Chapter 207

Chapter 207: The Path to Seeking a Solution (1)

A full forty-eight hours had passed now.

The trail winding up the peaks appeared to have no conclusion.

The pace maintained by Dongmun Mutoe remained perfectly steady.

His speed sat at a strange midpoint—slightly too hurried to qualify as a casual stroll, yet entirely too unhurried to be considered a proper Lightness Skill.

Such a cadence was characteristic of the specialized Lightness Skill employed by a Formation Master.

Unlike standard martial artists, he did not channel Internal Energy to launch himself off rocky ledges or blades of grass.

Rather, his technique required perceiving the subtle currents of True Qi running just under the ground, drawing upon that energy to gently propel himself onward.

This specific footwork relied on a Formation-style method that drifted seamlessly atop the earth veins.

Unfortunately, the local earth veins throughout this particular territory proved to be remarkably hostile.

“Good grief, these qi channels are completely chaotic, just an absolute disaster. They are tangled in knots, frankly, identical to that fellow.”

Travel to the Formation Tower with the utmost speed.

Merely a single phrase.

Yet, who could have guessed that a lone utterance would carry such an immense, crushing burden?

His legs had not simply bolted toward a solitary destination the very instant those terms were spoken.

In fact, he had engaged in further conversation with that individual, Kim Rae-won, following the statement.

Ultimately, choosing to journey toward the Formation Tower had been his personal conclusion.

By doing so, he intended to extract deeper explanations from the man, and besides, making a trip to the Formation Tower was something he needed to fulfill regardless.

Reflecting on it now, however, it felt as though his own volition had been entirely bypassed.

Though these limbs undeniably belonged to Dongmun Mutoe, his entire physical form was being pulled inexorably toward the northwest, exactly as if an invisible directional Formation had been stamped directly onto the bottom of his feet.

Halting his forward progress remained entirely within his power.

Taking a momentary break was absolutely doable.

The solitary restriction was his total inability to alter his heading.

How could he describe this sensation?

It resembled the allure of a legendary, state-shattering masterpiece of a Formation waiting at his destination, yearning specifically for his intellect to decipher it, ensuring that any desire to wander toward a different compass point vanished before it could form.

He was acting precisely like an infected insect driven blindly toward a source of water.

Throughout his trek, he had experimented with this boundary on multiple occasions.

To illustrate, when encountering a fork that split three ways, he purposely redirected his steps toward the east; yet within a mere handful of paces, his feet instinctively pivoted back toward the route he was compelled to take.

Alternatively, on an occasion where he forced himself to take a rare afternoon rest, he ended up behaving like a somnambulist.

He would rise unconsciously from his slumber and begin shuffling forward in a semi-conscious trance.

Incidents of this nature occurred time and again.

Make haste to the Formation Tower, without any delay.

Evidently, these twin directives were functioning as an absolute binding restriction.

“Still, the sheer ingenuity of it is staggering.”

He remained entirely in the dark regarding how the system operated for what Kim Rae-won referred to as an Oath, let alone where such power originated.

It was a system capable of flawless regulation and containment over a person, completely absent of any mental coercion or physical shackles.

What served as the conduit? Was a physical link even necessary? Did it circulate through his vital vessels and qi? Was it an assault upon the consciousness itself? Or could it perhaps be classified as some form of immortal art?

With a soft rustling sound, Dongmun Mutoe retrieved a crinkled stack of parchment from the inner folds of his garment.

He had already accumulated a dozen pages, densely written on both the front and back.

These notes comprised the chaotic ideas he had jotted down during the brief lulls in his steady march.

[Theoretical Breakdown of the Oath Organization]

Every single spatial matrix and mathematical matrix within his repertoire lay scattered across the pages in complete disarray, yet at this stage, they amounted to nothing more than futile conjectures and unreadable markings.

Exhaling a weary sigh, Dongmun Mutoe gave a disheartened shake of his head and flipped straight to the concluding sheet.

A sketch outlining the Eight Trigrams lay superimposed directly over an illustration detailing human Meridians, with a chaotic web of indicators branching outward.

Ultimately, every single pathway led back to a central, questioned term: [Faith?].

