The Absurd Mortar

I opened the skill window to check, and only now did a single option finally pop out. Until now Reality Denial had been nothing but five worthless “Unknown” options, and the truth that revealed itself was that the skill had been carrying an even more penalty-like option the entire time.

So that was why mental debuffs had always chewed straight through my stat resistance or stuck to me with weirdly high success rates?! It was you all along!!!

Or was it just that the real me and our mental fortitude were made of glass?

“You mortals are too damn loud!”

At least you lot should block a little better!

But you’re the cultivator who can’t resist them, and you’re telling us ordinary people to stop them? Isn’t that a little… lacking in conscience?

“You already took all the conscience for yourselves, didn’t you?!”

I have some too. I’m me, after all. Enough conscience to revive the humanities of my past life, even.

“Conscience, my ass. Why would a cultivator like me need something like that?”

Having it would only be inconvenient. If I’d truly possessed something like a conscience in the first place—if I’d really had one—

“My little newborn.”

“Ah, Elder Togo.”

Only then did the murderous gaze of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the tiny newborn turn toward him. Togo confirmed that those eyes—normally blood-red yet so vivid they sparkled—were now so clouded and murky they had lost all their luster. The newborn who had shown no reaction to spiritual energy or presence, yet responded only to killing intent, was pulled straight into his arms and wrapped in a warm embrace.

“Do not be so impatient. A cultivator’s training is not something that ends in a mere few hundred years. Even reaching Deity Transformation requires pouring thousands upon tens of thousands of hours into a long, distant path of cultivation. If you only look ahead and keep running, you will fall before you ever reach the end.”

The newborn feared the future. She was so endlessly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impatient that, from what he had heard, she was even trying to lay hands on forbidden arts. Worried for her, Togo simply stroked her in silence and shared his warmth.

“You may take it as nagging if you like. I believe the day will come when my little newborn understands my words. So for now, rest a little.”

“…This just feels like a pure griefing troll telling me to go to sleep mid-raid.”

Even as she spat out those still-incomprehensible words in a blunt tone, a faint gloss returned to the newborn’s eyes. Seeing that, Togo obediently released the hug when she carefully tried to push his arms away.

“Here. Take this.”

“What is this?”

“Even so, I couldn’t bear to watch my little newborn chewing on rocks and corpses, so while I was out for a walk I made this for you.”

“Back when I was young, the villagers used something like this to make baby food for the other little ones. So please stop tearing metal apart with your teeth, all right?”

“Yes, sir…”

Just in case, I tried feeding spirit stones into it to turn them into spirit-stone powder or liquid, hoping I might absorb them for spiritual energy recovery or better—but it bounced them right back out, saying currency items couldn’t be used.

So I stuck a monster material item in instead, poured in spiritual energy, and the stones spun and spat out powder. Instant powdered medicine, huh?

I shoved it straight into my mouth. It caught a little in my throat, but the absorption was clearly far better than chewing it with teeth wrapped in thick slaughter energy. I could feel the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spiritual energy being drawn directly into my Golden Core.

Ooooooh.

“Elder Togo!!!”

“I wanted to make you a proper spiritual medicine, but I have neither the method to craft one weak enough for a fragile newborn to survive eating, nor the materials of the upper realms. There was nothing I could do.”

And then he casually mentioned that once I leveled up and gathered materials, he could craft even better rare consumables for me. This is exactly why I can’t help but love Elder Togo!

“Um, Elder Togo, if I grind an entire monster whole, would I get even more spiritual energy?”

“Some sects obtain spiritual energy that way. They raise ordinary people in bulk, harvest them when the time comes, and extract the energy. Of course, those among them who possess spiritual roots survive by becoming cultivators themselves. But at your current level, to obtain any meaningful spiritual energy you would need to grind at least several hundred thousand ordinary people.”

“No, not the background lore—I mean cultivators or beast-type monsters.”

“It would depend on their level, what cultivation method they practice, and what kind of spiritual root they possess.”

“So it’s random, basically.”

“Heading out again?”

