The night was suffocating.
Dark clouds swallowed the sky whole, leaving not even a single trace of moonlight behind. Thunder roared like an angry beast, and streaks of lightning tore through the heavens, illuminating the vast mountainous region for fleeting moments—only to plunge it back into darkness again.
With every flash, a horrifying scene revealed itself.
Blood.
So much blood that the earth itself seemed to have been dyed red.
The cold wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it the thick, metallic scent of death. It spread endlessly, seeping into every corner of the ruined land, as if announcing to the entire Murim world—
That a great sect had fallen.
The Blood Iron Sect… once a name that made countless warriors tremble… was no more.
Tonight, it had been completely annihilated.
Broken weapons lay scattered across the ground. Torn banners fluttered weakly in the wind, their symbols stained and unrecognizable. The once-mighty gates of the sect had collapsed, reduced to shattered wood and rubble.
And everywhere…
Corpses.
Disciples who once trained together… now lay lifeless, their eyes frozen in shock, anger, or despair.
Elders who stood at the peak of strength… now reduced to silent bodies, their authority meaningless in death.
Even the mountains themselves seemed to mourn.
And in the middle of that sea of blood—
A lone figure knelt.
Han Luo.
His body was covered in wounds—some shallow, some so deep that bone could almost be seen. Blood dripped slowly from his fingertips, staining the already soaked ground beneath him.
His clothes were torn beyond recognition, hanging loosely from his battered frame.
He should have looked broken.
Defeated.
Hopeless.
But he didn't.
Because his eyes—
Were burning.
Not with fear.
Not with despair.
But with something far more terrifying.
Hatred.
Endless, overwhelming hatred that seemed capable of devouring the entire world.
In front of him stood a group of figures dressed in black.
Their robes swayed gently in the wind, untouched by the chaos around them. Their expressions were calm, almost indifferent, as if the massacre before them was nothing more than a trivial matter.
The Black Serpent Sect.
The very ones responsible for this destruction.
One man stepped forward.
His movements were unhurried, confident—like a predator approaching its dying prey.
His sharp eyes locked onto Han Luo, cold and emotionless. A faint smile curved his lips, but there was no warmth in it. Only mockery.
"Han Luo…"
His voice was low, yet it carried clearly through the storm.
"Your sect… has been erased."
A pause.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
"Everyone you knew… everyone you trusted… is dead."
His smile widened slightly.
"And now…"
He tilted his head, looking down at Han Luo as if he were nothing more than dirt beneath his feet.
"You are alone."
Another step forward.
"And completely useless."
For a moment—
Silence.
Even the wind seemed to slow.
Then…
Han Luo moved.
Slowly… painfully… he raised his head.
His face was pale, stained with blood, yet his expression remained steady.
His eyes—
Were no longer human.
They glowed with a deep crimson hue, like burning embers in the dark.
"Useless…?"
His voice came out hoarse, yet steady.
A faint, chilling laugh escaped his lips.
"You call this… victory?"
He lifted his gaze, staring directly at the man.
"You people… betrayed us."
His fingers dug into the ground, nails cracking under the pressure.
"This wasn't a war…"
His voice dropped, filled with cold fury.
"This was a massacre."
The man in black chuckled softly, completely unfazed.
"In the Murim world…"
He spread his arms slightly, as if presenting the scene around them.
"There is no such thing as fairness."
Lightning flashed again, casting sharp shadows across his face.
"There is only one truth."
His eyes narrowed.
"The strong survive."
A beat of silence.
"And the weak…"
His smile turned cruel.
"Are meant to be destroyed."
⚔️ The Final Moment
Han Luo's breathing grew heavier.
His vision blurred, yet he forced himself to look around.
There—
His master.
Lying motionless, his once-powerful aura completely gone.
Not far away—
His fellow disciples.
People he had laughed with… trained with… dreamed with…
All gone.
Something inside him—
Broke.
"I swear…"
His voice trembled, but not with fear.
With rage.
"If I am given… one more chance…"
The air around him seemed to grow colder.
"I will kill every single one of you…"
His gaze sharpened, filled with killing intent so dense it felt almost tangible.
"One… by one."
For a second—
Even the wind stilled.
Then—
Laughter erupted.
Loud. Mocking. Cruel.
"You?"
One of them stepped forward, grinning.
"Take revenge on us?"
Another scoffed.
"You can't even stand."
The man in front raised his hand slightly.
"Enough."
The laughter stopped instantly.
Then—
A sharp sound cut through the air.
Clang!!!
A blade flashed.
Fast.
Too fast.
Before anyone could react—
Before even Han Luo could move—
The sword pierced straight through his chest.
Time seemed to freeze.
Blood burst into the air, scattering like crimson rain.
Han Luo's body trembled.
Then slowly—
He began to fall backward.
His strength faded with every passing second.
His breaths became shallow… broken…
Yet—
His eyes…
Were still burning.
"If… I…"
His lips moved weakly.
"Get… another chance…"
Darkness crept into his vision.
"Then I…"
A faint whisper escaped him.
"Will write… my own fate…"
And then—
Everything went black.
🌄 A New Dawn
"Haa—!"
Han Luo's eyes snapped open.
He gasped sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just escaped death itself.
Cold sweat covered his body.
For a moment, he couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't understand.
He was breathing.
Alive.
Slowly—
He looked around.
A small room.
Wooden walls.
A simple bed beneath him.
No blood.
No corpses.
No destruction.
Just silence.
Then—
A voice echoed from outside.
"All disciples, gather at the training ground immediately!"
Han Luo froze.
His pupils shrank.
"This… voice…"
He quickly looked at his hands.
Clean.
Uninjured.
No scars.
No blood.
Nothing.
His breathing became heavier.
"This is…"
He stood up abruptly, nearly losing his balance.
His heart pounded violently against his chest.
"This is the sect…"
The realization hit him like lightning.
"I…"
His voice trembled.
"…have returned."
Silence filled the room.
Then slowly—
His expression changed.
The confusion faded.
Replaced by something else.
Determination.
He clenched his fist tightly.
"I've come back…"
A deep breath.
His eyes hardened.
"To the past."
🔥 A New Resolve
"This time…"
His voice was calm.
Cold.
Unshakable.
"I will not repeat the same mistakes."
He stepped forward.
The weak, broken boy from before—
Was gone.
In his place stood someone new.
Someone who had witnessed destruction…
And survived it.
Fear no longer existed in his eyes.
Only one thing remained—
A burning will to change his fate.
No matter the cost.
Chapter 1 end. But
Chapter 2 coming soon.
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