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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Divine Demon, Jeongcheon.
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-Splash.
The man staggered as he stepped into a pool of blood.
"Huu."
As the man regained his balance and let out a long sigh, the pupils of the three warriors confronting him quivered.
"We-we have to attack!"
He shouted to overcome his fear, but no one dared to step forward, only glancing at each other.
"Are you afraid, Lord of the Namgung Family?"
The man, sweeping back his long, blood-soaked hair, pulled out the sword that had pierced through his chest and protruded from his back.
-Shhhk!
"A fine sword."
Of course it was.
It was the sword of the Wudang Sect's leader, who had inherited the title of Sword Saint.
However, the fine sword's owner had become just one of the hundreds of corpses scattered about, his head severed by the man's own sword.
"Amitabha. For now, we should buy time…"
Before the Shaolin Abbot could finish his sentence, suggesting they buy time instead of facing the mortally wounded man, the staggering man's form blurred.
-Clang!
The Abbot, blocking the man's sword strike from point-blank range with a fiery palm, was instantly thrown backward.
The remaining two warriors watched the fight, their expressions hesitant, unsure whether to help the Abbot or not.
"Are-are you just going to stand there and watch?!!"
At the Abbot's strained cry, the two warriors clenched their teeth and rushed toward the man.
"Die! You monster!"
"Just die!!"
-Shhlick!
-Squelch!
-Scrape.
Sounds chilling to the bone echoed through the area.
The Namgung Family Head's sword slashed open his side, and the Huashan Sect Leader's sword pierced his leg.
But the man, his eyes gleaming with killing intent, still managed to sever the Shaolin Abbot's head.
Even as blood streamed ceaselessly from the corner of his mouth, he wore a smile.
"Ptui!"
The man spat on the rolling head and the Abbot's falling corpse, a powerful energy erupting from his body in that instant.
-Fwoosh!
The Namgung Family Head instantly retreated, putting distance between them.
The Huashan Sect Leader, a step too slow, felt fear spread across his face as the man charged toward him.
"Mo-monster…"
-Clang!
They had only exchanged a single blow, yet his grip tore open, gushing blood.
The Divine Demon, Jeongcheon.
One couldn't help but be horrified by the incredible divine power of the Lone Demon, to whom even the demons of the Heavenly Mountains would yield.
To capture this one man, all the elite masters of the Nine Great Sects had gathered.
And yet, the result was a crushing defeat.
Even if they killed him now, the Nine Great Sects had already lost a tremendous amount of their strength.
-Clink!
The Huashan Sect Leader's sword flew into the air, leaving behind a faint ring.
At the same time, split in two, he collapsed in vain.
-Thrust!
As a searing pain flared in his back, the man thrust his sword backward through his own body.
-Thrust! Shunk!
"Gack!"
The Namgung Family Head, who had stabbed the man in the back, was dumbfounded by the man's sword, which had suddenly shot out and pierced his solar plexus.
"Cough! T-to the very end… You just won't die quietly."
-Shlck.
The man pulled out his sword, turned around, and smiled.
"Why would I make it easy for you?"
-Slice.
After lopping off his opponent's head, the man finally fell to his knees.
"Haaah."
With a final sigh, his vision began to blur.
The man, who had killed three masters even after taking a sword to the heart, looked up at the gloomy sky one last time.
"Master… I'm sorry. I couldn't find the Swordless Trace."
With those last words, the man collapsed, his head plunging into the pool of blood he had created.
As he closed his eyes, the days of his life flashed before him.
Growing up an orphan, learning to be ruthless to survive.
Meeting his master and becoming the sole disciple of a hidden lineage.
The battles with the demons of the Heavenly Mountains.
At the end of those battles, becoming sworn brothers with the Lord of the Heavenly Mountain Cult.
The woman he had loved.
The bloody fights against those who called themselves the Orthodox Faction, all for the sake of avenging that woman.
The result: killing everyone he wanted dead, and now, ending his life here today.
'Twenty years since I entered the martial world. It's been a good run…'
The moment the burning sensation from his wounds dulled and his heavy body felt light, the man sensed his death.
