Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Yuyeon Catches the Tiger (2)
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People called this land by many names, but to the tiger, there was only one. His territory.
The tiger had lived his life as the mountain lord, reigning with unyielding pride. Then one day, after devouring a deer, he opened his eyes to a world in ruins.
When he had no territory, roaming as a mere beast among beasts had been thrilling and confident. But territory was the cradle of intelligence, and that first step marked self-awareness.
Distinguishing himself from the world, comparing himself to it—this tiger could no longer see himself as the majestic mountain lord. He was a pitiful being, trapped in a beast's body, doomed to death.
There was only one way to soothe this sorrow: devour other sorrowful beings and push death back, even a single step.
And so the tiger ravaged his domain, consuming every creature that seemed to possess territory. When that failed to quell his grief, by chance he struck down a human.
Just like that first awakening, his mind expanded, and some of his sorrow lifted. Yet he still felt lowly, so he filled himself with more humans.
Thankfully, more fools appeared to comfort him. The tiger drove them to bring greater solace.
Finally, after another expansion, he observed himself. He had ascended to the Qi Refining Stage as a yao spirit. Now, nothing could frighten him—or so he thought that day.
Even surveying beyond his territory, nothing remained to ease his sorrow. Irritated and wasting away, he lashed out at his minions for no reason. His temperament grew increasingly bizarre, eventually turning vicious.
He knew nothing but devouring. A beast with territory sought to solve everything by filling his belly, stalling any further progress.
He realized this truth.
Having reached this point, the transcendent sweetness he had tasted became a mere memory. He tried to numb his heart, feigning world-weary indifference to console himself.
But on that day when the sky shattered with pouring rain and crashing thunder, the mountain lord sensed it as heaven's rebuke. Terrified and beside himself, he huddled in his den until he felt something powerful crash into his territory.
And from the bottom of a certain lake, he retrieved it. It looked like a tool crafted by humans.
He didn't know its origin or purpose, only that absorbing its energy would advance his cultivation. He didn't hesitate.
He claimed it in the way he knew best: by devouring it to fill his belly.
From then on, black saliva constantly welled in his mouth. With it, he could kill the living and command the dead to serve him. Thus, for decades, he preyed on passersby in the mountains, subjugating them.
Then, by chance, he encountered that being. Faintly, but unmistakably of his own caliber—the first he'd met. Instinct told him devouring it would finally propel him to the next realm. The sweet fruit of transcendence dangled before him.
The once young and majestic tiger was gone. Now a frenzied beast slunk down the ridge.
Black sludge drooled from his maw, and his ink-black stripes bristled with trophies refined from that saliva. He wore them like an emperor's crown.
The shaman could guess its nature. No demonic beast or yao spirit twisted like that from mere eccentric training. This was a malformed monster that had overreached, seizing something beyond its station and had fallen into a Rare Tribulation
The shaman fought valiantly but couldn't win. The tiger swung a forepaw, shattering the shaman's life-saving dharma tool, then impaled his abdomen with its tail.
Facing death from this freakish monster snapped the shaman awake with insight. He unleashed his original ghost, forcing it into the tiger's maw.
As the tiger instinctively refined it to claim as his own, he erred by taking what already belonged to another. The ghost rebelled against its new master, triggering the pre-engraved prohibitions. It tore apart, and the backlash struck the tiger.
In that instant, the shaman forcibly swallowed the black saliva pouring from the tiger's body, sensing the twisted bond forming toward him. Seizing the moment while the monster's soul reeled, he unleashed his remaining dharma power for his own backlash.
As the tiger lost consciousness, the suppressed Corpse Ghosts responded, toying with their master at will.
Already bereft of reason, the tiger was fully subdued and sealed. Thus, the shaman claimed all the tiger's ghosts and the treasure in its belly.
Sensing a new path to cultivation open before him, he gave thanks to heaven.
Yes, it was a confluence of coincidences, like heaven's own design.
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As Yuyeon had sensed from the start, this wouldn't be resolved by mere persuasion.
The moment she resolved to act, the spiritual meridians in her body shifted. The formation for Concealing Form rearranged into a simple circle, allowing spiritual energy to flow to any part of her body at will.
Soon, Yuyeon flicked her hand, unleashing a fiercer, wilder version of the gentle breeze she'd summoned in the village. Infused with fire and wood energies among the five elements, a scorching gale erupted.
Though not true spellcraft, merely manipulating spiritual energy with immense force—while harmonizing two distinct energies—created perfect synergy in itself.
Spellcraft was the art of forging unseen harmonies to manifest phenomena. By common knowledge in the cultivation world, this required the Qi Refining soul formation to generate dharma power. Thus, only from the Qi Refining Stage did one claim the title of cultivator.
In essence, spells first birthed novel harmonies, then evoked their phenomena.
But lacking dharma power, Yuyeon first manifested the phenomenon with spiritual energy and shaped it. Through wood nourishing fire, the harmony ignited a blazing windstorm.
Fire energy was the most yang and volatile; ghost energy yin and chilling. When opposites clashed, they unraveled. Thus, the ghost artifacts crumbled instantly, souls rising free.
Yuyeon couldn't tend to each one individually, so she infused more spiritual energy into her gale, driving them into the cave. The fire-laced windstorm battered inward, trapping them and intensifying the heat.
The shaman pinched a mudra with his fingers, unleashing a torrent of yin ghost energy extracted from the Corpse Ghosts plastered throughout the cave.
As yin clashed with yang, the gale's effect twisted. Yin and yang weren't about dominance; they resisted until the greater force triggered change. Yuyeon's scorching blast met overpowering yin chill, cooling as the cave grew damp.
"What are you, girl? Strutting like you wield Divine Sense, but you're just an Entrance Stage wretch who can't even form spells!"
