Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

The Lower Heavens innately divide cultivators into two groups.

One group consists of those who clawed their way up from the mud of the lower world, coughing blood as they pierced the heavens through their own effort.

They pass through the Ascension Platform and ride the light of ascension upward, but the moment they arrive, their treatment is that of savages.

Savages who know nothing of the laws of the Lower Heavens.

That is why they are labeled as “rootless wretches.”

The other group consists of the direct blood descendants of those ascenders who reached high realms.

From birth, they swallow spirit-infused placentas, and while growing up in the arms of high-level fathers and mothers, they eat and drink spirit stones and spirit pills.

They are called the orthodox line.

They are cherished and elevated, like porcelain polished from precious jade.

Both groups share the same name—cultivators—but one side consists of scarred victors who climbed a thousand-zhang cliff barefoot, while the other consists of nobles born atop silk already laid out at the summit of that cliff.

That was why the sects and factions of the Nine Heavens spoke of fairness on the surface, yet always scrutinized one’s origins.

Those who had crawled up from the lower world knew this well, and so they cultivated silently, harboring the thought that one day they would trample those who had once looked down on them.

Until the color of their Dao power grew thicker than the blood of those nobles, and placed them beneath their feet.

And Hyeok Hyeoreum belonged squarely to that first group—the kind that crawled up from the very bottom.

Among those captured now, everyone else had inherited a cultivator bloodline.

Of course, it wasn’t anything remarkable.

If it were, they would not have thrown themselves at Hyeok Hyeoreum’s camp.

Those guys were the byproducts of dual cultivation—things like that.

Even so, people like them were still lucky, well-fed beneficiaries born in the Nine Heavens to favorable parents.

But Hyeok Hyeoreum was different.

He had begun as the lowest, most insignificant Daoist in a world where Dao arts existed.

Only when he was at death’s door did he barely achieve Bone Reforging and Reversal to Youth. At ninety-nine years old, he had finally crossed the threshold of ascension.

A cultivator who ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) had crawled upward one step at a time through blood and tears.

The process had been so brutal it was unbearable to witness.

The world he had been born into was one where Dao power itself was barren, and to gather enough Dao power for Bone Reforging and Reversal to Youth, he had committed every imaginable atrocity.

In the cultivation world, when a person dies, the spiritual power, Dao power, and divine power they gathered over a lifetime do not simply dissipate meaninglessly.

Soul-Scattering Dissolution.

In the lower world, the soul flies away and the corporeal essence scatters—that is the law of the world—but this place exists outside that law.

In the lower world, the soul ascends while the corporeal essence that remains in the flesh disperses. But in the cultivation world, which stands apart from that law, the power accumulated during life instead condenses firmly or remains entirely within the corpse.

Hence, killing people and refining their energy into spirit stones or condensing it into spirit pills is commonplace here.

This is not a world with thin energy density like the lower realm.

That was why he had resorted to forbidden techniques to gather energy.

Extracting living vitality directly from living people—acts too revolting to even voice aloud.

For that crime, bounty notices had been posted across all directions under Heaven and Earth, and in order to survive, he had been hunted relentlessly, enduring countless hardships in an aged and weakening body.

He had crawled all the way up here coughing blood.

He could not die so futilely now.

‘N-no... I can’t die like this!’

His eyes clenched shut, Hyeok Hyeoreum—whose mind had gone blank—opened them again as he begged desperately to live.

Behind the gloomy woman approaching him, he saw another woman.

A woman with striking violet hair.

“P-please, s-save me—”

She was likely the woman who had said she would turn him into a spirit pill. As he pleaded for his life, he habitually examined her realm—

And his vision went black.

“Hu—uugh!”

A gasp burst from him at the same time.

Everything before his eyes was pitch-black.

A darkness deeper than night, deeper than the abyss of space itself.

As if the space itself had vanished into blackness.

Hyeok Hyeoreum possessed a unique ability that allowed him to discern others’ realms and the value of their law treasures.

It manifested as color.

The darker it was, the stronger it meant.

Then what, exactly, did this blackness signify?

To climb from the Lower Heavens to the Middle Heavens, one must reach the Deification Stage.

Only after surpassing the Nascent Soul Stage and entering Deification would the gate to the Middle Heavens open.

Hyeok Hyeoreum had witnessed a Deification-stage cultivator ascend once—only once, and even then from afar.

But even that had not carried this depth—

Not this ebony darkness, as though even black itself were being swallowed.

His teeth chattered as he barely managed to speak.

“H-how could s-such a h-high Immortal d-descend to th-this filthy N-Nine Heavens...”

That woman was undoubtedly a being from the Upper Heavens he had never encountered in his entire life.

An Immortal—or perhaps even something beyond.

As Hyeok Hyeoreum trembled at that realization, the newly arrived woman looked surprised.

“Oh? There was someone in the Nine Heavens who could read my realm?”

To think it might actually be true.

While he stood frozen under the pressure, the woman asked again,

“Quite a respectable trick. You want to live?”

With a vacant expression, Hyeok Hyeoreum replied,

“I s-submit.”

Submitting did not mean begging to live.

It meant please consume me—that sort of sentiment.

Begging an existence like that for mercy was meaningless.

Did humans consider ants to be equal forms of life?

To her eyes, that was what Hyeok Hyeoreum must look like.

***

After running for quite some time, I called Cho.

Zihwa hadn’t explained things in detail, but from my past life—no, my life before that now, I guess—

Anyway, modern knowledge considered Dao arts to be truly limitless.

