Chapter 51
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 51
As Park Gang-seo had said, the Main Mountain was vast.
In truth, it was far too vast.
Even though they only skimmed the exteriors at a brisk pace, moving quickly from one area to the next, the tour took well over half a day.
The northern and central sections of the Main Mountain were divided into eight distinct districts.
The Living District: home to the cultivators' private residences, rest areas, and tranquil parks.
The Research District: a hub of pill furnaces, laboratories, and scripture halls, packed with workshops dedicated to artifact crafting, alchemy, talisman making, and formation deployment.
The Administrative District: the beating heart of the Great Martial Dao that managed every matter, big and small. This included general administration, mission assignments, contribution points, messenger talisman networks, security, and dispute resolution.
The Training District: where cultivators could spar with one another or rent combat puppets for live combat practice.
The Cultivation District: filled with private secret caves, closed-door cultivation chambers, and public meditation grounds.
The Commercial District: a bustling hub of various markets, including the famous Full Moon Market.
The Production District: dedicated to farming, livestock, aquaculture, and other resource gathering.
And finally, the Memorial District: a sprawling cemetery honoring the deceased.
Looking thoroughly exhausted, Park Gang-seo finally stepped into a building in the Memorial District. The sign above the entrance read 'Memorial Hall'.
Inside, a fair number of their peers who had also recently become formal disciples were already gathered.
“This is where the bodies and belongings of deceased disciples are kept to honor their memory,” Park Gang-seo explained. “Some of your peers' belongings are probably here too. Over there.”
He pointed toward a row of memorial tablets inscribed with the names of fallen initiate disciples. Among them was Yeom Bo.
“If you ever lose someone, you'll end up coming here often... but I hope you never have cause to visit this place.”
With those solemn words, Park Gang-seo led the group toward the central Administrative District.
This area boasted the most urban atmosphere on the Main Mountain. The buildings were grand and towering, featuring unfamiliar architectural styles.
Park Gang-seo mentioned that these structures had been built to imitate the architecture of other continents.
Their destination was the Name Registry Pavilion, the facility that managed the official rosters of all Great Martial Dao disciples.
Ise approached the cultivator in charge of administrative duties.
“Show me the back of your hand.”
Ise held out his hand. Instantly, the seal of the Great Martial Dao and his own name materialized on his skin.
The cultivator scanned the mark with an unfamiliar dharma artifact, then handed Ise an identity token forged from a uniquely colored metal.
[Ise. Formal Disciple. Unaffiliated.]
The details were perfectly concise.
“Your residence is the third room on the left, third floor, west wing of the 1st Cheongyu Pavilion. If you lose that token, reissuing it will cost a fine of ten spirit stones.”
“Understood.”
Ise gave a brief nod and slipped the identity token into his storage pouch.
“Do you wish to register as an official or a mission-taker? Officials must take responsibility for specific, ongoing duties within the Main Mountain, while mission-takers need only complete one official mission per year.”
“I'll be a mission-taker.”
“Duly noted. You may take your first mission after the turn of the year. Should you change your mind, you may switch your status on the first day of any new year.”
It wasn't a difficult choice. Ise had heard that official roles were generally meant for those who lacked combat talent and had given up on ghost exorcism work.
Once their business at the Name Registry Pavilion concluded, a look of profound relief washed over Park Gang-seo's face.
However, despite the tour being officially over, the other newcomers showed no signs of leaving his side.
They looked around like lost puppies unleashed in an unfamiliar place, practically clinging to his coattails.
Park Gang-seo scowled and waved his hand impatiently.
“My job ends here. Go look around, go cultivate—do whatever you want, just stop following me. Senior, I'll guide you through the rest.”
Faced with such blatant favoritism, the other disciples couldn't bring themselves to complain. They hesitated for a moment before shuffling off. Ise bade farewell to his peers with a curt nod.
It was a stark reminder that having a low cultivation realm in this place brought endless indignities.
“Senior. Is there anything else you're curious about?”
“Nothing in particular. I just want to take a closer look around.”
“Shall I show you around?”
“I'd appreciate that.”
“Where do you want to start?”
“First, the Scripture Hall. I'm also curious if the Four Arts Room has a place to make spirit food, like the butchery at the Training Center. And shouldn't we check out the Production District too? I noticed earlier that they were raising spirit herbs and spirit beasts there.”