“The bond that links my own existence to the universe that places its trust in me.”

That solitary definition was the entirety of what Kim Rae-won had offered regarding the nature of Faith.

“What sort of twisted logic is that supposed to be?”

An intersection combining human devotion and reality itself.

Such a premise would be entirely comprehensible if it fell under the domain of spiritual devotion.

However, Dong Bongsu was by no means a pious individual.

To the best of Dongmun Mutoe’s observation, that fellow possessed not a single grain of genuine reverence.

He belonged to a category of people fundamentally incapable of holding such sentiments.

Even so.

‘To think it relies on Faith, of all concepts.’

Could it imply that he harvests the convictions of surrounding souls to serve as a sort of propellant?

“Does this mean the system is designed so that the devotee supplies the raw energy, while the recipient of that devotion gains the ultimate momentum…?”

Analyzed through the principles of the Formation Dao, this configuration represented a classic inverted-current model.

Ordinarily, an individual invoking a matrix must expend their personal reserve of energy to manifest a phenomenon.

The standard paradigm dictated that the practitioner acts as both the provider of energy and the beneficiary of its ultimate execution.

This identical architecture governed the laws of martial cultivation.

Viewed through a wider lens, it matched the foundational laws governing the natural order.

After all, who sustains their own body by having someone else consume food?

A person dines, purges, and exerts energy to survive, navigate, and defend their own being.

While one might perform external deeds on behalf of another person, they can hardly process nourishment on their behalf, can they?

Be that as it may, Kim Rae-won had spoken those exact words without hesitation.

The bond that links my own existence to the universe that places its trust in me.

To put it another way, this phenomenon designated as Faith centered around extracting the external essence of fellow beings—the ethereal, abstract currency of ‘conviction’—and transforming it directly into an active resource for the practitioner.

“That is completely preposterous.”

His steps grew swifter.

Accelerating his stride whenever his mind became hyper-stimulated was an enduring quirk of Dongmun Mutoe’s.

“We are not dealing with a standard matrix here. It fails to qualify as an immortal art, and it is absolutely unrelated to any martial discipline.”

His fundamental premise had been fundamentally flawed from the very beginning.

By continuously attempting to force an unfamiliar concept into the paradigm of his established knowledge, he had ensured that nothing would align properly.

Could this potentially represent an entirely novel branch of operational mechanics completely absent from the scholastic traditions of the Central Plains, and perhaps missing even from the celestial spheres?

An unmapped domain entirely outside his previous experiences.

Oh.

Oh, heavens.

With goosebumps breaking out across his flesh, Dongmun Mutoe kept furiously recording notes onto his sheets while maintaining his hurried pace.

With each mile that brought him closer to the Formation Tower, his hypotheses began to solidify into concrete ideas.

He chose to resort to the absolute final option available to him when confronted by a riddle that defied his comprehension and seemed completely unresolvable through normal logic.

“Simply…”

It was an action he desperately wished to avoid, yet—

“I must place my trust. I will force myself to extend belief. That scoundrel—no, that fellow—no, wait! That exceptional individual…”

He would cultivate genuine ‘faith’ directed toward Kim Rae-won.

He would hold him in high regard.

He would venerate him.

Starting from this very second, he, Dongmun Mutoe, made the conscious choice to invest his devotion into a deity.

A divinity operating under the identity of Kim Rae-won.

Perhaps by doing so, he might finally secure a thread to unravel this enigma?

What length would he not go to in order to map out an uncharted domain of truth?

If Kim Rae-won commanded him to consume waste, he would gladly partake…

Partake, he would absolutely have to ingest it, blast it all!

● ● ●

Yet another day reached its conclusion, and as the brilliant hues of twilight thoroughly saturated the horizon, a recognizable vista at last materialized before Dongmun Mutoe’s eyes.

The lower ridges of the Yunling Mountain Range.

Beheld from afar, the peaks resembled sheets of neatly creased parchment extending toward the northwest.

Trekking parallel to these crests for a bit further would eventually bring him directly to the threshold of the Formation Tower.

Nevertheless, the remaining span of land still demanded an entire day’s worth of continuous walking to cross.

