Chapter 130

I’m back beneath the surface again.

Such a dreadful silence when there’s nothing to do.

But this time, I don’t need to just sit idle and wait for opportunities. There’s plenty of memories to sort through until then.

First off, I’ve obtained two summoning methods.

The Yasule way.

The Daegon way.

Yasule’s method involves building an altar and sacrificing loads of offerings there to summon a god into a vessel.

The advantage is that the invoker doesn’t need any special abilities. If you want to match what they call “rank,” which is kinda like a cost, you just slaughter more stuff. It means there’s no situation where you prepared everything but couldn’t summon because you didn’t meet the qualifications.

The downside? You still need to choose the right vessel. So, you gotta have the eye for picking one and make sure such a vessel exists in that era.

When Yasule’s memories were inserted, the method for selecting vessels was included too, so choosing isn’t really the issue. The problem is that Yasule had to wait over ten years for the vessel to be born and grow up—it’s super picky like that.

If you compromise on the vessel, the summoning fails.

Also, in Yasule’s memories, you only need high-tier offerings to call upon a god. But the catch is, simple high-tier offerings aren’t enough to contain me.

That’s why it failed before.

Getting the vessel is purely a matter of luck, and it’s way too finicky.

Secondly, there’s the Daegon method.

The good part about this one? No worries about the vessel.

At first, I thought since I’m the offspring of the Harvesting System, I could fit into it, but looking at Daegon’s memories, that’s not true. Though raising the vessel does take a minimum of ten years, usually around twenty, if done properly, you can forcibly create a vessel capable of accepting a god.

Another feature of Daegon-style offerings is gaining the special abilities of the entity being raised.

Plus, the person reciting the spell, or simply “the caster,” doesn’t really matter. Ideally, the top disciple of Daegon-level strength should do it alone, but like how the Moonseon faction summoned me, multiple people can split the incantation.

The downside? It requires an astronomical amount of time, money, and manpower. To create the vessel, you have to confine them in a special room from infancy and continuously modify their body with special drugs.

Also, the casters are highly likely to die midway due to the strain, so it’s recommended to prepare five times as many casters. And there’s also the issue of how exactly to input the spell into the casters.

There’s not enough time to cram it all into one person.

Comparing the pros and cons…

Overall, Daegon’s method has higher completion.

Though comparing it to someone who once completely conquered humanity and an entire world feels a bit unfair.

On top of that, using Daegon as a benchmark, its downsides aren’t really downsides. If you can afford it, you can get it—money solves problems mentality.

It’s just that for candidates of the Harvesting System who’ve hit rock bottom with no hope left, it’s way too difficult.

People at that point usually have their personalities shredded beyond repair, so even if you give them power, operating stably like Tisah is nearly impossible.

In the end, Yasule’s method is easier to use.

Well, strictly speaking, there are three methods.

Using the offspring of the Harvesting System as an offering to ascend directly. Though it’s not the whole body ascending, just a part connecting to the upper realm.

The problem is, unless the Harvesting System is together with its offspring at the moment, I can’t detect it and thus can’t ascend.

Phew.

Climbing up from the bottom is really tough, huh?

But in the second world, I gained quite a few things too.

First, the One Stroke Cheonma Martial Art.

Any Harvester can use it. Cheonma condensed the Cheonma Martial Art to its limit and packed it into a single stroke. In fact, Samabaek used just the One Stroke Cheonma Martial Art to perfectly execute the full Cheonma Martial Art.

So…

Wait, why is it stored as a memory? Back then, Cheonma became a Harvester, so there’s no memory of him doing it. It’s the memory I observed through his perspective.

That’s why I can’t understand what he understood. Using the One Stroke Cheonma Martial Art won’t leave a memory behind, right…

But hey, it’s shorter than Eunjai’s Cheonma Martial Art, so it’s better!

What great luck!

Next, Soo-oh’s Divine Art Choseol.

Not quite sure about this one.

I gave this along with the One Stroke Cheonma Martial Art to Samabaek, but there’s no record of him ever using it. He never cut anything, nor did snow fall afterward.

Why this memory is stuck inside me, I don’t know, but since I apparently don’t have a forgetting function, maybe I’ll find a use for it someday.

And next, let’s organize my abilities—or functions.

First, I can push myself into anyone I touch.

If it’s too forceful, though, the location of the Harvester might physically explode.

Light falling toward where I am.

This seems to not change the physical address. To put it simply:

There’s this thing where people enter dreams within faded memories. Inside those dreams, you can go deeper into another dream, and if you go too deep, you hit the bottom.

The person’s body stays in place, but their mind descends deeper.

Similarly, while the person’s body remains in place, the light descends deeper—toward where I am.

It feels like the world, like a glass bottle, shatters and everything falls toward where I am, but actually, it might just be the light falling while the body stays behind.

