Chapter 38 - Act 6. Heavenly-Demonic Dual-Meridian Constitution (1)

After receiving only basic first aid at the Daemudo outpost, the four ignored the outer affiliate's attempts to dissuade them and returned straight to the training compound. The sun was sinking by the time they reached the administrative office. U Jeol was about to close its doors when he spotted them approaching.

"How dare you interfere with a senior Cultivator's quitting time?"

"... Our apologies. If this is inconvenient, we can return tomorrow morning."

U Jeol surveyed the four of them. Their clothes were torn to rags, and they were filthy, as though they had rolled through mud. Yise had even left an arm somewhere; his empty left sleeve fluttered in the air. The bundle wrapped in clean cloth was probably part of a Daemudo novice disciple's remains.

Had they rested a day at the outpost, they could have returned looking more presentable. Instead, they had deliberately hurried back. Was it because they wanted to hold their fellow disciple's funeral as soon as possible? What a stubbornly earnest bunch.

Camaraderie was a luxury for Cultivators. Cultivation was a struggle with oneself. Fellow disciples were merely rivals competing for resources. Yet this year's novices were exceptionally close-knit. U Jeol was beginning to wonder whether the whole lot had taken some bad elixir pills.

It was probably because of this one. His gaze settled on Yise—the top novice disciple who somehow inspired others to follow him. Whether he realized it or not, people constantly gathered around him, and their opinion of him was sky-high.

"Come in. Next time, take your time instead of rushing. You call yourselves Daoists of Daemudo, yet you have no dignity."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

Yise thanked the senior Cultivator for his consideration on everyone's behalf. U Jeol slowly read through the mission report Yise handed him. His brow creased more deeply with every line.

Encounter with a Foundation Establishment demonic practitioner. Two lightning strikes sustained. Novice disciple's left arm lost. Cultivator Gwak Chan intervened during retreat and engaged the enemy.

"You're lucky you made it back alive."

It was a brief remark. Yet the moment the four heard it, the tension finally drained from them, and they nearly sank to the floor.

"I'd like to pay your reward immediately, but this is serious enough that I should report it to the main mountain."

"Yes, sir."

U Jeol immediately wrote a message talisman and sent it flying to the main mountain. When a reply arrived shortly afterward, he nodded.

"Your contribution to a Foundation Establishment Cultivator's mission has been recognized, so your reward has been increased. Sixty spirit stones and one hundred contribution points in total. An unprecedented sum for a novice disciple mission. You'll be taking the Dreadflesh Raptor's corpse, I assume?"

"Yes, sir."

The boy always took demonic beast corpses to make immortal cuisine. U Jeol tore out the page depicting the Dreadflesh Raptor from the Demon-Sealing Album, and its corpse appeared on one side of the office.

Yise tossed the corpse outside, then asked as he wiped the bloodstained floor, "Do you happen to know what became of Senior Gwak Chan?"

"No. I'll tell you when I hear."

"Thank you."

"Decide how you'll divide the reward."

Sixty spirit stones and one hundred contribution points. It would have been a sizable reward for one person, but there were four of them. Fifteen spirit stones and twenty-five contribution points each—an amount they could earn from three or four Level Seven missions.

"It divides evenly, so let's split it four ways."

"Wait. I absorbed spiritual energy when I exorcised the Dreadflesh Raptor. You should deduct that from my share."

Hong Wonseo immediately objected to Yise's suggestion, but he shook his head.

"Forget it. If we're counting everything, we'd all be dead without your defensive ritual implement. This is fair enough. I'll cook the Dreadflesh Raptor and divide it into suitable portions for everyone."

Yise looked at the other two, and both agreed without objection.

"Then I won't refuse."

Yise chuckled softly as Hong Wonseo swiftly claimed her share. She really was an odd one.

"Go to the Medicine Hall. Missing limbs are best treated promptly."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for everything."

After bowing silently, Yise headed to the Medicine Hall alone. It was a wooden building at the western edge of the training compound. The bitter scent of spiritual herbs wafted from the entire building, stinging his nose.

A Medicine Hall Cultivator who appeared to be in late-stage Qi Refining studied Yise's arm for a long while, then held out an elixir pill in a wooden box.

"One hundred spirit stones."

"Pardon?"

Yise reflexively asked again, wondering if he had misheard.

"Don't make me repeat myself. The pill costs one hundred spirit stones."

"So I have to pay..."

"Obviously. Do you think elixir pills grow in the dirt? I'm only giving you this price because you're an injured disciple of ours. You won't find a Regeneration Pill this cheap anywhere else."

However precious elixir pills might be, they were charging a disciple of their own sect who had lost an arm on a mission. One hundred spirit stones could buy a fine ritual implement with real value in combat.

"If you don't like it, find a great Core Formation Cultivator and ask them to cast a regeneration spell for you. Are you taking it or not? Make up your mind."

The expense pained him enough to consider visiting Gwisu Temple and asking his master to regenerate his missing arm instead.

"... Could I buy it on credit?"

The Cultivator stared at him as if he were out of his mind, but Yise had no choice. Most of the spirit stones he had worked so hard to save had gone toward single-use ritual implements and ingredients for immortal cuisine.

"I only have seventy-two spirit stones at the moment."

"I'll put the debt on your account at the administrative office. Pay it off within a month."

