Episode 2: I Won't Be a Victim This Time
He opened his eyes.
Muk Yeo-jin was standing in a wide clearing, surrounded by a dense forest of large trees.
He immediately knew where he was.
How could he not?
During his childhood years spent at Mangdamjeon Hall, this was his personal sanctuary—a place he would come to when his mind was troubled, where he would stand silently, gaze at the scenery, and paint.
Mangdamjeon Hall had been swept away in the turmoil of war, reduced to black ash more than a decade ago.
This meant only one thing.
'Really… does this mean I've really returned to the past?'
To a time before he met Cheon Hwa-rin and his sworn siblings.
To a time before the Central Plains was ravaged by the Primal Yin Cult.
To a time before he lost everyone who had always protected him.
He had returned to being Muk Yeo-jin, the weak youngest son of Muk Woo-myeong, the Sado Cheonju who had been the first to unite the Black Path.
Muk Yeo-jin stared blankly at his surroundings.
"To think that what Sister Cheon said was true…"
Although she had confessed her long-held secret at the very end, he could take his time figuring out what to call her from now on.
That wasn't what was important right now.
Muk Yeo-jin crossed his arms and muttered.
"First, seeing as I'm at Mangdamjeon Hall, it means I haven't turned fifteen yet."
Mangdamjeon Hall (蟒潭殿).
The great Janggang River divided the Central Plains in two. The Lord of the Heretic Heaven (邪道天), Muk Woo-myeong (墨愚銘), had united the forces of the Black Path south of the river.
All of his children, from the moment they were weaned until they turned fifteen, were required to reside at Mangdamjeon Hall, located in the center of the Heretic Heaven.
The official reason was to protect them from the threat of assassination.
Seeing this, the people of the world would say, "Even the Sado Cheonju cherishes his own children."
"That man cherishes his children? A passing dog would laugh. I'd sooner believe that my brother Maeng would be studying literature at a village school."
Whatever the reason, the children of the Sado Cheonju were not allowed to take a single step outside Mangdamjeon Hall until after their fifteenth birthday.
He didn't know his exact age yet, but judging from the size of his hands and feet and his eye level, he was somewhere between ten and twelve.
At that moment, a person he had completely forgotten came to Muk Yeo-jin's mind.
"Wait… then, that bastard is still here…"
The Sado Cheonju, Muk Woo-myeong, had taken five wives and had seven children.
Muk Yeo-jin was the youngest son among them.
At this time, his other brothers and sisters, who were much older, had all left Mangdamjeon Hall. Only one half-brother, a year older than him, still resided there.
Enough time had passed for mountains and rivers to change several times over, yet the memory of that punk still made his stomach churn.
He would have preferred not to run into him, but as always, the world never goes as one wishes.
Sure enough.
"Muk Yeo-jin!!"
The first thing he felt upon hearing that familiar, grating voice was disgust.
Muk Yeo-jin turned his head toward the sound.
His half-brother, Muk Byeong-ho, was approaching with a sleazy grin, as if he had found an amusing toy.
Muk Yeo-jin didn't have a single good memory of him.
Throughout his entire childhood at Mangdamjeon Hall, he had been relentlessly bullied by Muk Byeong-ho.
'Compared to him, who grew stronger every day by training in martial arts, I, who didn't even start my training and was cooped up in my room painting, must have looked like a pathetic plaything.'
"Hey, little brother. How dare you not answer when your great older brother calls?"
Swish, swish!
As he spoke, Muk Byeong-ho dangled something he was holding in his hand right in front of Muk Yeo-jin's nose.
A flash went through Muk Yeo-jin's mind.
'Ah! I remember now.'
This definitely happened when he was twelve.
He was able to recall it instantly because the incident had remained in his memory for a long time.
This was the day Muk Byeong-ho had beaten a stray cat—one that Muk Yeo-jin had occasionally cared for and grown fond of—to death, then dangled it in his face to mock him.
At the time, he couldn't say a single word back to Muk Byeong-ho.
He was just a weak boy who buried the cat, which Muk Byeong-ho had discarded after growing bored, in a sunny spot and shed tears like a frightened chicken.
That was the Muk Yeo-jin of the past.
Thinking back on it now, it was utterly pathetic.
Muk Yeo-jin slowly shook his head.
'I'm sorry, little cat. I think I gave you a name back then, but I can't remember it now.'
His tear ducts had long since dried up; he had no tears left to shed.
Instead.
'I'll make sure to completely destroy this bastard.'
Muk Yeo-jin, who had been staring indifferently at Muk Byeong-ho, replied with a deep smile.
"Why are you annoyingly calling me, you little bedwetter?"
"Wh-what?"
Muk Byeong-ho had a particular problem with wetting the bed when he was young.
It was enough for rumors to discreetly spread among the servants.
Of course, after a ten-year-old Muk Byeong-ho had beaten the servant who spread the rumor to within an inch of his life, the word became an absolute taboo among the staff.
As if his shame had been exposed to the entire world, Muk Byeong-ho's face turned bright red.
"Hey… you want to die?"
Pfft.
Muk Yeo-jin let out an open sneer and took a step forward.
Does this child, who looks like he would vanish without a trace if pressed with a finger, even know what death is?
In truth, the thirteen-year-old Muk Byeong-ho had already been training his body and learning martial arts for eight years.
In contrast, Muk Yeo-jin at this time was a complete nobody who hadn't even begun his training.
Normally, Muk Yeo-jin wouldn't have been able to even touch his toes.
However.
The 'current' Muk Yeo-jin, who had already experienced the battlefield of his past life, was confident he could tear a dozen punks like Muk Byeong-ho to pieces even if they all attacked him at once.
Unable to contain his anger, Muk Byeong-ho threw the first punch.