An intense throbbing filled his lower limbs.

This was the threshold of exhaustion for a physique completely lacking the conditioning of a martial practitioner.

Then again, it was precisely due to these physical limitations that he had ascended to the rank of a Trigram Master.

Because his physical vessel was fragile, his intellect was forced to develop immense fortitude.

Because his intellect possessed such fortitude, he was naturally destined to master the complexities of Formations.

Because he attained mastery over Formations, his physical fragility ceased to be a true hindrance.

A magnificent, inescapable loop.

Or perhaps, it should be called a beneficial loop?

“It is of no consequence.”

Such had been the verdict delivered by Kim Rae-won.

Gaining access to the threshold of the Yunling Mountain Range signified that he had successfully reached the local Liaison Office managed by the Formation Tower.

This specific Liaison Office functioned as a minor information hub for the greater Formation Tower network, scattered strategically throughout the realm.

Within its walls, roughly a dozen Low-rank Formation Masters were assigned to compile local solicitations from the surrounding territory and serve as direct conduits to the primary base of the Heavenly Formation Dao Alliance.

Sure enough, a short while later, a well-constructed, double-storied timber structure featuring a banner adorned with the emblem of the Formation Tower rippling above its roof line emerged in the distance.

Dongmun Mutoe directed his footsteps straight toward the building.

The restrictive power of the Oath showed no signs of resistance, suggesting that it analyzed this brief halt at the Liaison Office as an efficient measure to accelerate his overall journey.

A youthful Formation Disciple keeping watch at the entrance gave a sudden start, jerking his chin upward as the traveler neared.

“Oh?”

The sentry’s attention locked directly onto the vestments worn by Dongmun Mutoe.

More specifically, his concentration was riveted by the exact shade of the decorative stitching on the fabric.

It initially carried the appearance of silver, yet possessed an entirely different quality.

“Could that be…”

The adolescent Formation Disciple fell into complete disarray.

“Platinum?!”

To an untrained eye, silver and platinum threading might appear nearly identical during a fleeting glance.

However, the profound character of their radiance varied dramatically.

Silver gleamed with a brilliant, frosty luminescence.

Platinum resonated with a dense, profound richness.

In the hierarchy of the Formation Tower, silver patterns denoted an individual holding the status of a standard Formation Master.

Specifically, a Mid-rank Formation Master.

Conversely, the presence of platinum indicated something far greater.

“A Tri-Trigram Master?!”

The lookout, completely dumbfounded by the utterly unforeseen arrival of a Trigram Master, immediately sprinted forward with frantic urgency.

“Please forgive my insolence. My vision was clouded, causing me to fail to identify the venerable Trigram Master right away—”

“Drop the formalities.”

Dongmun Mutoe dismissed the apologies with a flick of his wrist.

“Do you happen to have any brewed tea?”

“I beg your pardon? Ah, certainly! I do! Let me step inside the Liaison Office to prepare a fresh pot immediately—”

“Just hand over whatever you were currently consuming.”

“Excuse me? But that is my personal cup…”

Before the guard could finish, Dongmun Mutoe had already snatched up the vessel resting atop a flat boulder near the sentry’s post, emptying its contents down his throat without a second thought.

The moment the sugary, temperate liquid coated his parched throat, a wave of relief washed through his heavily fatigued frame.

“What do they call you?”

“My name is Ha Geun-yeong, Trigram Master!”

“Very well, Formation Disciple Ha. Provide me with some information.”

Dongmun Mutoe spoke as he returned the empty cup to its resting spot.

“The contract dispute involving the Vast Heaven Infinite Sword Sect and the Dark Rakshasa Way remains active at this time, correct?”

“Yes, th-that is correct! That matches the reports I have received. Both factions have officially filed petitions for operational support from the Formation Tower…”

“What is the current status?”

“A sub-subordinate of my standing would not be privy to those details… Oh, actually, if I may inquire. Could you perhaps be Trigram Master Dongmun representing our Illusion Formation Department?”

“Indeed. What prompts you to ask?”

“Trigram Master Yan Bilyeong was recently conducting an active search for the specific Trigram Master assigned to the Illusion Formation Department.”

