Awakening (2)
Divine Sense is a form of extrasensory perception—a tangible manifestation of mental power that defines the boundaries of one's consciousness.
Through it, cultivators absorb information far transcending the five physical senses, allowing them to perceive the world and the spiritual energy of heaven and earth with absolute clarity.
Delving deeper, those who attain a certain mastery can even exert physical force through it. With sufficiently delicate control, they can manipulate complex puppets and marionettes entirely at will.
Beyond these applications, Divine Sense possesses another intriguing characteristic.
As a power rooted in the upper dantian, the life one has lived and the emotions one harbors manifest as the color of their Divine Sense.
Yet, despite this individuality, the color of Divine Sense is almost always golden. This is because, among the seven primal emotions, the color representing desire is yellow.
What every cultivator ultimately seeks is to defy the natural order, ascend to immortality, and live forever.
That burning desire is what colors their Divine Sense. While the intensity of the light may vary, it is exceedingly rare for anyone to deviate from this golden hue.
And yet...
"My, my..."
Bizarrely, Dang Sobaek had awakened a Divine Sense of an ashen, grayish-white hue.
It was beyond merely uncommon; it was a color the weasel had never seen in all his lives. Even he could not fathom what it truly signified.
"Should I call this turbid, or pure?"
He couldn't get a grasp on it at all.
Only one thing was certain.
—...Am I qualified?
—Beyond magnificent.
The child cradled in his arms was fundamentally different from the countless spiritual beasts he had encountered throughout his long existence.
"Did you finally pass out?"
Until the very last moment, the chick had struggled desperately to remain conscious. Now, his energy entirely depleted, he had fainted with his eyes still wide open.
It was a truly terrifying display of willpower.
The weasel carried Dang Sobaek and his battered siblings deeper into the temple ruins.
Despite the violence of their clash, the temple had suffered no damage whatsoever.
This was partly because most of the combat had taken place in the air, but also because a strange, ancient spell protected the structure itself.
Even the weasel did not fully comprehend the nature of this magic.
He could only guess that it was a protective ward woven into the very foundations of the temple when it was first constructed in the primordial past.
The weasel bowed respectfully toward the golden statue standing at the center of the hall, then turned to examine the young Jimjos one by one.
"...Hmm."
It seemed he had gotten a bit too carried away.
But as the saying goes, the light burns brightest just before it fades.
Emotions were no different. Only when pushed to the absolute brink of death would they flare up with their most brilliant, intense heat.
His intention had been to use that extreme pressure to force the awakening of their Yo-language.
Furthermore, these chicks had already formed their cores.
He had believed that by orchestrating a desperate, life-or-death scenario and pushing them to their absolute limits, they would naturally unlock the language of spiritual beasts.
And in the end, he had been proven right.
All three of them had successfully awakened their Yo-language.
The only problem was that he had overdone it.
Because their capabilities far exceeded his expectations, he had gotten swept up in the thrill of the fight and failed to properly restrain his strength.
The eldest, who had temporarily transformed into a ghost-beast, lay unconscious with his wing bone snapped backward at a grotesque angle. The female was covered in blood, her body riddled with deep snake-fang punctures.
...
Every single one of them was gravely wounded.
But Dang Sobaek’s condition was by far the worst.
On the surface, he appeared completely unscathed.
However, because he had recklessly forced his spiritual energy, the meridians throughout his entire body were torn to shreds, and his core—his Dokyodan—was spiderwebbed with cracks.
It was not immediately fatal, but if left untreated, it would undoubtedly leave him with permanent, crippling aftereffects.
"If I knew it would come to this, I should have studied Wood-attribute cultivation techniques more seriously. What a hassle."
Among the Five Elements, Wood governed life, and thus most techniques and spells of that attribute focused on healing.
However, he had never bothered to study them deeply. He had never had the need, nor the reason, to do so.