But when the first world broke, all living things fell toward me…

This side is still unclear. Even Daegon and the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign didn’t know about the light falling.

And the second ability.

By reciting a contract document and getting consent, I can create a Harvester.

Once the other party agrees, by pushing myself into their light, it’s done. Then the Harvester can gain warmth from directly or indirectly killing others.

This is the core component for harvesting my warmth.

If the Harvester kills someone, I gain their warmth.

Maybe it happens occasionally with just one or two people, but what if it accumulates over time? What if the numbers increase?

Every moment, an enormous amount will flow in.

Just don’t overload one world. When the numbers grew too much, the first world suddenly shattered, and all life forms in it fell toward me.

It wasn’t warmth but heat, though only for a brief moment.

Ultimately, it was just a fleeting pleasure.

Gaining steadily is better than getting it all at once.

Let’s rewind.

The mechanism for gaining warmth seems somehow related to the act of killing.

If the Harvester is the ruler of a group and orders them to fight, the warmth from those killed by the group flows to me.

Tisah wasn’t a good Harvester in that sense, but in terms of total warmth, he ranked highest after Daegon.

So, I’ll only contract with people in high positions.

And by using the ability to contract with someone regardless of distance, I plan to pass down the contract text to the next generation to ensure they become Harvesters.

That’s the system I’m planning to build.

Then humans will trample the weak as they please, ensuring a steady influx of warmth.

Heheh.

Looking forward to the next world.

Alright, and the third ability.

Anyone who attacks with the intent to kill me becomes connected to me.

This was originally discovered in the first world, but in the second world, I figured out ways to apply it.

Let’s set that aside for now and focus on the fundamentals.

If they hit me, I can steal their warmth.

But this is more of a counterattack skill, meaning I can’t steal warmth unless they attack me.

Plus, one more thing.

If the opponent doesn’t intend to kill, attacking won’t establish the connection. That’s what happened with the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign’s first attack—I wondered if gravity attacks wouldn’t work, but the second one was fine.

If they attack me with the intent to kill, regardless of the type of attack, a connection is formed, and I can forcibly steal their warmth.

Their light shrivels and turns black, their body distorts and loses form, transforming them into something like humans mutated by monsters in sci-fi works.

They feel cold like me, lose their sanity, and instinctively attack any light they see in front of them.

Because there’s warmth in the light, they’re trying to get it—but they’ll never succeed.

Since they’re connected to me, I absorb all the warmth.

However, this mutation is entirely random. That one which mocked me and took its own life was very intelligent—at least smarter than felines or wild animals before they twisted.

So, I initially avoided using it on living opponents.

But I found another way.

This works alongside the fourth ability.

Reality manipulation.

It’s such an outrageous cheat—it *is* a cheat.

But the limitation is huge.

If you create something that doesn’t exist in that world, the world can’t handle it and breaks.

If you create something too detached from reality, the world can’t handle it and breaks.

Changing something existing in the world into another existing thing, like turning torn clothes into clean ones or stones into gold, doesn’t crack the world.

But creating something from nothing, like filling an empty jar with water, cracks it.

If you try to fill an empty swimming pool with water, the world will break.

I’m pretty heavy, so if you push me in, the world shatters.

It’s fairly usable, but using it too much risks breaking the world—a reality-manipulating technique.

Sounds normal when you say reality manipulation, right?

But when this ability meets the third ability, it exhibits unique power.

Youkai. Or anomalies.

Especially anomalies where rumors come first, and the physical form follows.

If they attack me and I steal their warmth, they mutate into random chunks of meat like usual. But if I forcefully push myself into their darkened light and twist reality to turn them into tools,

their light turns to dust and disperses, leaving behind tools imbued with functions derived from the rumor.

Like that blue-light emitting lantern.

Humans would probably just become objects if treated the same way, but if there’s something that can replace the rumor, you can create a tool to hold it.

I expected it to work with humans since Choseol contained me, and it turned out as expected.

In the next world, I’ll definitely make good use of it.

It’s like gaining a tool-crafting ability in a game.

And the fifth one.

Or a derivative of the third.

When the light of someone connected to me through an attack is sufficiently large and massive.

I can be forcibly pushed in to move them.

Each movement drains their light and body.

Daegon disappeared that way too.

As I stole his warmth, his light darkened and his body mutated. At that moment, through the connection created by touching him, I pushed myself in and controlled him as I wished.

Additionally, through that connection, the darkened light and distorted body vanished together.

Perhaps…

With enough practice, I might be able to do it with smaller creatures too. That way, I won’t get played around like last time.

After confirming my abilities, I review the countless memories I gained in the second world.

Especially Daegon and the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign.

They have tons of technologies I’ve never even imagined!

While reminiscing through those memories, I gaze upward at the calm sea without a ripple.

Occasionally contracting with falling lights and infusing them with power and knowledge.

Until someone eventually pulls me up from the bottom.

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