A hazy feeling and a light body.
An overwhelming drowsiness.
Entering eternal sleep, into a world of nothingness from which he would never awaken…
-Smack! Smack! Smack!
"This bastard, who the hell does he think he is, pretending to be unconscious?"
'Is it just my imagination?'
Just as he was about to enter eternal sleep, an unpleasant, stinging pain flared on his cheek, and the man felt a surge of irritation.
Just as he was about to surrender to the overwhelming sleep and enter that final rest, what the hell was this?
-Slap! Slap! Slap!
He tried once more to sink into that final slumber, but a burning pain erupted on both his cheeks, a throbbing that echoed in his skull. Unable to bear it, the man forced his heavy eyelids open.
"Did you think I'd just let you go if you pretended to be unconscious?"
A rugged face with a bushy beard and a large mole next to his nose.
A foul stench that assaulted the nose every time he opened his mouth.
And on top of that, a hand as large as a pot lid, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up.
"You're not the one who just slapped my face, are you?"
The large man stared incredulously at the young man who, upon opening his eyes, was speaking to him informally like a madman.
"Are you pretending to be crazy again?"
The moment the man's large palm was raised once more.
-Crack!
The man grabbed the fingers of the hand holding his collar and snapped them.
"Aargh!"
It was only his index and middle fingers, yet the large man was making a fuss. The young man kicked him squarely in the groin.
"Gah!"
The man stood up from the dirt floor where he had been lying and spoke.
"I'll ask again. Were you the one who slapped my face?"
The man placed his foot on the throat of the large man who had collapsed after the groin kick.
No matter how big the body, a human neck breaks easily.
As he gradually put his weight on it, a strange sound came from the large man's neck.
-Creek. Crack.
"W-wait a moment… Keuk!"
When the man eased the pressure slightly, the large man started talking.
"I-I just came to collect a debt…"
With an annoyed expression, the man swept back his hair that had fallen into his face.
It was a habitual action he performed before killing someone.
"I asked if you were the one who slapped my face."
Just as he was about to crush the large man's neck, someone came running, calling out to him.
"Y-Young Master!"
The man who ran over, dressed in shabby clothes, was horrified to see the young man with bright red cheeks standing with his foot on the large man's throat.
"A-are you alright?"
"Do you know me?"
"You're not well, why did you come outside…? Please, let's go back in."
The man pulled at the young man's arm.
The young man shook off his arm and spoke.
"Just after I kill this one."
As he said this and pressed down with his foot, the large man managed to speak.
"P-please, spare me!"
The man in shabby clothes also tried to stop him.
"You can't kill a member of the Bangho Gang!"
He didn't know why a member of the Bangho Gang was under the young master's foot, but if they gave those thugs a pretext, the already declining Yeomhwa Family could be wiped out.
With a look of regret, the young man looked down at the large man, then reluctantly followed the middle-aged man who was pulling him away.
"I was so worried. Where have you been all this time?"
"I don't remember."
"Again… Your sleepwalking must have acted up… If only you hadn't taken that Seven Injuries Fist to the head, you would have become a great man…"
Hearing him mutter to himself, the young man finally realized something was very wrong.
'I was hit in the head by a mere Seven Injuries Fist? I have no memory of that.'
"More importantly, who are you?"
A sigh was the answer to the young man's question.
"Haa. You've forgotten the faces of your family retainers again. This is getting serious as your symptoms worsen. Am I not Masok, who has been serving you for nineteen years, Young Master?"
"Masok? Retainers?"
He was an orphan. Besides his master, the only people he could call family were the woman he loved and his sworn brother from the Sun Moon Divine Cult.
He had walked a solitary path his entire life, without even friends, aside from those three. There was no way he could have retainers.
"You must be mistaken. I am Jeongcheon."
"What?"
Masok, who was leading Jeongcheon, stopped and asked in surprise.
"This… is a new symptom. You've forgotten yourself many times before, but you've never mistaken yourself for someone else… Besides, who is that? I've never even heard that name."
Hearing that he'd never heard the name, a vein popped on Jeongcheon's forehead.