The weasel administered basic first aid to Dang Sobaek first, then turned his attention to Jim-i, whose injuries were the least severe.
A soft, emerald-green spiritual energy emanated from his paws and flowed into Jim-i's body.
Come to think of it, this little girl is quite remarkable herself.
She had seemed the most unremarkable of the three, yet she was the very first to awaken her Yo-language.
And that wasn't all. She had certainly never been taught a proper cultivation technique,
yet the white flames she had unleashed at the end possessed a destructive purity that even the weasel could not easily dismiss.
Since I'm already treating her, I might as well check her spiritual root.
A spiritual root was the innate capacity to sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth—the absolute minimum qualification required to walk the path of cultivation.
Possessing a beast core did not guarantee the presence of a spiritual root. If a beast lacked one, they could never practice cultivation techniques.
They might grow somewhat stronger through raw physical power as a spiritual beast, but ascending to higher realms would remain forever out of reach. At best, they would merely gain basic intelligence and the ability to speak.
Of course, he didn't doubt she possessed one.
Beasts carrying the bloodline of divine beasts were invariably born with spiritual roots. Since the Jimjo could be classified as a divine beast, these chicks would be no exception.
The real question was: what kind of spiritual root did she possess? That was what truly mattered.
The weasel calmly circulated his spiritual energy, projecting his consciousness inside her body to inspect her meridians.
Oh, would you look at this?
It was a Heavenly Spiritual Root, the rarest grade that guaranteed the swiftest cultivation speed. Specifically, she possessed the Heavenly Fire Root.
As long as her comprehension was sufficient, her growth would be meteoric.
And since she had been the first to awaken her Yo-language, her comprehension was likely nothing to worry about.
About the time it takes to drink a cup of tea had passed since he began channeling his energy.
Twitch!
Only then did Jim-i stir, her eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. But her exhaustion was too deep; she immediately drifted back into unconsciousness.
She's stable now.
The real problem was the eldest brother, the one who had wielded ghost qi.
His talent was undeniable.
In terms of raw potential, he might actually be the most gifted of the three.
He hadn't fully processed it during the heat of battle, but...
To withstand and manipulate even a fraction of ghost qi was not something that could be achieved through sheer willpower alone.
He certainly hasn't learned any ghost-path cultivation techniques.
It had to be a matter of his constitution itself.
This was not something that could be diagnosed merely by peering into his meridians. He would need to consult ancient texts.
The problem was that obtaining such specialized texts was utterly impossible on Gwisu Island.
The only reason the weasel had been able to cultivate his own technique was due to a stroke of miraculous luck in his youth.
And even if the chick possessed the perfect constitution for it...
Setting his wing bone is simple enough, and his physical wounds will heal. But ghost qi... Ghost qi is a different matter entirely.
If left unchecked, he would inevitably be consumed by the corruptive energy. He was a ticking time bomb. Once a beast fully degenerated into a ghost-beast, there was no turning back.
Hmm. Should I just kill him now?
A spark of lightning crackled at the tip of the weasel's claw before quietly fizzling out.
No, killing him now would be too hasty.
Doing so would only invite the deep resentment of his siblings. He decided against it.
For now, he would observe.
The weasel looked down at the wheezing, unconscious Jim-il with cold, indifferent eyes. Then, without hesitation, he grabbed the broken wing and forcibly snapped the bone back into place.
Crack! Snap!
A bloodcurdling shriek tore from Jim-il's throat, instantly jolting him from his deep slumber.
"Screeech!!!"
"Hold still!"
The weasel pinned the thrashing chick to the ground, continuing his brutal treatment. The sickening sounds of grinding bones and snapping joints echoed through the quiet hall.
The agony was so intense that Jim-il repeatedly screamed, blacked out, and jolted awake again. When his thrashing became too violent, the weasel unceremoniously cuffed him upside the head to keep him still.
"Whew..."
