Chapter 61 - Act 10. Silver Dragon Mine (2)

“As you can see, this is what happens. The laborers have an order and a world of their own. It’s best not to interfere needlessly.”

Even as Goe Tong explained, the violence among the laborers continued. Yise spoke, his voice infused with spiritual energy.

“Stop.”

The hands prying the laborer’s mouth open froze. The other laborers rushing over from all directions shrank back in unison, as though on cue.

“Stealing something a formal disciple gave him, right before my eyes? You’ve got some nerve.”

At those words, the laborers dropped to their knees together. They pressed their foreheads into the dirt and trembled, their movements so coordinated it was as if someone had ordered them to do it.

Yise looked down at them for a moment, then took all the remaining jerky from his storage pouch and tossed it out.

“Share it. Nicely.”

The laborers did not dare pick it up at once. They glanced at one another, then at Yise, remaining frozen for a long while before the man prostrate at the very front cautiously picked up a piece. Then he handed another piece to the person beside him. On to the next person. And the next.

They all chewed while watching Yise’s expression, taking care not to offend the Cultivator. Goe Tong smiled at the sight, looking rather pleased.

“The kindness of Cultivators who’ve just arrived is entertaining to watch in its own way.”

He clapped his hands, sending the laborers back to their quarters, then led Yise in another direction. As Yise followed, he voiced a question.

“He could’ve just eaten it as soon as he got it. Running away only to have it all stolen seems a bit stupid.”

“Haha. Do you think you’re the first Cultivator to pity the laborers? I’m sure he didn’t want to be slashed to pieces or have both hands cut off for daring to open his filthy mouth in front of a formal disciple.”

“...”

Yise’s gaze turned to the scar-covered bodies of the half-naked laborers. For a moment, he found himself rather concerned about the character of Daemudo’s disciples.

Even setting aside the quarters that were no better than livestock pens, the casual violence, and the excessive labor, one question remained unanswered.

“Why don’t you give them enough food? They need to eat properly to work.”

“... You’re rather unusual, Senior.”

Goe Tong tilted his head.

“Most newcomers see their wounds and ask why they’re subjected to such severe violence. Though once they learn what crimes these people committed, they lose interest.”

“Oh. That’s just how I am.”

Goe Tong looked as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

“Food is the most effective means of keeping them under control. If they want to survive, they have to meet their quotas. A simple rule.”

Yise found that hard to accept, but he did not argue.

The mine entrance had been carved into the side of a small hill. From the outside, it looked like an unremarkable cave, but with every step inside, it grew wider and deeper, stretching far underground.

Torches lined the damp, musty tunnel walls, and laborers swung pickaxes beneath their light.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

The sound of iron striking stone echoed without end. Every hand gripping a pickaxe was rough and withered, hard and cracked like a turtle’s shell rather than a human hand.

Here and there, Qi Refining Cultivators dozing against the walls beside the torches sensed Goe Tong’s presence and sprang to their feet.

“Senior!”

“Hey. Haven’t I told you not to sleep on duty?”

“... I was cultivating.”

“Cultivating, my ass. Say hello. This is our new supervisor.”

At Goe Tong’s brief introduction, the Cultivator bowed to Yise, then turned back to Goe Tong.

“Are you heading back, Senior?”

“No, I still have three months left.”

“Oh. Then we’re due back at the same time. How about a drink of spirit wine—wine infused with spiritual energy—when we return? My treat.”

“Sounds good. I’ll hold you to that.”

Goe Tong gestured toward the Cultivator and added quietly to Yise,

“He’s a spirit winemaker. Get along with him, and you’ll get to drink spirit wine now and then.”

“My name is Jangsaeng, Senior!”

Jangsaeng introduced himself enthusiastically.

Now that sounded like the name of someone who would be good at cultivation. After that idle thought, Yise followed Goe Tong onward.

After making a circuit all the way to the deepest part of the mine, they headed toward the mountaintop. At the summit, the view opened out in every direction, giving them a clear view of the entire mining site below. Goe Tong pointed to the opposite slope.

“The female laborers’ section is on the other side. There are two mines in all.”

Yise could faintly make out a defensive barrier formation enveloping the entire mountain.

“Oh, that’s a defensive formation that blocks anyone other than Daemudo disciples from passing through. They can neither enter nor leave.”

“What realm can it stop?”

“I hear it can stop even Foundation Establishment Cultivators.”

The barrier spread outward from Seok Gongju’s chamber. Presumably, the device sustaining the formation was there.

“Just patrol like this and make sure the laborers and those on mission duty aren’t up to anything. Conduct surprise searches of their belongings now and then, and root out anyone siphoning off spirit stones.”