As Ise rattled off his interests, excitedly counting them on his fingers, Park Gang-seo chuckled.
“At moments like this, you really just look like a young boy. Well, let me take you to the nearest one first.”
The Production District was neatly partitioned like a Go board.
Fences divided the fertile dirt into perfect squares. Various kinds of spirit herbs and spirit trees were planted within each plot, and wooden stakes at the entrances bore the names of their respective owners.
On the opposite side stood numerous livestock pens of varying shapes and sizes.
The facilities lined up in a long row, looking as if the animal pens he had seen in a wealthy neighbor's courtyard during his childhood had been transplanted here in their entirety.
Except, every animal inside was a spirit beast.
The caliber of these creatures was vastly different from ordinary livestock. Abundant spiritual energy emanated from even a simple calf.
Approaching a nearby garden plot, Ise noticed a white orb about the size of a human fist embedded beside the signpost.
Sensing his presence, it slowly spun around. Then, it opened an eye and blinked.
It wasn't an orb at all. It was a literal eyeball.
Ise reflexively yanked his hand back.
“That's called a Recording Eye,” Park Gang-seo said.
“That startled me.”
“Like a Yu Yeong-seok, it's a dharma artifact that records events exactly as it sees them. It's used as evidence in case of theft or vandalism, so don't touch it recklessly. Mess with it the wrong way, and you'll be dragged to the Discipline Pavilion and harassed for three days straight.”
Though Park Gang-seo spoke with the intent to intimidate, Ise's interest lay elsewhere.
“Is it expensive?”
“Extremely.”
What a shame. It would be immensely useful to have one. Ise pushed the lingering regret aside.
The livestock pens were the same. Each enclosure had a signpost and a Recording Eye attached as a pair.
Inside one of them, a Qi Refining cultivator squatted beside a cow-like spirit beast, diligently milking it.
Park Gang-seo offered the man a brief nod, which the cultivator acknowledged with a slight wave.
“By the way, Gang-seo.”
“Yeah?”
“Why do the disciples of the Great Martial Dao raise spirit beasts and spirit creatures? Aren't we supposed to protect them?”
“Of course we protect them. Just look at those cows. Don't they look like they're living the good life?”
Park Gang-seo snickered, pointing at a dairy spirit beast. The beast snorted violently in return, as if asking what he was staring at.
“Meditation and ghost exorcism work alone can't provide enough resources for everyone's cultivation. So, the sect permits a certain degree of resource production and usage.”
Ise listened quietly to the explanation.
“In exchange, the rules are incredibly strict. For example, slaughtering is only allowed for spirit beasts that die of natural causes. The same goes for harvesting. You can only pick fruits or grains; uprooting the whole plant is strictly forbidden. What cultivators obtain are the byproducts of spirit creatures, not the creatures themselves.”
“I see. So spirit beasts are mostly raised to produce milk like that.”
“Milk is the most common, but there's plenty else to gather. Fur, claws, shed skins. And things like dung.”
“...Dung?”
“The dung of certain spirit beasts carries a strong spiritual nature.”
“No matter how beneficial it might be, I really wouldn't want to eat that.”
“Who said anything about eating it?! Why do you connect everything to food, Senior? Spirit beast dung is mixed with crushed spirit stones, ordinary dirt, and other materials to create spiritual soil. It's a fantastic fertilizer for the gardens.”
As they exchanged trivial banter, a messenger talisman flew toward Park Gang-seo from the sky.
Park Gang-seo opened and read it, smacking his lips in regret.
“Ah... Senior Han Jae is calling for me. He wants me to finish up a mission report.”
“Go ahead. Thanks for your help.”
Park Gang-seo pointed toward the northeast.
“For the Research District, just keep walking straight this way. You won't get lost like a kid, right? I'll come check out the Exchange Meeting in a few days. See you then.”
Waving goodbye, Park Gang-seo disappeared into the deeper parts of the Main Mountain.
* * *
The Main Mountain's Scripture Hall was not just a single building. There were ten in total, ranging from the 1st Pavilion to the 10th Pavilion.
The higher the number, the grander the scale.
The 10th Pavilion, situated deepest within the complex, possessed a grandeur comparable to the Inner Hall of the Ghost-Guarding Temple.
Ise's heart pounded with excitement.
New cultivation arts. New dharma spells. New knowledge.