There had been several moments during the process where the weasel's patience wore thin enough that he nearly snapped the chick's neck out of sheer annoyance, but he managed to finish the emergency treatment. The rest would have to rely on the bird's natural recovery.
Now, only Dang Sobaek remained.
He was the one the weasel held the highest expectations for.
Their very first meeting had been extraordinary.
Even as a mere hatchling, he had not only possessed human-like intelligence but had also understood the Yo-language perfectly.
The way he manipulated his spiritual energy was entirely different from any beast cultivation technique the weasel had ever encountered.
And that final technique...
The technique Dang Sobaek had unleashed at the very end had sent a genuine shiver down the weasel's spine.
Hundreds of feathers had danced through the air as if possessed by individual spirits, blooming into a deadly, beautiful flower of steel.
It bore a passing resemblance to the spells wielded by the Harvesters. Yet, there was absolutely no way a wild Jimjo could have been tutored by those human cultivators.
He couldn't have possibly developed such a technique entirely on his own.
Even if he had stumbled upon some ancient legacy and learned the technique...
it did not change the fact that his execution of it was nothing short of miraculous.
It defied all of the weasel's common sense.
For a mere fledgling to control hundreds of feathers as if they were extensions of his own limbs? It should be impossible. Without near-infinite mental strength and absolute concentration, a bird who has barely lived a few years could never achieve such a feat.
Yet, he had witnessed it with his own eyes.
Furthermore, the sheer scale of the Divine Sense the chick had awakened was nearly on par with his own. The creature was a freak of nature.
He couldn't help but anticipate what kind of monstrous talent lay dormant within him. Perhaps he possessed a legendary spiritual root spoken of only in ancient myths.
If that were truly the case...
Well, there is only one way to find out.
Perhaps, just perhaps, he might finally achieve the goal he had harbored for centuries.
Unlike with the other two, the weasel channeled a far denser, more concentrated stream of spiritual energy into Dang Sobaek's body.
But the moment his energy crossed the threshold—
Rumble!
The dormant energy within Dang Sobaek's core suddenly surged, violently clashing with the weasel's invading spiritual energy in a fierce tug-of-war.
"What in the world?!"
It was utterly unprecedented.
And that wasn't all.
Sway.
Suddenly, the weasel's vision blurred, and the world split into double images.
The hallucinogenic powder Dang Sobaek had covertly dispersed right before the battle had finally begun to take effect.
Cold sweat beaded on the weasel's brow.
This... this terrifyingly meticulous little bastard.
He had never imagined the chick would lay such layered, fail-safe traps just to deal with him.
This was highly problematic.
A Jimjo's spiritual energy was inherently laced with lethal poison. If he abruptly withdrew his consciousness now, the backlash would drag that poison deep into his own meridians. In the worst-case scenario, he would suffer severe, irreversible internal injuries.
At this rate, it feels like I'm the one being tested. Unbelievable.
His head spun.
Gritting his teeth, the weasel marshaled his superhuman willpower to steady his mind and continued to carefully channel his energy.
He slowly pushed back Dang Sobaek's resisting energy, meticulously neutralizing the toxic vapors that clung to his own spiritual probe.
Trying to balance healing, neutralizing poison, and resisting hallucinations all at once drained his mental reserves at an alarming rate.
Time seemed to drag on agonizingly.
Under normal circumstances, a mere few minutes would have sufficed. But because the poison was so stubborn, nearly an hour had passed by the time he finally managed to safely withdraw his energy.
But...
There's... nothing?
The chick had no spiritual root.
Even for a common Jimjo chick, it was only natural to possess at least a low-grade, fragmented spiritual root.
That is impossible. I must have misdiagnosed him because of the hallucinations. Otherwise, this makes absolutely no sense. I will have to check again once my head clears.
Perhaps, like his brother who could withstand ghost qi, his constitution was so unique or mythically advanced that the weasel simply lacked the ability to perceive it.
