Chapter 214: 278. Homunculus

All the pieces were beginning to fit together. Ja Yun proved to be an excellent teacher, and her explanations were easy to follow. Dae’s technique was exactly what Yoshika needed—it took a certain set of thoughts or ideas, imprinted them onto a packet of mana, and then isolated that packet away from the rest of one’s aura.

The trick was that with careful meditation, a practitioner could isolate ideas much more thoroughly, without catching connected concepts in the crossfire. Insufficient mastery of the technique would result in more severe side effects as unexpected thoughts were sealed away, or the mind repeatedly tried to access the sealed thoughts.

Yoshika learned quickly, and after a few trials she was ready to start modifying it to suit her needs. Ja Yun grumbled aloud to herself as Yoshika mediated.

“I cannot believe you’ve already figured it out enough to make changes. That technique has been giving me trouble for years and you just swoop in and master it in an hour. You’ve gotta stop doing that to me.”

Yoshika chuckled wryly.

“In fairness, we don’t think we’ve really ‘mastered’ it, per se. But we’re in a hurry, so we’re making the best of what we’ve got. Also, we experienced it first hand when our minds were connected to you, Eunae, and Muddy.”

“Oh...right.”

Left unsaid was the fact that Yoshika actually found the technique fairly simple—enough that she could keep up the conversation without losing focus on what she was doing. Having two brains did have its perks.

She meditated on her fake identities. Jing Yi was a bit too close to Eui’s real name and face to use for this, but Li Meili was suitably disconnected from anything that could currently be used to identify Yoshika. She concentrated on that identity, following the links associated with it—her hair and eye color, her posture, the way she styled her hair, her fake background as a country hick from a sect town, everything that made her Li Meili.

It was the opposite of how the technique was supposed to be used. Instead of isolating a single concept, she was reaching far and wide—intentionally bundling in every concept linked with the idea that she could find. Her meeting with Luo Huang and Wu Yuan went in, as did her desire to find Mingyu—not only to help her sister, but to reunite the brusque but kindly doctor with his estranged son.

To top everything off, she made a vow.

I swear that until my mission is complete, I will not rest or stray. I will find the alchemist Luo Mingyu or confirm that he is no longer within the sect. Once my mission is complete or failed, I will try to return and release myself from this vow.

It was short, simple, and accountable only to herself. That vow joined the rest of the thoughts within her seal.

The technique made Yoshika feel strange with so many thoughts packed away into it. She didn’t forget them—they still existed within her mind—it was more like her mind just slid away from them whenever she tried to think about it. The first part was finished.

Ja Yun’s low whistle nearly broke Yoshika’s concentration—she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“Wow, that was a big chunk of mana you just sliced off. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’m more worried about the next part, actually. At least this much is easily reversible.”

“Oh, you’re not done? There’s more?”

Yoshika nodded.

“I’m going to do the same thing to my soul, next.”

“Wait—!”

Ignoring Ja Yun’s protests, Yoshika dug into the core within her dantian. Unfortunately, what she was doing wouldn’t work without eating into her foundational essence—something she’d been doing a bit too often, lately. Never mind delaying her xiantian breakthrough—even reaching it was getting farther away with every piece of herself she burned away for temporary power.

With a pained grimace, she broke the carefully refined qi down into a more basic form, from the solid essence of her core, to a more fluid state, then finally to the loose essence of a first stage cultivator who’d only just discovered her dantian.

Yoshika took that essence and wrapped it around the mental compartment in a very rough approximation of the connection between mind and soul. The actual connections weren’t necessary yet—what she’d created so far was only a reference.

She let out a heavy breath and wiped the sweat from her brows.

“Phew. Now all we need is a body.”

While Ja Yun dumbly blinked at her in incomprehension, Yoshika considered the body she’d been in the process of crafting. Unfortunately, most of that effort would go to waste knowing what she did now, but some of it was salvageable. She thought back to her discussion with Jianmo and frowned.

“Where are we going to get a corpse?”

Ja Yun choked and sputtered.

“Wh—no, stop—what?! Yoshika, slow down! What the heck are you talking about?!”

“It doesn’t have to be a human corpse—in fact, we’d prefer if it wasn’t. Our avatar needs organic material or it will be too obvious that it’s a construct.”

Ja Yun stared at her for a long moment.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“What?! No, it’s true. Even the mortal doctor was able to figure out that Jung was a half-spirit from her blood.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Yoshika. Why a corpse, why not just use a log or something?”

Yoshika scoffed.

“Ja Yun, don’t you think a living wooden doll is a little conspicuous? We need flesh.”

For some reason Ja Yun slapped her forehead and groaned.

“Oh ancestors, I keep forgetting that you never attended a real college of magic. You’re so smart that it makes the gaps in your education really glaring.”

“We don’t understand.”

“Right, sorry. I’ll keep things really brief—uh, people are made of wood, sort of. Well, no, not really—they’re actually mostly water, and it’s more like wood is just made of the same kind of thing as flesh, but configured differently.”

Yoshika grimaced.

“You’re not making any sense.”

Ja Yun shook her head.

