraint. The opponent seemed to have sought him out intentionally, which meant they had a specific purpose.
Are they after my territory? No. If that were the case, the Black Flood Dragon Gang would have been wiped out long ago. Did they come specifically for me, then?
He didn't have long to ponder. The intruder closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and Jekyeong was soon able to make out its form with his bare eyes. The creature was an aquatic beast resembling a seahorse. It possessed four eyes and three long, trailing tails. Though abnormally massive as expected of a Great Yo-beast, it was relatively modest compared to Jekyeong's colossal size. Overall, its appearance wasn't particularly striking. Yet, in stark contrast to its plain exterior, the aura it radiated was incredibly intense.
The moment Jekyeong laid eyes on it, he was instantly reminded of Chaesan Noyao—specifically, the overwhelming presence that had felt as though it were crushing his very soul even during their brief encounter.
Though it doesn't seem quite as oppressive as that...
Jekyeong couldn't be certain if this seahorse's cultivation realm was comparable to Chaesan Noyao's. Back then, he had been a mere low-level Yo-beast, whereas now he was a Great Yao. Standing at a different height naturally changed one's perspective of the same object. Even taking that into account, however, this seahorse was truly extraordinary. Just as Jekyeong was observing the seahorse, the creature was also watching him intently as it glided closer. Its movements were so fluid and effortless that it seemed to be one with the water itself.
Look at him.
Jekyeong noted that the seahorse's demeanor was remarkably cautious. Every nuance of its approach and the way its eyes scanned him betrayed deep wariness and deliberation. It was a look Jekyeong knew all too well.
Is this one mistaking me for a Gyo-ryong too?
Instantly, Jekyeong relaxed his tense muscles and summoned his confidence. He narrowed his eyes slightly, baring a sliver of his fangs. He slipped into his role as a majestic Gyo-ryong as naturally as breathing.
The performance, backed by his very soul, yielded immediate results. The seahorse's posture grew even more guarded, and a flicker of hesitation appeared in its four eyes. The two faced each other, maintaining a slight distance. Jekyeong swept his gaze up and down the seahorse's body with an air of ferocity and arrogance. Uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny, the seahorse shrank back slightly.
"Ahem. I am Makgye of the Gyeongwang Palace. And you are...?"
"Gyeongwang Palace?"
As Jekyeong reacted to the name, Makgye's voice gained a touch of confidence.
"Indeed. Since you have established yourself in Yangseo Lake, surely you have heard the honorable name of the Jansu Whale King?"
"Jansu Whale King..."
Jekyeong almost nodded vigorously in recognition, but he quickly reined in his emotions and maintained his act. He murmured the name softly as if searching through deeply buried memories, before replying with cool indifference, as though he had only just recalled it.
"I've heard of him."
"Ahem! The Jansu Whale King is the master of the Gyeongwang Palace and the sovereign of all Yao factions in Yangseo Lake."
Clearly displeased by Jekyeong's lackluster response, Makgye spoke with greater emphasis, launching into an explanation of the Jansu Whale King's greatness. He spoke of his extraordinary lineage, his immense power, and his legendary feats. As if demanding that Jekyeong show proper respect to the Yao King, Makgye's long-winded praise dragged on. Yet, even as he prattled on, Makgye was covertly studying Jekyeong's reactions. Although Jekyeong didn't consciously perceive this subtle scrutiny, he never let his performance slip. Consequently, all Makgye saw was a Great Yao who remained entirely cold and aloof, looking utterly unimpressed even while listening to tales of a mighty Yao King.
This fellow...
Makgye's mind grew troubled. When he had first heard rumors of a black Gyo-ryong appearing, he had dismissed them as mere nonsense. Even as the rumors persisted, he had sneered, thinking that ignorant beasts were spreading absurd fabrications. Thus, when he received direct orders to investigate, he had internally grumbled about being saddled with a tedious chore...
Is he truly a Gyo-ryong?
Makgye possessed some knowledge about Gyo-ryong, but he had never seen one in the flesh. Perhaps because of this, he couldn't bring himself to be certain, even with the creature standing right before his eyes. Its cultivation realm was far too low to belong to a Gyo-ryong, and the pressure it exerted was too faint. After all, the world was full of creatures that were massive in size but utterly lacking in substance. Looking at him from various angles, this beast seemed far too lacking to be a true Gyo-ryong. Yet, to say he wasn't one... there was something undeniably extraordinary about him at first glance. It wasn't just his appearance; there was an indescribable quality that set him apart from ordinary Great Yao. Whether it was his aura or his temperament, something was distinctly different.
And that arrogant attitude of his.
To maintain such a crooked posture even after hearing the name of the Whale King. Had any other beast behaved this way, Makgye would have taught them a harsh lesson on the spot. Yet, he felt no such urge toward this creature; if anything, he felt a strange reluctance to provoke him.
He clearly seems weaker than me, but...
Makgye possessed a natural talent. It was the ability to sense the strength of others, which he could utilize in various ways: wide-range scouting, gauging an opponent's relative power, and so on. While Makgye's combat prowess was not particularly outstanding for his realm, this innate ability had kept him safe and sound throughout his life. By avoiding the strong and fighting only the weak, he had never found himself in true peril.
Yet now, for the first time in his life, Makgye doubted his own gift. He couldn't tell if the Great Yao before him was a Gyo-ryong or not, nor could he even discern whether the beast was stronger or weaker than himself. Having never experienced such a failure before, his bewilderment only grew.