"I'll make you crawl around Mangdamjeon Hall like a dog today!!"
It was a fist imbued with a pure internal energy that was hard to believe came from a thirteen-year-old.
Muk Yeo-jin calmly watched the incoming fist.
'It seems he has quite a bit of talent, as expected.'
But that was all.
Across the entire Central Plains, talent on Muk Byeong-ho's level was a dime a dozen.
This was probably why, in the end, Muk Byeong-ho never received even a speck of interest from his father, the Sado Cheonju.
Whooosh!
"Huh?"
Muk Byeong-ho's fist cut through empty air.
He had expected Muk Yeo-jin to be on the floor, crying with a bloody nose and snot running down his face.
What was happening?
The moment he tried to turn his head, a horrific pain overwhelmed him.
PWAAAK!!
"Aaaaaaaargh!!"
Muk Yeo-jin's fist had slammed squarely into his face.
His nose must have been shattered by the single blow, as blood gushed from both nostrils like a waterfall.
"You… crazy…?!"
BAAM!
"Ugh!"
Muk Byeong-ho couldn't finish his sentence as Muk Yeo-jin's foot slammed into his abdomen.
This was the first time in his life he had ever been hit like this.
His limbs trembled, and tears streamed down his face reflexively.
Muk Yeo-jin closed the distance as the boy stumbled back and unleashed a merciless barrage of kicks.
Thwack! Whump! Crack!
"Aack! Urk! Guh… sa… save me…"
Muk Yeo-jin had no intention of letting the boy, who had already lost the will to fight and was crawling on the ground, off easy.
Since he had no internal energy, his strikes weren't imbued with qi, but every single point he hit was a vital spot that could easily be fatal.
The body of a child that hadn't finished growing.
If he continued this ruthless beating on such a fragile body, the boy would certainly die or at least be crippled.
He knew he was being harsh on a spoiled child.
But this was something Muk Yeo-jin had done with complete intention.
'It's about time for them to show up.'
On the surface, only servants and a few guards were stationed within Mangdamjeon Hall.
But this was the residence of the direct children of the Sado Cheonju.
How could there not be a single hidden guard?
'Of course, their role is probably more surveillance than protection.'
Muk Yeo-jin's fist, which had been indiscriminately pummeling Muk Byeong-ho, changed its course toward his dantian.
Just before a clear finishing blow that would be impossible to avoid and would leave him half-crippled landed…
Sure enough.
Thwip!
A man in a dark blue martial arts uniform appeared as if from nowhere and grabbed Muk Yeo-jin's arm.
"It would be best to stop here, Young Master."
He had actually been watching the fight between the two from the very beginning.
But the sight of Muk Yeo-jin, from whom he couldn't feel even a hint of power, unilaterally beating Muk Byeong-ho had left even him watching in a daze.
Because of that, he had almost made the critical mistake of missing his chance to intervene.
"Young Master Yeo-jin. This is…"
"Let go."
"Pardon?"
"I said, let go of this hand."
The moment the man met Muk Yeo-jin's cold gaze, his body trembled slightly.
That was not the gaze of a mere twelve-year-old child.
What on earth was it?
Yes.
There was power in his eyes.
The kind of dignity that emanates from absolute rulers who have reached the pinnacle of power.
In that instant, the martial artist had felt that from Muk Yeo-jin.
Step.
The man hastily took a step back and bowed his head respectfully.
"I have committed a discourtesy, Young Master."
Muk Yeo-jin, with an indifferent expression, nudged the already unconscious Muk Byeong-ho with the tip of his foot.
"Take this to the infirmary."
"Yes, I understand."
Then, Muk Yeo-jin waved his hand dismissively and left the clearing.
Even without looking back, he could feel the man's gaze on his slowly retreating back.
'A report will probably go straight to my father, the Sado Cheonju.'
That was exactly what Muk Yeo-jin had wanted.
Not even an hour had passed since he had regressed, but Muk Yeo-jin had already taken a first step that was distinctly different from his past.
"I won't live like a fool and be a victim this time either."
The tallest skyscraper among the many pavilions of the Heretic Heaven's main fortress.
Manlyeongung (滿蓮穹).
The residence of the Heavenly Lord.
And on the palace's top floor.
Someone crossed the center of the grand hall.
The fact that his confident steps made not even the faintest rustling sound showed that his lightness skill had reached the peak of mastery.
In the innermost part of the hall, dozens of steps before the grand throne, he dropped to one knee.
"Ju Gok (駐谷), Leader of the White Wolf Unit (白狼隊主), greets the Heavenly Lord."
It was the very same martial artist who had stopped Muk Yeo-jin's fist earlier that day.
A moment later.
Whoooooosh!
A desolate wind, cold enough to chill the bones of even a master like Ju Gok, blew through the enclosed hall.
"What is it?"
Drip.
Without realizing it, sweat trickled down his back.
Just hearing the voice made his toes tingle with fear.
Ju Gok cleared his throat and spoke.
"I have a matter to report regarding an incident that occurred at Mangdamjeon Hall this afternoon."
"Mangdamjeon Hall… Go on."
. . .
After explaining the incident between Muk Yeo-jin and Muk Byeong-ho, Ju Gok bowed his head respectfully.
"Then, I will take my leave."
"You may go."
Long after he had disappeared, the Sado Cheonju, Muk Woo-myeong, who had been sitting on his throne, suddenly let out a small chuckle.
It was because of the words that Ju Gok had hesitated to say but finally uttered at the end.
—"It is improper for me to say, but the Youngest Master's gaze was… reminiscent of Your Excellency's."
"The youngest, is it… How audacious."
The very next day.
The Sado Cheonju, who had been in seclusion for years and had not made any public appearances, announced an official event and revealed himself to the world once more.
All to re-evaluate the youngest son he had once considered a yawn.