“Let me put it this way—the reason Qin’s old traditions have lasted so long is because even though it’s wildly inaccurate as an elemental theory, it actually maps pretty well to the way the body works. We’re made of Water, Wood, Earth, and a tiny bit of Metal.”

“What about Fire?”

“Uh...I guess that’s what keeps it all moving? Look, I’m not an expert, I’m just trying to express it in a way that makes sense. If all that matters is the raw materials, and assuming you can smooth over a lot of problems with essence—you can get pretty much everything you need from the air and the ground, plus a bit of wood.”

Yoshika narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“Are you sure about all that?”

Ja Yun let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes! The elemental composition of the human body is a first year topic! It’s massively important for figuring out how elemental magic will interact with living targets.”

“If you say so. Worth a try, at least.”

 

---

 

To her credit, Ja Yun was correct. Once Yoshika broke it all down into its constituent parts and began entwining the organic matter with essence, she really did find most of what she needed in the air and the ground. A fallen tree procured by Rika filled in for the rest, and the remaining traces were too small to matter once her qi filled in the gaps.

Yoshika found the process to be surprisingly intuitive. She’d already recreated Eui’s body and Jia’s meridians each from nothing on different occasions, and the process of crafting the base of her avatar was very similar. There was also some instinct from deep within her spirit ancestry that found the entire process natural and right in a way that was hard to describe.

All of this effort just to create the base—a sort of mold from which the real avatar would be crafted. It felt like overkill, but she’d gone too far to back out now. Besides, she’d learned a huge amount over the last few days, and she considered the investment to be well worth it even if she never ended up using the technique—a prospect that was growing more likely by the moment.

“Lee, An, our rest is over. It’s time to get moving again.”

Ienaga Yumi delivered the words that Yoshika had been dreading dispassionately, but her expression betrayed her sympathy. It was the final day, and without another chance to stop, Yoshika would not get a chance to finish her technique. It was now or never.

“We need more time, Master. It’s almost finished, but we’re not ready yet.”

Her mentor sighed and shook her head.

“No, girls. I warned you that you wouldn’t appreciate it when I enforced the time limit, but I have to insist. I haven’t sensed a xiantian aura yet, but the town isn’t far now and if you’re not prepared then we’re going to have to give up and return to our original course.”

“Just one more day, please. Maybe two...”

Yoshika cringed internally. That was a very conservative guess, especially since she hadn’t even figured out a source for the divine essence she needed. Master Ienaga mercilessly called her bluff.

“I’m sorry. You’ll just have to—”

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“Oh, ancestors, don’t be so stuffy, Ienaga.”

A voice of support came from the last place Yoshika ever would have expected. Ienaga turned to regard the interloper critically.

“Seong Misun, Your Highness. I would have thought you’d be particularly eager to return to the primary objective.”

Misun scoffed.

“Oh please—our destination is still months away at the pace we’ve set. What’s another few days? They are obviously on to something, and it would be tragic to let their efforts go to waste. I say we give them their chance.”

Ienaga crossed her arms and frowned.

“You are aware that every moment we spend in hostile territory puts us at risk. We can’t stay in one place for too long, especially this close to a sect.”

“It’s fine, they’re just some minor nobodies lording it up on some overblown hill.”

“If you insist, I won’t argue any further, but why the change of heart?”

Seong Misun sighed.

“What change of heart? I still think this entire mission is a farce, and it’s an insult that I’ve been forced to take part in it. Frankly, I just find whatever the hell those girls are up to far more interesting than anything else going on, and I’d like to make the most of it.”

“Very well. We’ll camp here for two more days—not a second more, and we still leave at the first sign of a xiantian aura.”

Yoshika sighed in relief—still shocked that Misun, of all people, had interceded on her behalf.

“Um, while you’re here—there was one other thing.”

Master Ienaga pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at Yoshika—she wasn’t pleased to have been undermined.

“Oh?”

Yoshika hesitated at the thought of revealing one of her secrets, but she trusted Ienaga and Misun already knew.

“We need a little bit of divine essence to complete the technique, but we can’t make our own and the few sources we have are either tapped out or too valuable.”

Jianmo’s avatar, the greater Heian’s flower bush, and the awakening stone would all potentially work, but none would survive the process and Yoshika had good reasons to keep each of them intact. Master Ienaga frowned.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re already experimenting with sacred arts—you two have always had a habit of jumping into things well in advance of when it would be appropriate. Unfortunately, I can’t help you—my own supply of divine essence is scant enough as it is.”

Seong Misun chuckled.

“I’ll say—it’s amazing you’re considered a xiantian cultivator at all. If your deeds didn’t speak for themselves I’d have doubted it.”

She ignored the glare that comment earned her and turned to look over Yoshika with an appraising expression.

“Sacred arts, is it? I suppose it stands to reason—how else would you undermine the senses of a xiantian cultivator? I’m curious enough to provide the essence, but on one condition—I want to observe the technique.”

Yoshika frowned. She’d seen that look before—Magus Hwang Sung had the same expression when he’d asked to study her unified cultivation method, and Do Hye had been similarly intrigued by their merged foundations. There was no doubt in Yoshika’s mind that ‘observation’ wouldn’t be something as mundane as watching.