Any of it would do, so long as it quenched his thirst for strength. It was for this very moment that he had hoarded his contribution points.
Naturally, his feet carried him straight toward the largest building, the 10th Pavilion. Yet no sooner had he stepped up to the entrance than his path was blocked.
The Foundation Establishment cultivator guarding the doors waved a hand dismissively.
“A new disciple?”
“Yes.”
“Turn back. Go start from the 1st Pavilion.”
Ise retreated without a word of complaint.
Composing himself, he headed to the doors of the 1st Pavilion. Inside, a 3-Star Qi Refining cultivator—who looked to be around the same age as Ise's fellow newcomers—was manning the front desk.
“I need to verify your identity token, Senior!”
“Here.”
When Ise presented his identity token, the cultivator carefully pressed a dharma artifact against it.
“125 contribution points confirmed. You may enter.”
“May I ask you something?”
“Yes! What are you curious about?”
“How do I spend my contribution points?”
“...Pardon?”
“I heard you have to pay contribution points to acquire secret manuals.”
A flicker of confusion crossed the cultivator's face. Then, as if suddenly realizing something, he lightly clapped his hands together.
“Are you... a new formal disciple?”
“That's right.”
“And yet your cultivation realm is... Ah! You're an externally recruited disciple! I'm sorry, I misunderstood for a moment!”
“...?”
“Contribution points aren't used as payment here; they're the entry requirement! You need one hundred points to enter the 1st Pavilion, five hundred for the 2nd Pavilion, and so on. Directly paying contribution points for manual copies only applies to the 10th Pavilion!”
Ise's eyes sparkled at this newly acquired knowledge.
It seemed that only the truly important secret manuals were stored in the 10th Pavilion and required contribution points to purchase. The rest were freely accessible to disciples.
“Are there any time limits or restrictions on reading?”
“Well... wouldn't the size of your wallet be the restriction, Senior?”
“Didn't you just say contribution points aren't spent? I thought we were free to read them?”
“Haha, what a joke! Of course not. We take spirit stones! The price tags are attached at the bottom of each bookshelf!”
“...”
What a bunch of misers.
Ise stood frozen in place for a long while. In his mind, he could practically hear the phantom sound of his spirit stone pouch growing lighter.
This wasn't a Daoist temple; it was a den of loan sharks.
Muttering curses under his breath, Ise finally stepped inside.
Compared to his grand expectations, the selection inside was somewhat underwhelming.
Most of the secret manuals overlapped almost completely with the ones available at the Cheongsan Training Center's Scripture Hall.
Though he spotted a few unfamiliar spell books—such as body-cleansing spells, lock-picking spells, and field-plowing spells—their prices were by no means cheap.
Even a basic introductory guide to spirit rice cultivation was selling for a higher price than it did at the bookstore in front of the Training Center.
And to think I almost bought it... I'd better just save up my contribution points and head to the upper pavilions.
He couldn't afford to squander his hard-earned spirit stones on this.
Ise purchased only an information book titled Latest Supplement on Qi Refining Stage Demon Ghosts and a manual on the Meridian-Severing Art, then left without lingering regrets.
The excitement that had filled his heart upon entering evaporated entirely by the time he stepped back outside.
He had barely taken a single step out from beneath the eaves of the 1st Pavilion.
A sudden rustle of clothing came from above his head.
Faster than instinct, his hand shot toward his small axe. But before his fingertips could even brush the hilt, someone alighted gracefully just a step away from him.
A white Daoist robe. A plain white mask obscuring their entire face. Only the piercing gaze filtering through the eyeholes was fixed squarely upon him.
The figure wasn't particularly tall. Judging by the line of their shoulders, it was hard to declare them a man, yet awkward to call them a woman—an ambiguous silhouette that subtly belonged to neither.
Ise slowly withdrew his hand and took a step back.
He couldn't fathom the stranger's cultivation realm at all.
And in this place, being unfathomable meant only one thing.
Core Formation Stage. A Hall Master of the Eleventh Inner Hall.
Ise immediately adjusted his posture and bowed his head in deep respect.
“Ise?”
“Yes.”
“Woo Yu-hee.”
“...Winged Dragon Hall Master.”
“I dropped by briefly... just because I wanted to see your face.”
A breath akin to a faint laugh escaped from behind the white mask.