After all, his own cultivation level was far too low to identify legendary constitutions like the Ice Soul Yin Killing Body or the Great Void Formless Root.
Yes, that had to be it.
It was far too early to jump to conclusions.
Given the chick's terrifyingly high comprehension, there was no way he was devoid of spiritual talent.
He would simply have to wait until the chick woke up to investigate further.
Dang Sobaek gasped, jolting awake as he sucked in a ragged breath. He had just dreamed that his core was being ripped from his chest while he was still alive.
He could barely move his limbs.
"Ugh..."
As he tried to shift his weight, a sharp groan escaped his beak. His insides were a complete wreck. The backlash of forcibly detonating his Dokyodan and drawing upon his spiritual energy far beyond his physical limits had left his meridians in tatters. The mere attempt to circulate his energy brought on a wave of agonizing pain.
Furthermore...
I was prepared for this, but...
His core was cracked. No matter how profound Sobaek's medical expertise was, a damaged core was not something that could be healed with simple acupuncture or herbs. His only hope was to find a rare spiritual elixir, or pray for a miracle from heaven.
Calm down. Think.
First, he needed to confirm if his siblings were safe.
As he slowly pried his eyes open—
"You! Are you finally awake?"
The smug face of the weasel filled his vision.
"...Are the others safe? And more importantly, why did you go to such lengths to teach us?"
"One question at a time. You've only just opened your eyes, yet you're already full of questions. Your siblings woke up long ago. You are the last."
A flicker of genuine admiration crossed the weasel's features.
And for good reason.
Of the three, only Dang Sobaek had immediately seen through his actions and demanded to know his true motives.
"And where do you get the nerve to speak so informally to your master? Have you never heard of the saying, 'He who teaches you even a single character is your master for life'?"
Dang Sobaek let out a quiet groan at the weasel's sharp rebuke.
It was an irrefutable truth.
No matter how brutal and coercive the method had been, they had ultimately received a profound grace, and through it, they had awakened their Yo-language. Had the weasel harbored genuine killing intent, none of them would be breathing right now.
"Well, whatever. It's not as if I expected a proper master-disciple relationship from an uneducated wild bird anyway. I was merely speaking aloud."
Dang Sobaek's expression turned incredibly dry. It was utterly absurd. Did this creature not realize that he, too, was a beast? As expected from their first meeting, this weasel was an absolute eccentric.
Still, it was a relief that he didn't have to force himself to use formal honorifics.
He would repay the debt of gratitude, but he had no intention of ever calling him 'Master.'
Of course, even a common peasant could teach a scholar a valuable lesson. Sobaek did not dispute that wisdom.
But for him, there could only ever be one true master in his life.
Ever since his master's passing in his previous life, Sobaek had never bowed to another. He had no intention of starting now.
Of course, if it was merely a superficial arrangement, he was willing to play along to a reasonable degree.
Sobaek quieted his thoughts for a moment, then looked directly into the weasel's eyes.
"What is your true motive? There is absolutely no reason for you to risk your own safety just to teach us the Yo-language."
"Pfft... Hahaha! Ahahaha!"
"..."
The weasel burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. His wild cackling echoed off the ancient temple walls before he finally managed to catch his breath.
"Ah... that was so incredibly amusing, I simply couldn't help myself."
The moment the words left his mouth, a sudden, violent gust of wind swept through the hall, and crackling arcs of blue lightning danced across his claws.
"Even if you carry the bloodline of the Jimjo... do you truly believe you could ever pose a threat to me?"
Indeed, the weasel bore not a single scratch. In stark contrast, Sobaek was still a broken mess, and his siblings were undoubtedly in no better condition.
Sobaek forced his aching body upright, standing tall as he stared back at the weasel with unyielding eyes. Then, he asked once more:
"So, what is it you want from us?"
"Nothing much. I merely require you to grant me a favor in the future. But before we speak of that... how much do you actually know about this island?"