“Fine, but we want to see any formations you draw with a full explanation of each one’s purpose.”

The princess smirked.

“I see you’ve been through this before—I expected nothing less of Hwang Sung and The Snake. Very well—though they’ll just be diagnostic formations you’ve no-doubt seen before.”

“Then we agree. Can we start right away? Time is of the essence.”

 

—-

 

Yoshika stood on either side of a stone platform on which several ritual circles had been drawn. Seong Misun had been a little irritated to learn that Yoshika would not be standing within them as she cast her sacred art, but quickly became intrigued when Yoshika brought out the artificial body.

“What is that? Did you make a life-sized doll of yourself?”

While Seong Misun had been busy setting up the formation circle, Yoshika had taken the opportunity to finish the artificial body, now containing the artificial mind and soul she’d already prepared. She’d dressed it in a spare robe from her ring.

“Not quite, no. This isn’t going to be our avatar—it’s just a template. The ritual will consume it to create the real thing.”

Misun hummed thoughtfully as Yoshika placed it in the center of the formation, and wasted no time activating her spell circles to analyze it.

“Interesting...it’s very close to being human, despite obviously being artificial. It’s even got its own aura—how did you manage that?”

“We sectioned off a piece of our mind and soul and put it inside the ‘doll.’ It’s an artificial dantian—the aura you’re sensing is actually ours, but it's temporarily cut off from the rest of us.”

“And that lets you animate it?”

Yoshika shook her heads.

“No, it’s just—you’ll see. We’re going to need that divine essence now.”

“You know, this was the part I was most excited to observe, and I can’t help but notice you’re outside of my circles.”

“We agreed to let you observe our avatar technique, not our entire cultivation method. You’ll have to make do with your regular senses for that.”

“Tsk, cheeky little brats...”

Despite her complaints, Seong Misun was true to her word. Her eyes glowed bright blue as she coalesced a piece of her aura into a mote of divinity that shined blindingly bright to Yoshika’s senses.

“Once I release my hold on this, it will destabilize very quickly—I hope you’re ready to do whatever it is you need to do.”

Yoshika nodded, tentatively reaching out with her divine spark.

“Ready.”

Just to be sure, Yoshika used Absolute Awareness to speed up her perception as much as possible, watching carefully as Misun’s domain receded, leaving the divine essence behind. Almost immediately, it began to rapidly decay into regular mana—a process that would have been explosive if not for Yoshika’s increased perception.

Even under Absolute Awareness, the decay was very fast, and by the time Yoshika took control of it with her own divine spark, nearly a third of it was lost. Luckily, there was still more than enough for her purposes.

Yoshika closed her eyes and meditated. She carefully molded the divine essence into the framework of what would become her avatar’s soul. It was a slow and meticulous process with no room for error. In the worst case, failure could result in backlash and deviation—and Yoshika didn’t like her chances of handling a deviation of divine essence.

Once the ritual began, Yoshika was unable to focus her attention on anything else. Interrupting the process would destroy all of her effort, and she couldn’t spare any thought for how long it was taking. Eventually, the framework was finished, ready to grow into an entire living being.

Yoshika ignored her worries about the implications of what she was doing. She’d thought about it enough already and made her decision. With a thread of essence, the avatar’s divine skeleton was connected to the template, and the template to Yoshika’s soul. The avatar would grow into a living copy of the template—consuming it in the process—and any additional essence required for the process would come from Yoshika.

She didn’t know how long she sat there meditating, just making sure nothing broke as the avatar developed. As the template burned away to fuel the process, it was replaced by real flesh and blood—the false core transforming into a real dantian as threads of meridians grew from it like veins, connecting body, mind, and soul into a single independent being.

To Yoshika’s chagrin, the essence that had gone into creating the template was gone—another piece of her foundation she’d have to rebuild from scratch. Thankfully, the memories and ideas that had gone into it remained intact, however. Once the sealed off parts of her mind and soul had been consumed, it had been as if she’d released the technique herself.

Yoshika stood and observed her work. At a glance, it looked exactly like her illusion of Li Meili, except that every part of her was real. Her avatar’s aura felt like it was part of her domain, but she couldn’t command or control it—as if it were a limb that was paralyzed. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Of her own accord, the avatar opened her eyes and looked back at Yoshika, blinking as she glanced between Jia and Eui’s bodies.

“Wow, this feels so weird! I guess this means it worked?”

Yoshika didn’t know how to respond, but Misun laughed, her spell circles glowing so brightly that they looked like they were going to melt the stone they were inscribed on.

“Haha! You’re damn right it worked! Ancestors, that’s an actual artificial human isn’t it? You did all this for a disguise?! I think I might be starting to understand what my aunt sees in you two.”

Ienaga Yumi frowned, looking decidedly uncomfortable with the entire thing.

“I can’t tell the difference between her and a naturally born human. As per the technicalities of our agreement, you have my permission to infiltrate Lushan and search for your alchemist. I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

Yoshika’s heart ached as Ienaga walked away. Her mentor’s stoic disappointment was more painful than any wound she’d ever experienced.