> "Even a shattered blade can cut again... if forged in fire."
— Ryu Seok-jin
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Iron Vow Saber Sect—one of the Tier 2 Ten Major Sects of the murim, nestled near the Grand Citadel.
A soft breeze fluttered through silk curtains. Morning light spilled gently across the wooden floor of a quiet, unfamiliar room.
Ryu Seok-jin's eyes snapped open.
The ceiling above him was plain, unfamiliar. The scent in the air—fresh herbs, lavender, and polished oak—was far too serene for the battlefield where he had died.
> "I... survived?"
He bolted upright.
No wounds. No searing pain. No blood-soaked robes. His body felt light. Too light.
> "Was I... healed?"
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Master, are you alright?"
Ryu turned his head. A young maid stood by the bedside, eyes wide with concern.
> Am I in a hidden medical sect? A secluded healing valley?
He searched his torso and arms—no scars, no gashes. His hand brushed against a silver mirror on the nearby table. Out of instinct, he grabbed it.
> "Young Master Nam Cheon, would you like some water?" the maid asked gently.
Ryu froze.
Nam Cheon?
He stared into the mirror.
The face staring back wasn't his.
Gone were the sharp eyes and stern jaw of the Sword Domain Sovereign. In their place was the youthful visage of a teenage boy, soft and unscarred, no older than seventeen.
> "Who the hell is this?"
Panic surged through him. Without thinking, he clenched his fist and struck his own jaw—hard. A sharp sting flared, and a thin trail of blood welled at the corner of his lip.
Not an illusion.
The maid gasped. "Physician! Somebody get the physician!" she screamed, sprinting out of the room.
Ryu sat still, heart pounding.
> "Not even the Five Great Clans could create such a perfect illusion. This isn't some dream... this is real."
His gaze returned to the mirror. He studied the boy's unfamiliar features. His expression darkened.
> "Reincarnation... So I died. And now... I live again in this weakling's shell."
A cold grin curled across his lips.
> "How delightful. To rise from the ashes of my defeat... I shall savor every moment of their despair."
He attempted to stand—only for his legs to tremble violently. He collapsed back into the chair, breathing hard.
"This body is pathetic. Like a newborn fawn. Absolute garbage."
On the desk sat a folded letter sealed in crimson wax. Breaking it open, Ryu skimmed the contents.
> To my son, Nam Cheon. I'll be away for one month on urgent business. Rest and recover. The sect is in your care. — Nam Gyeon, Sect Elder
"Iron Vow Saber Sect..." Ryu muttered.
The name rang faintly. A mid-tier sect among the Ten Major, located near the Grand Citadel. He'd never interacted with them, but even he had heard the name in passing.
> So this body belongs to Nam Cheon... the only son of an Iron Vow elder.
The door burst open.
A physician in white robes stormed in, tears brimming in his eyes.
"Young Master Cheon! Thank the heavens! Are you alright?!"
Ryu narrowed his eyes.
> Who is this snake?
The man immediately seized his wrist, pressing two fingers to his pulse.
"I was told something felt off. You have no idea how worried I was," the physician said, voice trembling.
Ryu's gaze turned to steel.
"I'm fine," he replied coldly. "There's no need to fuss."
The physician smiled with relief. "I've prepared your favorite meal. It will help restore your energy." He gestured to the maid, who rushed in with a tray.
A steaming bowl of faintly pink rice was placed on the table.
"Moonpetal Rice?" Ryu asked, frowning.
"Yes. Infused with spiritual energy. Perfect for restoring vitality," the physician said with a smile too wide, too practiced.
Ryu's smile thinned.
> Moonpetal Rice… good for the healthy, poison to the weak. And he knows it. He even checked my pulse in secret—trying to figure out why the sickly heir suddenly isn't dying.
"Eat it regularly, and you'll be fit for the Ten Major Sect martial competitions," the physician added smoothly.
That caught Ryu's attention.
"Wait... how long has that competition been going on?"
The physician blinked. "This will be the 50th year, if I recall correctly."
Ryu leaned back, calculating.
> So only a few years have passed since my death. That means the Five Clan Heads should still be alive… perfect.
He waved his hand.
"I don't have much appetite. Leave the food. I'll eat later."
"But Young Mast—"
"Go. I want to rest. Do not wake me."
The room fell silent after they left.
Ryu stared at the untouched rice.
> This world is no different than the last. Smiling snakes in healer's robes. Scheming cowards hiding behind false concern.
A memory flashed—the last stand in the burning forest, the faces of the Five Great Clans bearing down on him, his blood staining the earth.
> "Don't worry, you rotten bastards..." he whispered, eyes narrowing.
> "...This time, I'll kill you all with just one swing of my sword."