Chapter 434
The Earth-Weaving Loom was the most inconspicuous among the Five Element Equipment, looking just like an ordinary loom. And because that made it un-suited for combat, it rarely became the subject of battles like the other four pieces of the set.
It was a piece of equipment used only for development and research, which meant it was hardly ever shown to the public. Because of that, even Se-Hoon hadn’t been expecting much from the Earth-Weaving Loom.
“Hey.”
However, when the illusion of the young Li Kenxie appeared before Se-Hoon’s very own eyes, Se-Hoon had no choice but to admit he was mistaken.
“I know you made eye contact with me just now. Why are you pretending you can’t see me all of a sudden?”
The young Li Kenxie approached, waving his transparent hand in front of Se-Hoon’s face. Yet Se-Hoon averted his gaze and fell into thought, not wanting to give away that he could indeed see the young Li Kenxie.
What the hell is it?
It wasn’t quite a ghost or an illusion; it was... something in between. Yet, while that was strange enough, what Se-Hoon found even more out-of-place was why it had the appearance of a younger Li Kenxie.
The most likely explanation is... a remaining trace of his synesthetic mindscape?
The Five Element Equipment were, in Li Kenxie’s own words, “impurities” that he had carved out of himself to conquer the Tower of Heroes. If the Earth-Weaving Loom held a discarded piece of that synesthetic mindscape, which was tied to his younger self, then it wasn’t strange that it had taken on that form.
I could even consider it a clone.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Se-Hoon glanced at Li Kenxie’s clone, which was throwing punches into the air right in front of him. Seeing it, another thought sparked. If the being before him really was a clone, then why didn’t any of the other Five Element Equipment pieces exhibit the phenomenon?
The question planted the notion that it was a trap set by Offering, making Se-Hoon fall into thought again... all the while pretending not to notice, avoiding eye contact.
“Hmm...”
Eventually, the clone leaned in close and stared directly into Se-Hoon’s eyes. But after noticing nothing, it stepped back with a long sigh.
“Maybe I saw it wrong...”
Letting out another sigh full of regret, the clone turned away and went back to the loom to resume weaving.
Clack- Clack-
Transparent threads rose from beneath the ground, and the loom intricately wove them into a pale brown cloth, which sank back down into the earth upon completion.
At that point, Se-Hoon realized he was the only one who could see the entire process so clearly.
So it’s drawing power from the ley line. I still have no clue what those threads are used for, though.
Thinking he should inspect the loom properly, Se-Hoon moved closer and opened its information message.
[Earth-Weaving Loom]
[Tier: Legendary] [Quality: Perfect]
[A loom imbued with the source of earth mana.
Crafted from Primordial Soil, it can weave the batches of mana in the soil into ley lines. Upon completion, the ley line will fuse back into the earth and alter the surrounding environment based on its nature.
*Allows the user to create ley lines with the power of the earth
*Allows the user to manipulate the power of the earth fused with the ley line
*Once the ley line’s mana is depleted, it will revert to its original state
*Enables the use of the skill ‘Earth Command’]
“Damn...” Se-Hoon inadvertently muttered.
The loom didn’t just create artificial ley lines—it also gave full control over the mana of the land. Looking at it, it almost seemed like something created specifically to assist Offering’s nation-wide Offering Ritual.
Or perhaps it was the opposite, and possessing the loom had allowed them to come up with such a plan.
But regardless of which, one thing was now crystal clear: the Earth-Weaving Loom was indeed a core component of Offering’s plot.
However, that revelation just made Se-Hoon confused—it meant he was deep in enemy territory.
If this thing is that important for their plan, why would they show it to me?
Even if the Heroes Association had pressured them to take in Se-Hoon as their advisor, it was only a recommendation at best. They may have cooperated to avoid being branded as traitors, but that didn’t mean the Earth-Weaving Loom—an item far too significant—had to be shown to him just like that.
Do they think I haven’t figured them out? No, that’s too naive. In that case, it should likely be because of...
Only now did Se-Hoon realize Caden’s true aim: the decision that he, of his own will, would make now.
They’re risking everything now that they’re backed into a corner. Se-Hoon furrowed his brow.
Not only were they holding China hostage with the ticking bomb that was the Offering Ritual, but now they were even handing the detonator to the enemy? It was the kind of reckless move only those who had given up on living would make—and it was working.
Se-Hoon was hesitating.