“Yes. This time I’m going to find a decent sect and wipe it clean.”

“If that is what my little newborn wishes, I cannot stop you. But be careful. Old sects have survived for a reason.”

“Yes. I’ll be back!”

I ground every last material item left at the base through the mortar and absorbed spiritual energy until I could absorb no more. The slaughter energy was still overwhelming, but I had at least managed to force the ratio to nine parts slaughter energy and one part spiritual energy. That should meaningfully raise my experience gain rate!

I tried grinding the material items and equipment that came in from the invasion event too, but maybe because the base level was still low, they had zero effect on me. I just dumped them all on Yeon-a.

Now! I can stack experience! I can stack slaughter energy!!!!

“They just won’t spawn, damn it!”

I wandered the map hunting for a sect, but no matter where I looked they were nowhere to be found. According to Cheon Nan-cho they usually nest in places thick with good spiritual mountains, yet all I kept running into were monster dens and field bosses!

Still, I started diligently scooping up dens and leftover wreckage instead of just walking past them. Yeah? Until now I’d just tossed anything with a lot of spiritual energy and only pocketed high-grade equipment for Spoon use!

There were so many non-stackable items that if I shoved everything in, even with the inventory-expansion mod my bag filled up in no time.

“Who dares raise such a ruckus inside my eastern domain?!”

“Oh. Trash field boss.”

I’d been poking around the spiritual mountains on the minimap looking for a hidden sect, and it felt like neutral NPCs and field bosses that had been lying low were popping out more often than actual monsters.

“You ignored the boundary stone, entered my eastern domain, and dared slaughter every last one of my attendants—so you had better be prepared—?!”

I always thought this, but unlike monsters, the humanoid cultivator field bosses and elites talked way too much. Maybe after being stuck in closed-door training for centuries they’d only learned how to monologue to themselves.

Fine by me. While they were spouting lines, without a special prefix, piece of equipment, or skill they were in a [Defenseless] state, and if you hit them first in that condition [Ambush] applied. So whenever a humanoid cultivator started talking, I just treated it like mashing the skip button—ambush them and start by chopping off a limb.

The sword enhanced by Spoon carved through empty air. The shockwave alone shattered the field boss’s barrier as he tried to dodge, forcing a groan down his throat. He drew what looked like his Natal Dharma Treasure—a sword.

Ah, of course it had to be a combat-type cultivator.

The form of a Natal Dharma Treasure differed completely from cultivator to cultivator. At its core it was another soul linked to the cultivator’s own, so you could treat it as something extremely close to their personal techniques or main skills.

In other words, if their Natal Dharma Treasure took the shape of a “weapon,” that field boss was a cultivator skilled in combat. Skilled enough to still dodge my ambush even mid-conversation.

The moment I floated the master-skill chopsticks behind my back, the field boss finally seemed to realize something. His face went ashen as he pointed a finger at me and shouted.

“The girl with one thousand twenty-four blood-red halos! So you were that Demon Immortal!!!”

How the hell did he count my chopsticks? No—how did he even know about me? Do NPC cultivators have some private news network or contact system only they can see?

“Do not even dream of leaving my eastern domain alive, Demon Immortal!”

Mid-stage Golden Core? His realm was about the same as mine, but the problem was that he was under the [Field Boss Enhancement Mode]. Even though I’d swept every monster in the field and weakened him a little, the mode’s buffs were still heavier. Watching the field boss grip his apparent Natal Dharma Treasure tightly in one hand and radiate thick killing intent, I floated a waterwheel above my head and drank in that killing intent greedily.

What the hell—this is pure free real estate!

The killing intent rising from a sword that had already been steeped so deeply in slaughter energy—I couldn’t even guess how many it had cut—was no joke. I wanted to just keep sucking it dry right then and there.

And if a mere Natal Dharma Treasure, nothing more than a fragment of a soul, was holding this much slaughter energy… just how much slaughter energy was packed into the Golden Core he carried? Looking at a field boss who no longer looked like a boss and instead looked like a giant experience dump, I fired every last chopstick at once.