The fingers Dongmun Mutoe was using to steady the teacup froze mid-motion.

“Trigram Master Yan was seeking me?”

“Correct. Trigram Master Yan Bilyeong alongside Trigram Master Myo Jinheo were traveling as a pair attempting to locate your whereabouts, Trigram Master Dongmun.”

Myo Jinheo was hunting for me as well?

Ah, it stands to reason that those two intend to collaborate on this particular assignment.

“What is their current location?”

“They journeyed past this outpost just a handful of days back.”

“…They already went past?”

A solitary brow on Dongmun Mutoe’s face jerked upward, even as he struggled to control his lower limbs, which were practically vibrating with the urge to resume their march.

“In which direction did they travel?”

“They indicated their destination was the River Capital. Word reached them that the most recent commission you took on occurred within the vicinity of the River Capital, Trigram Master Dongmun.”

“…”

The reflection of his own features dancing on the remaining moisture in the cup appeared warped.

‘Our paths completely crossed without meeting.’

While Yan Bilyeong had descended south toward the River Capital to intercept him, he himself was tracking north toward the destination of the Formation Tower.

Geographically speaking, they logically ought to have crossed paths along the way, but the wilderness offered countless routes. If they chose different trails, locating one another across the immense expanse of the Central Plains became an exercise in futility.

‘Well, knowing my Junior Sister, she possesses the tracking skills to follow my movements all the way back to the Hero’s Sect.’

If that held true, it was an absolute guarantee that Yan Bilyeong and Kim Rae-won would inevitably cross paths.

‘Sect Leader Kim combined with Trigram Master Yan.’

Furthermore, Myo Jinheo accompanied her on this trek.

An incredibly unsettling premonition began to bloom in his chest.

Ought I to retrace my steps?

His limbs disagreed.

As an experiment, he forced himself to plant one foot in the direction of the River Capital, aiming toward the southeast.

Immediately, the muscles in his leg locked up as rigid as stone, and his entire physical form warped under a sudden, wrenching strain.

Just as predicted, the relentless mechanism of the Oath absolutely refused to tolerate any alteration to his course.

“…Are you capable of transmitting a dispatch on my behalf?”

“Absolutely, Trigram Master! Without a doubt! I shall have it forwarded immediately through our communication couriers.”

Ha Geun-yeong scrambled around frantically to retrieve sheets of paper and an ink stone.

Dongmun Mutoe hovered his fingers over the writing brush for a brief second before freezing, a subtle smirk beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Heh, actually, forget about it.”

Dongmun Mutoe promptly returned the writing implement to its place.

“There is no necessity for a dispatch.”

“Excuse me? But, Trigram Master…?”

“Heheheh.”

“Trigram Master?!”

“Ah, do forgive my outburst. It merely occurred to me that a highly entertaining sequence of events is on the horizon. Heheheheh.”

It was highly probable.

‘No, it is an absolute certainty.’

Dongmun Mutoe drained the final droplets of tea lingering at the bottom of the vessel.

A sharp clinking sound echoed.

He rose to his full height the moment the dish touched the surface.

“Much obliged for your assistance, Formation Disciple Ha.”

“The honor is entirely mine, Trigram Master!”

Ha Geun-yeong hastily pulled himself up to a standing posture.

“Respected elder, is there any additional service you require?”

“There is none.”

Stepping away from the perimeter of the Liaison Office, Dongmun Mutoe cast a final glance over his shoulder.

Looking toward the southeast, the distant River Capital remained entirely hidden behind the massive peaks of the terrain.

He locked his eyes onto that unseen point for a brief moment before snapping his gaze back around.

‘My deepest apologies, Junior Sister.’

Heheh, let us ensure we reunite unharmed back at the grand estate of the Formation Tower.

Surely you comprehend the sheer impossibility of fighting an urge when an outcome promises to be this entertaining?

Shortly after, Dongmun Mutoe suppressed his quiet amusement, adjusted his stance, and advanced firmly toward the northwest, navigating directly toward the Formation Tower.

The unyielding grip of the Oath provided a powerful, commanding shove against his spine.