Sure, I can come back with the Blessing of Eternal Nocturne, but... that’s a little much.
There was also the fact that there was no way to be sure whether those sacrificed through the ritual could even truly return to life in a normal state. Torn, Se-Hoon wrestled with his thoughts for a long time before cutting them off completely.
I’ll investigate the Earth-Weaving Loom first.
Time was on their side for now. If he applied pressure from multiple angles onto both the Seven Saints and Caden, perhaps disagreements would start forming between the two. There was no need to make a hasty move; it was better to investigate the loom. After that, however...
Clack- clack-
With a blank expression, Li Kenxie’s clone operated the loom and steadily wove ley lines. Li Kenxie had dismissed it as a mere impurity, but in another sense, it was a remnant of the time when Li Kenxie had still been human. Knowing that, Se-Hoon believed that if he wanted to better understand Li Kenxie’s desires and the principles behind his actions, communicating with that clone was the best path forward.
Hmm... how should I approach?
He didn’t know what kind of personality the clone had, but if it resembled the current Li Kenxie, there was a good chance it was holding a grudge over being ignored earlier.
In that case, he needed to shake the clone with a powerful enough blow—something so impactful that it would render the minor offense irrelevant—to hold a proper conversation with it.
Trying to think of something, Se-Hoon pondered over what to say. And soon enough, he began staring quietly at the ley line being woven by the Earth-Weaving Loom.
“Man, that’s some awful craftsmanship.”
“...What?”
The clone’s face twisted into a scowl.
***
When trying to get close to a stranger, the best method was always to talk about something in common. It was something Se-Hoon, having refined his interpersonal skills through his interactions with numerous heroes before he regressed, had mastered. And with it, he swiftly established a rapport with Li Kenxie’s clone.
“I could do better than this, even with just one hand.”
“You brat. You’re still wet behind the ears, and you think you know—”
“See, it’s just like this. Why can’t you do it...?”
“Wha...t? Wait, that’s—how is that even...!”
“The loom itself isn’t bad, but the method you’re using is so outdated.”
“Ggh...!”
Enraged by the insults, then confused by the demonstration, and then left speechless by the last line, the clone staggered back in defeat. By any standards, it was clear Se-Hoon was making an enemy rather than a friend, but in truth, the defeat was genuinely necessary.
When interacting with those with rigid synesthetic mindscapes—who often held such egos that they considered themselves the center of the world—if one didn’t properly establish dominance now, they would become a constant headache later.
First up, I need to crush its spirit utterly and completely.
Of course, breaking it too harshly could turn it into a true enemy if things went south. Keeping that in mind, Se-Hoon decided to leverage the clone’s unique nature instead.
“You... you can see me, can’t you? I know you can!”
“Hm... Just need a few tweaks here and there.”
Even as the clone shouted through gritted teeth, Se-Hoon kept up the perfect act by avoiding eye contact and muttering to himself as if the clone wasn’t even there. His performance was so flawless that the clone, who had been trembling with a mix of rage and embarrassment, actually calmed down before letting out a deep sigh.
“What the hell am I even doing...”
The mess was caused by its own lack of skill, but instead of admitting it, it had yelled and thrown a tantrum. Looking back, the clone felt nothing but shame. It sneaked a glance at Se-Hoon, hoping he hadn’t seen the outburst.
“I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t notice...”
At those words, Se-Hoon caught himself, suppressing the urge to blurt out, “Oh, I saw everything.” He then calmly assessed the atmosphere.
That should’ve softened him up enough...
Feigning casualness, Se-Hoon carefully infused mana into the Earth-Weaving Loom, then twitched his eyebrow and subtly shivered like he’d just felt something change. After that, he slowly turned toward the clone, dramatically widened his eyes, and gave an exaggerated double take.
“S-Sir...?”
“?!!”
With that burst of surprise, the two finally exchanged a formal greeting.
“Oh, so you’re like Sir Li Kenxie’s clone, right?”
“Hmm. Well, that’s one way to put it.”
Thanks to Se-Hoon crushing its pride already, the clone responded kindly to every question, and Se-Hoon was able to gather the basic situation without much resistance.
So the beginning of its consciousness traces back to six years ago.... That’s not as long ago as I expected.
Se-Hoon had assumed the clone had existed for at least a decade, even if not since the exact moment the loom was created.
Wait... Didn’t Li Wen say the previous owner of the loom was his wife?