"Yes, sir."

What an utterly heartless sect. His revered, generous Master Mongryeon had given her disciple medicinal pills without asking for anything in return. Yise suddenly missed the warmth of Gwisu Temple.

* * *

Yise went straight to the training room. Inside the wooden box sat an amber pill the size of his thumb. It might be intended to regenerate his body, but it had cost a full hundred spirit stones. Surely it would help his cultivation too.

Recalling the instructions for taking elixir pills, he tipped the round lump into his mouth. Tasting like cow dung, the spiritual elixir slipped down his throat, and searing heat immediately spread from his esophagus into his spiritual meridians. An almost unbelievable amount of spiritual energy for a fingernail-sized pill surged through his body.

The new energy circulated through him before gathering at his left elbow, bringing pain as though he were being seared by fire. Bone grew, tendons knitted together, and flesh filled out.

Regrowing the arm hurt even more than losing it had. His vision went white, and cold sweat ran down his back. Only when he finally saw five fingers twitching in the air did Yise wipe away the sweat and exhale.

The spiritual energy left over after restoring his body began flowing through his spiritual meridians. Yise held it within him, keeping it from escaping, and absorbed it. Little by little, he carefully blended the two spiritual energies so they would not run wild.

Once the entire process was complete, Yise rose with a satisfied expression, as though he had eaten his fill.

'Elixir pills really are good...'

To absorb so much spiritual energy from a single pill. Could Daemudo be wrong and the Pill Refining Sect right? A subversive thought welled up in him.

* * *

Yeom Bo's funeral was held quietly. Only his recovered head lay on the altar, wrapped in white cloth. Seol Ryeong personally performed the consolation rite. With only the novices at the training compound and a few Foundation Establishment seniors in attendance, it was a brief, simple affair.

Following the customs of their hometown, Pi Garam cremated the remains and delivered the ashes to the bereaved family. He said he would send them back to their home soil if the opportunity arose.

Yise paid his brief respects, then turned away. He would face this countless times in the future. Recovering the body as they had this time was actually a stroke of luck.

They had lived alongside one another, but it would have been a stretch to call them close. Attending the funeral of such a fellow disciple left him with something closer to a sense of responsibility than grief. He wasn't entirely pleased to be treated as the novices' representative, but it suddenly occurred to him that he wanted to look after them when he could, within his means.

'No.'

Who was he to look after anyone when he couldn't even overcome the wall right in front of him?

'I should take care of myself first.'

Yise decided to focus on his cultivation.

A few days later, Yise managed to settle his troublesome debt. The compensation for the demonic cultivation manuals he had previously handed over to the main mountain and the grotto-heaven he had reported was finally determined.

Eighty spirit stones.

He couldn't tell whether the valuation was generous or a rip-off. What mattered was that his empty safe would be filled again. His eyes sparkled only briefly. The twenty-eight stones he owed were automatically deducted, leaving him with fifty-two.

In a display of sheer nastiness, U Jeol deliberately handed him all eighty spirit stones before taking twenty-eight back.

"What a diligent debtor."

U Jeol made the joke, but Yise couldn't laugh.

When he stepped outside the administrative office, Park Gangseo was walking toward him. How the man always managed to find him with such uncanny accuracy was a mystery.

"Hey, fellow Daoist Yise! I heard the news. You had quite an ordeal, didn't you?"

"Have you been well?"

"Oh, I've been fine. How's your cultivation progressing?"

"Unfortunately, it's stalled. I just can't break through the minor threshold."

"I don't know if I should call that a relief, but you do have a human side after all..."

Relief crossed Park Gangseo's face. Then, apparently disgusted with himself for feeling reassured, he let out a self-mocking sigh.

"It's not as though I'm praying you won't advance. It's just that calling a novice disciple 'Senior' would really make me feel pathetic. I suppose I need time to prepare myself..."

"I don't particularly care about forms of address. Honestly, I find it a little strange that a junior becomes a senior just because they've advanced, or that you have to speak formally to a friend."

Park Gangseo had briefly explained it before, but Yise still found it difficult to understand. Respect for one's realm. That alone wasn't enough to make the custom easy to accept.

"Hmm. A very long time ago, before the cultivation world had an established system, your realm generally rose in proportion to the years you put into it."

Park Gangseo explained as they walked. Yise's eyes brightened. He always enjoyed hearing about things beyond his knowledge.

"In other words, a Cultivator with a high realm was practically guaranteed to have lived a long life. People in the mundane world show respect to their elders, don't they? It began as respect for everything a person had accumulated—their years, experience, and realm. As cultivation methods grew more varied, talented Cultivators began defying that rule of time. So, slowly and naturally, the custom became one of respect for realm alone. That's how culture works."

"I see. That makes sense."

"Still, people who've known each other a long time sometimes remain informal. It's usually an etiquette you have to observe more strictly with people you aren't close to, or with strangers."

"In that case, you're welcome to keep addressing me informally."

"You sweet boy. That means you think we're fairly close, doesn't it?"

"I'm always grateful for your help."

"Hahaha! Good. Now, what useful news can I offer you today? Oh, you'll want to hear this. Cultivator Gwak Chan was rather badly injured. And the demonic practitioner got away."

At those last words, Yise's expression hardened.