Goe Tong added that such things hardly ever happened, then continued his explanation.

“If anyone crosses into the female laborers’ section, you may execute him on the spot. Check the output from time to time, and if it seems too low, give them a dressing-down. Senior Seok Gongju checks in occasionally.”

Goe Tong took a sheet of pine paper from inside his robes and handed it over.

“This is the patrol roster. You’ll need to draw up the next one yourself, Senior. The duty involves watching from the summit for anyone entering or escaping the barrier. Some Cultivators occasionally offer bribes to get out of it, but that’s the behavior Senior Seok Gongju despises most, so never accept them.”

Goe Tong chuckled and added a personal observation.

“When you get caned on the backside in front of the other Cultivators, the pain is the least of your problems. You won’t be able to hold your head up for a while.”

The advice was vivid enough to sound like personal experience.

“... I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yise accepted the paper and tucked it into his storage pouch.

Goe Tong tilted his head as though something had just occurred to him.

“Oh, if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”

Yise hesitated briefly before answering. It was the first time anyone had asked his age since he became a formal disciple.

“I’m seventeen this year.”

“What? ... Ahaha. Then you must have entered the main mountain this year.”

Goe Tong gave a laugh of disbelief.

“Seventh star at seventeen. Never mind that absurd cultivation speed—you really must know nothing but cultivation. You’re at a hot-blooded age, so be especially careful around the female laborers.”

“What exactly should I be careful about?”

“Hmm...”

Goe Tong pondered for a moment, seemingly choosing his words, then answered with a serious expression.

“Be especially wary of beautiful laborers who whisper love they don’t feel and urge you to run away with them, all to escape this hell.”

“...”

Yise concluded that there were more things to watch out for than he had expected.

As he fell silent in acknowledgment, an aged figure slowly climbed the slope toward the summit. It was a fourth-star Qi Refining Cultivator. His hair was half gray, and his back slightly stooped. His face bore the deep marks of time, giving him a distinctly different air from other Cultivators in the same realm.

“Dog Shit.”

“... Old Shin. I told you not to call me that.”

“All right, Dog Shit. Got any Longevity Pills to spare?”

“Do you think I would? Stop being such a greedy old man and pass on gracefully, will you?”

“Unless you’re paying for my funeral, keep your curses to yourself, you little Dog Shit.”

Goe Tong pressed a hand to his forehead.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I can’t even beat you up for fear you’ll die. If you were any other junior, I’d have broken every bone in your body. Do you understand?”

“Pick the meat off my bones or boil them. Do whatever the hell you please.”

Old Shin cackled once and walked straight past them without so much as a glance at Yise. He showed utter disregard for the hierarchy among Cultivators. Yise watched his retreating back for a moment.

“His realm is low for his age, so Foundation Establishment is a distant dream. He’s not long for this world, so he doesn’t give a damn about anything. Just let him be.”

Goe Tong waved a hand as he explained.

Yise did not argue, but something struck him as odd. For someone about to die, the man’s eyes seemed strangely full of attachment to life—far too much of it.

* * *

Life at Silver Dragon Mine was tolerable enough. In truth, it felt less like a mission than a change of cultivation venue. Nothing much happened, and Yise could devote most of his time to cultivation.

The occasional incidents amounted to little more than quarrels among the mine laborers, and he meted out suitable punishment each time. At first, he tried to determine who was right and who was wrong, but after a few days, he concluded that the most efficient solution was to cane both sides and be done with it.

After Yise became supervisor, Jangsaeng brought him spirit wine nearly every three days. At first, he thought it was simply a drink shared as a friendly gesture between Cultivators. Then, at some point, the visits abruptly stopped. Around that time, he learned by chance that the wine had not been a gesture of friendship, but a bribe to excuse Jangsaeng from watch duty.

‘... What a shame.’

Though not as effective as the immortal cuisine Yise made himself, drinking spirit wine did slightly accelerate his cultivation. Resolving to try brewing some alongside his immortal cuisine once he returned to the main mountain, he devoted himself to cultivation again.

Perhaps because spirit stones lay buried there, Silver Dragon Mine was rich in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. It fell short of the main mountain’s cultivation district, but the energy was denser than at his quarters in the Clear Repose Halls.

During patrols, and even in the brief breaks when he could settle down and sit cross-legged, Yise steadily replenished his spiritual energy and continued the process of Purging Impurity, Purifying Spirit. Little by little, he took another step toward the eighth star.

Then, exactly thirty days after he set foot in Silver Dragon Mine, an incident occurred while he was deep into his dawn cultivation.

“Senior.”

An urgent voice reached him. A Qi Refining Cultivator on night duty was running up the slope with a torch in hand.

“I think you need to come outside for a moment.”