His wife, Luo Mingmei, had died six years ago during childbirth, unable to withstand the rampage of the Sacred Flames while giving birth to Li Fei—timing too precise to be a coincidence.
Se-Hoon narrowed his eyes.
Did Luo Mingmei’s death affect the Earth-Weaving Loom?
High-tier equipment did often change when their owners died—especially if their synesthetic mindscape and mana flared out of control in their final moments. And if that power during those moments wasn’t properly discharged, most of the time it seeped into the equipment and caused corrosion.
But... something doesn’t quite add up.
There were no traces of Luo Mingmei left in the loom, and, more importantly, the nature of the power of Anatta should’ve prevented such a thing in the first place. That meant—Se-Hoon connected the dots—someone else had influenced the loom since then.
It’s most likely Caden, then, who has managed the loom for the past six years. Or... it’s its original creator.
With two potential suspects in mind, Se-Hoon glanced at the clone that had been rambling nonstop the entire time.
“At least this place is better. Before, I was stuck in some weird chamber full of strange contraptions, where I couldn’t even see the sky—ah, well, I can’t see it here either. Still, it was awful...”
Apparently, it had been bottling up a lot, living alone while weaving ley lines.
The clone rambled on and on, unprompted. Unlike Li Kenxie himself, the clone was more talkative with a slightly softer side, which made a new question rise for Se-Hoon.
What part of Li Kenxie is this clone?
Se-Hoon tried to recall what Li Kenxie had said when he asked about the Five Element Equipment.
“I abandoned my family’s inherited techniques, the strength an old friend passed on to me as he lay dying, the life force I had tempered for decades, and the talents I discovered too late.”
If he could figure out which of those things had been discarded into the Earth-Weaving Loom, then just maybe he could understand how Luo Mingmei’s death changed it.
But the problem is how I should figure that out...
The easiest way would be to just ask the clone directly, but Se-Hoon knew he had to be careful. Given the built-up frustration from the last six years, any talk about the original Li Kenxie could easily provoke a hostile reaction.
In that case...
He thought of a daring conversational tactic, one he had used in the past to tame the Three Dogs.
Then, when the clone finally paused, he smoothly shifted the topic.
“So, what have you been doing all this time, Mr. Clone?”
“‘Mr. Clone’? Just call me Earthweaver.”
The clone—Earthweaver—brushed off the title and stroked its smooth, beardless chin.
“What I’ve been doing, huh.... Well, I may have my consciousness, but I’m still just a piece of equipment. I just lived like I was tasked to.”
“Tasked, as in at the owner’s command?”
“Not exactly. It’s more like mana flowed in, so I figured I just had to do something with it. That’s about it.”
“Hm...”
Did Luo Mingmei’s death affect the transfer of ownership? As Se-Hoon wondered about it, Earthweaver looked at him curiously.
“Why? Do you want to be the new owner or something? I mean, I tend to reject most people, but if it’s you—”
“No, not interested.”
“Good. I wasn’t planning on offering anyway.”
Se-Hoon let out a small chuckle at Earthweaver’s bluntness, then composed himself.
“Rather than that... I am keen to know more about you, Earthweaver.”
“Me...?”
If that’s what he wanted, shouldn’t he just become the owner? Unable to understand, Earthweaver gave Se-Hoon a puzzled look until Se-Hoon pointed at the ley line still not absorbed into the ground.
“Do you think this ley line is good work?”
“That’s...”
It hesitated. Before, it would likely have proudly said yes, but after seeing the new possibilities Se-Hoon demonstrated earlier, it couldn’t answer so confidently anymore.
“I’m sure you realized too. This ley line is both brilliant... and a tragedy.”
“...Hm?”
“What’s the point of its brilliance if it can never blossom?”
Something stirred deep within Earthweaver’s chest.
“To truly unleash its power... it needs to take one more step forward. And that’s not something I—or any other owner—can do for it.”
The loneliness from six years of isolation, the questions about its own sudden awakening, and the longing for a higher purpose...
This feels odd...
As Earthweaver grew aware of a desire it hadn’t even realized was there, a look of confusion crossed its face.
“Earthweaver.”
Se-Hoon smiled gently.
“Would you take on that new step with me~?”
It felt like a suspicious offer, but, strangely enough, Earthweaver didn’t want to say no. And upon realizing that, it finally understood something it had only ever read about in books.
So this... is what they call a devil’s whisper.