To avoid direct confrontation, Yuyeon layered earth energy into the gale. Wood fueled fire for deeper harmony, then earth from fire's generation turned the wind into a dense ash cloud under her command.
Yuyeon had no intention of brawling amid the Corpse Ghost mass inside the cave. She whipped the ash into a frenzy, permeating it with earth to crumble the walls and ceiling.
She planned to bury them. Dead things anyway—better a swift funeral, proper and efficient.
But the tiger, gaping like a corpse, shuddered. From the black ink-lake pooling in its maw, a pitch arm thrust out.
Impossibly elongating, it braced the collapsing ceiling; branch-like tendrils sprouted from the hand, propping up the cave.
Unforeseen, Yuyeon pondered her next move.
Then the shaman, linked to the tiger's tail, spat ghost fire from his eyes in rage.
"Heh heh... Little immortal, no wonder your bluster rang false. You're just an unweaned brat not even ten. Impressive for your age, but that talent-bred arrogance has blocked your path."
Soon, the ink-black tiger stirred, shrouded in sludge. Like a bizarre shadow puppet, it held its head and torso rigid while ink tendrils rose from its body, wriggling like insect legs to drag it forward.
Its four legs scraped along the ground. Occasionally, one jerked up offbeat. The tiger's spasming form was grotesque, evoking pity.
The shaman, dangling from the tail, couldn't move his lower body and simply trailed along. The tail's abdominal wound gaped, oozing black congealed blood.
As the two abominations exited, the ink tendrils supporting the cave retracted to the tiger, collapsing the ceiling in a dust cloud.
"Daring to toy with this Qi Refining cultivator? But I'm merciful. Little immortal, I'll specially refine you to Qi Refining, then graft you onto this tiger's forepaw. I'll grow stronger, and you'll edge toward the Equipment Stage together."
His words, utterly devoid of jest, made Yuyeon consider fleeing outright.
From the start, hadn't she planned to deploy Concealing Form Formation and escape if cornered?
But shifting to it required halting spiritual energy flow for reconfiguration. If she landed a solid blow needing recovery time, then fled, the villagers could escape too.
Beyond that, probing with Divine Sense, she sensed his self-proclaimed Qi Refining wasn't overwhelmingly superior. Winnable.
Her spiritual energy reserves even outmatched his; victory odds better than he boasted.
Resolved, the tiger's tail whipped, flailing the shaman like a mace.
Yuyeon judged close combat preferable to vague five-elements arts. She met it head-on. The shaman sneered at an Entrance Stage runt challenging him, slamming down his arm.
Yuyeon had anticipated it, applying a refined footwork variant from past experience.
Previously, she'd mimicked Namgung Humyeong's footwork superficially. Reflecting deeply, she'd devised something better.
To her, good footwork evaded while seizing optimal positioning and channeling inner power for seamless follow-up attacks, retaining initiative.
Namgung's especially blended stillness and motion—free yet unshakable, superb origin unknown.
Her prior version relied on weight shifts between heel and ball for a pillar stance.
But that was mere first step. A genius would craft the second; a grandmaster link them into true footwork via profound principles.
Yet Yuyeon, no martial artist but cultivator, skipped steps. Instead of sequencing, she contemplated motion versus stillness.
Thus questioning reliance on weight shifts and footwork, she pondered true freedom—and created it.
She lunged with her right foot, propelling forward while her left stayed grounded, speed undiminished.
Unnamed—for she hadn't dubbed it—this footwork unwittingly applied escapist dharma principles between foot and ground.
Escape arts built on transformation spells, akin to martial lightness skills for evasion.
True ones combined seals at Decision realm or higher.
Hers was primitive foundation toward that.
Inspired by skating, she'd refined to ignore inertia via profound principles: "motion arts," gliding ground-bound freely.
Using it, she evaded the shaman's first strike, circled behind. En route, she coiled both arms, gathering max tension for a strike.
The shaman's swing missed, unbalancing him; Yuyeon unleashed twin palms.
Not foolish, he twisted via tail to dodge.
But Yuyeon's feet moved freely despite grounding, matching his evasion speed. Twin palms smashed his wing bones.
Impacts detonated prepared power, severing both arms at shoulders.
"How, at your level...!"
Body ruined, twisted, numb to pain—he didn't flinch at lost arms.
Half-ghost already, two nascent ghost clumps slithered up the tail as new arms. He flung himself mace-like again.
As Yuyeon slid to evade like before, one ink tendril laden with Corpse Ghost energy struck with delay.
Adjusting motion art subtlety—one foot advancing, one pillar—she pivoted on right foot, spinning past the tendril.
Couldn't fully dodge flesh charge, so she countered with palms to offset assault.
Soon, shaman's right fist met her palms.
Massive shock threatened internals, but at peak, she uprooted her pillar feet.
Now an eight-year-old girl's light weight, she took the blow by flying back, dispersing force.
Distance gaped unwittingly; no choice but hesitate—then whirl and flee, prepping Concealing Form.
Unexpecting outright flight, the shaman blanked briefly, then raged and mocked in pursuit.
"Stop, brat! Where do you think you're going, leaving this elder?"
The massive tiger pursued with grotesque ink tentacles; Yuyeon's Divine Sense pierced her back, vision full-sensory, spine tingling.
Fortune favored small, nimble Yuyeon; insufficient to catch.
Spotting chance, she leaped airborne, vanishing amid branches and leaves. No clairvoyance trained, the shaman lost her momentarily.
Physics dictated descent; he predicted landing from trajectory, prepping attack.
But midair Yuyeon blinked out of inspiration, landing nowhere—gone.
Truly rattled, the shaman scanned everywhere.
No trace of Yuyeon.