"I have walked a solitary path, met and defeated countless enemies, and there was not a soul in the martial world who did not know my name. How can you not know of the Divine Demon, Jeongcheon?"
"D-D-D-Divine D—!!!"
Masok quickly covered his own mouth and glanced around.
Cold sweat trickled down Masok's back as he checked to see if any passersby had overheard.
He dragged the mentally unstable young man into a secluded alley and spoke.
"Young Master. Listen carefully. There isn't a soul in our village who doesn't know you are unwell, but if words like that ever reach the ears of the Nine Great Sects or anyone associated with them, you'll be in grave danger. Of all things, the D-Divine Demon… No. You must never speak such nonsense again!"
Jeongcheon, seeing that Masok finally seemed to recognize his name, smiled contentedly and opened his mouth.
"So. I am that… Mmph!"
Masok hurriedly clamped a hand over Jeongcheon's mouth.
"I told you, you can't! You can call yourself the emperor for all I care, but you must not utter that name, the name of a man who died thirty years ago!"
In that instant, Jeongcheon's eyes shook violently.
"Died? Who? Thirty years ago?!"
Jeongcheon knocked Masok's hand away and fired off his questions.
"Who else could it be? The… legendary demon who wiped out the elite masters of the Nine Great Sects and forced them to seal their gates for fifteen years. The fact that the elite masters, the pillars of the Orthodox Faction, shed their noble blood to finally kill him is something even a five-year-old in the neighborhood knows."
Jeongcheon stared at Masok with a grave expression.
Come to think of it, his last memory was of receiving countless fatal wounds and killing his final enemy before everything went dark.
No matter how he thought about it, those were not wounds one could recover from by simply closing and opening one's eyes.
'It certainly doesn't make sense, but…'
"Still, thirty years…"
"Young Master! Please… Our family's fortunes have already declined so much. You must come to your senses!"
Masok gripped his hand tightly, his eyes welling up, and his words were filled with an undeniable, heartfelt sincerity.
"Has it really been thirty years since then?"
His face, as he uttered the words with complex emotions, was filled with a sense of emptiness.
He had accepted death, closed his eyes, and woken up thirty years later.
"Young Master…"
Looking at the face of Masok, a man he'd never met but who showed genuine concern for him, Jeongcheon nodded.
His life was over anyway, and he had killed everyone he needed to kill.
A life lived without any lingering attachments or regrets.
"I understand. It was just a name my master gave to an orphan who didn't even know his own surname. It's not a name I'll miss. So, what is my name?"
"You use the name Hwa Mujin."
"Hwa Mujin, is it? With a surname, I suppose I'm not a commoner."
"A commoner! Your grandfather, Young Master, was once a master so great that even the Tang Clan in Sichuan acknowledged him!"
"A master of Sichuan? What was my grandfather's name?"
Seeing Mujin ask for his own grandfather's name, Masok felt his heart break.
Still, he explained it to him step by step.
Because he believed that one day, one day for sure, he would regain the brilliance of his youth.
"Young Master. Your grandfather's name was Ju-tae."
"Hwa Ju-tae? Ah! You mean the Flame Emperor."
"D-do you remember?"
Masok looked at Mujin, who remembered his grandfather's title, with a face full of hope.
"Yes. I've heard the rumors that even the notoriously ill-tempered Tang Clan of Sichuan yielded to him. I also heard he was killed in an ambush."
Mujin spoke of his own grandfather as if he were a stranger.
But Masok considered even this to be great progress.
"The mystic energy treatment you received recently must be working! That's right. That Flame Emperor is your grandfather, Young Master."
"Come to think of it, I heard a rumor that he had a half-wit son…"
"Y-Young Master! Y-you shouldn't say such things."
Mujin then realized that the half-wit son was the father of his current body.
"Ah, so that's how it is?"
He didn't know the details because he hadn't been interested, but he remembered hearing the son was born with severed meridians and couldn't learn martial arts.
He'd heard the Flame Emperor had tried everything to cure his son's severed meridians, but all his efforts had been in vain.
'I'm the son of a man like that? No. This body is?'