Abilities that could turn imagination into reality.

Well, in fictional works at least.

So I figured those who had mastered Dao arts or techniques here probably had tracking arts as well, which was why I called Cho.

I wanted to flee by flying, since stepping on the ground seemed like it would leave traces.

“Cho, let’s fly as far away as we can together.”

- Tsrrr. 『Okay, Dad.』

We flew for a long while and then slipped into the mountains far in the distance.

Inside, we found an abandoned cave dwelling.

It looked like it had once been someone’s home, but the owner had long since abandoned it, and any traces of habitation had vanished.

“Cho, let’s rest here.”

- Tsrrr. 『I’ll block the entrance.』

“Thanks. You’re not tired, are you?”

- Tsrt. 『No, I’m fine. I actually feel more energetic.』

Since Cho was guarding the entrance, I decided to enter Dokmul-hyang right away.

I was curious how the interrogation of the captured ones was going, since that was what they said they were doing.

From my perspective, I really didn’t want my wives to stain their hands with blood if it could be helped.

They were martial artists who could cut down bandits without hesitation, but to me they were delicate wives I wanted to protect.

I closed my eyes and focused, and immediately entered my mind space.

I had assumed the captured ones would have been dragged to the center of the village, but instead they were kneeling right at the entrance.

One sat blank-faced, while the others had their acupoints sealed and could only move their mouths.

In front of them, Zihwa was explaining something to my wives.

“Now that you’ve ascended to the Heavenly Realm, you must change how you think. This is not the lower world you lived in, and you are no longer human.

Strictly speaking, to cultivate toward becoming Immortals, you are no different from beasts or insects undergoing cultivation.

So when you capture the weak, it is natural to eat them.”

I should have explained this back in the lower world, but I hadn’t—because it was obvious my wives wouldn’t understand it there.

She was likely explaining the practice of refining the defeated into spirit stones or spirit pills.

According to Zihwa, since the Heavenly Realm exists outside the laws of the world, even when a person dies, the energy they accumulated and the vitality of their life do not dissipate.

The lower world follows the principle every Dao practitioner learns—that at death, the soul ascends and the corporeal essence scatters—but this principle does not apply here. Killing someone leaves their energy completely intact.

As a result, although one can grow by cultivating internal circulation and absorbing natural energy, many choose instead the quicker, simpler method of consuming spirit pills or spirit stones made directly from gathered energy.

That seemed to be what she was explaining, since we had captured prisoners.

“Is there no other way?”

Hwa-eun asked, clearly reluctant.

Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled either.

Energy derived from the soul was, at least, energy the person themselves had accumulated in life, so consuming only that stirred less resistance in me.

But the problem was spirit pills extracted from the corporeal essence.

Corporeal essence forms the human body.

And it contains vitality.

So grinding people down meant refining spirit pills from corporeal essence—and that made even me uncomfortable.

To be fair, Sister Jeokwol had already consumed pills made from corporeal essence.

Blood stones also contained the vitality of Blood Demons, so she had effectively consumed that as well.

So I didn’t want to add any bias against her or the children if they ate such things.

They were predators by nature.

Growing by devouring the weak was normal for them.

And if this world truly was one where you either became strong or got eaten, then for the sake of protecting my family, I would eat too.

It was just... difficult, for now.

At Hwa-eun’s question, Zihwa nodded and explained.

“Of course there is. The same method you’ve used until now—cultivating through what you call internal manuals.

This place has a high density of natural spiritual energy, so your realms will advance much faster. It will be slower than consuming spirit stones or pills, but still.”

The wives looked relieved—

And then Zihwa added one more thing with a gentle smile.

“But if you truly dislike that, we have an even better method.”

“There’s a better method?”

“Of course. Spirit stones and spirit pills may be hard to obtain at times, so this might even be the best option.”

“What exactly is that method?”

“What is it?”

“What is it?”

I was interested too when I heard it was better.

Zihwa glanced in my direction—apparently aware I was listening—and added,

“Dual cultivation.”

I knew what dual cultivation was.

I’d heard that some Dao sects practiced dual cultivation, where a man and woman trained together.

Since Daoist philosophy revolves around yin and yang, it was said their energies enhanced cultivation efficiency—but I’d also heard it was basically an R-rated cultivation method.

I’d always thought that was just Daoists scamming people because they wanted to have sex.

And judging by the reactions, I wasn’t the only one who thought that.

“T-that’s just nonsense from some third-rate Dao sect, isn’t it?”

“That’s how I learned it too.”

“Isn’t that just a scam?”

The wives all looked incredulous.

Zihwa jumped in outrage.

“What nonsense! Forming Dao bonds and cultivating together is an extremely efficient cultivation method in the cultivation world.

If the compatibility is good, the effect can be dozens or even hundreds of times greater.”

“T-that much?”

“Is it different from what we know? What exactly is it?”

As Zihwa explained calmly, I listened.

“First, the man and woman remove their clothes, overlap their bodies, and then slowly—”

By the time the explanation ended, the wives’ faces were bright red.

And I reached a conclusion.

‘Isn’t that just sex?’

In this cultivation world, dual cultivation was clearly just a refined way of saying sex.

Efficiency improves when both parties are maximally aroused, and from the explanation—

It was just sex.

These Immortals put on refined airs in public but were obviously depraved behind the scenes.

‘Why can’t they just call sex, sex?’