Wuchang, in Hubei Province, along the middle reaches of the Yangtze River.
The great battle between the Central Plains Orthodox-Unorthodox Alliance and the Blood Sand Wind of the Great Desert — who had united the frontier forces — had begun at Snake Mountain and now raced toward its end as it reached Phoenix Mountain to the north.
A young monk with a closely shaven head, draped in black monastic robes.
He quietly opened his eyes amidst a sprawling heap of corpses.
"Are they all...... dead?"
Tens of thousands of corpses lay heaped like mountains, making it impossible to distinguish friend from foe.
A self-mocking smile lingered at the corners of the young man's lips.
There was not a single unscathed spot on his body.
His legs were completely twisted, and one arm was half-severed, dangling by threads of flesh.
Is this how the great battle between the Central Plains Orthodox-Unorthodox Alliance and the Blood Sand Wind of the Great Desert ends — in mutual destruction?
'No.'
His eyes, soaked in blood from burst vessels, turned toward the summit.
He already knew that two people had survived up there.
The aftershocks of their clash were still vivid, after all.
CREAK—
The black-clad monk gripped his blade with his remaining arm and hauled himself upright.
Life's energy drained from his staggering body, which looked ready to topple at any moment.
Like a geyser, blood spurted rhythmically from the holes riddling his entire body.
At some point, his mangled lips twisted into an ugly grimace.
The sporadic battle cries and the clashing ring of weapons had vanished.
Before he knew it, only the sound of cold wind filled the silence.
Just then.
A blue-clad figure tumbled down from the summit, rolling like a fallen leaf.
THUD—! CRASH—!
His body, rolling as ungainly as a rotten log, came to a stop right at the black-clad monk's feet — as if by appointment.
"Emperor Sword...... Namgung Hyeon."
Wild, tangled hair. Blue robes shredded to rags.
His blood-drenched body had a gaping hole through the chest.
Namgung Hyeon — the Alliance Lord of the Central Plains Orthodox-Unorthodox Alliance, born of an unprecedented orthodox-unorthodox cooperation to stand against the great calamity the Blood Sand Wind had unleashed upon the Central Plains — now stood at death's door.
"Hah...... Hell Reaper Hyeol-u, you're the last hope......"
Hell Reaper Hyeol-u — known as the strongest of the Unorthodox Faction.
He was none other than the black-clad monk before him.
"No. I'm sorry, but I'll be joining you soon."
"No, even if you're going to die...... you have to keep your promise......"
"What can I do in this state?"
The night before, when they had met and shared drinks — the memory flashed before Hyeol-u's eyes like a revolving lantern.
'We sure drank a lot.'
A bitter smile crossed Hyeol-u's lips.
At first, they had discussed the state of the martial world and traded opinions on various figures.
Once the drunkenness set in, they had even broached deeply personal matters.
Orthodox and unorthodox were supposed to be irreconcilable enemies, like dogs and monkeys, unable to coexist under the same sky — yet the two of them had felt none of that the night before.
No — in truth, they had tried their best to forget it.
After three years of bloody war waged against the Blood Sand Wind across the entire Central Plains, the final decisive battle was at last upon them.
"Killing and being killed...... that was the daily routine for us martial brothers. And our master just stood by and watched, as if it were someone else's affair."
"Haha, I see. One could say that simply surviving is a triumph of the human spirit."
"A triumph of the human spirit? No...... not humans — vermin. We never triumphed. We were just vermin, biting and clawing at each other, bleeding without even knowing we were dying. That was our life."
As expected, drinking always loosened the tongue.
"Do you regret it?"
"No. I simply had no choice. Living each day as though walking on thin ice — it was oddly exhilarating, to tell the truth. Heh...... After killing people so often, there came a point where I couldn't sleep unless I'd killed someone that day. Eventually, people stopped looking like people at all — they just looked like vermin. You wouldn't understand, Alliance Lord."
"No. If I were in your position, I might have been the same. There is no need to belittle yourself. No matter how one lives, it is all the same life. What hierarchy could there possibly be in the way people live?"
For a moment, a surge of emotion welled up inside Hyeol-u.
'They say a man's true nature comes out when he's drunk — and that is the heaven of the righteous path, Namgung Hyeon?'
He quickly changed the subject.
He could not bear to show such soft, vulnerable tears in front of that man.
"And you, Alliance Lord — you've sailed through life without a worry in the world, haven't you?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Because that's how it looks."
"No, absolutely not. Living is nothing but an endless chain of regrets. Even if others see a comfortable life, everyone carries their own private agonies. The kind of suffering that rots your heart in solitude, the kind that makes you want to die. Do you really think I am exempt from such pain?"
He spoke as though lamenting, but—
In truth, Hyeol-u found Namgung Hyeon's family deeply enviable.
Family members caring for one another, and the bond between siblings so deep.
By contrast, his own sect — Black Dragon Temple, hegemon of the Unorthodox Faction — was an entirely different world.
A world governed by the ruthless logic of the strong devouring the weak.
Kill or be killed.
Even in sleep, one eye always had to stay open.
There was no telling when a martial brother's blade would find your throat.
CLASP—
Namgung Hyeon seized Hyeol-u's hand and peered deeply into his eyes.
"Tomorrow — no, it's already today. My gut tells me I'm going to die in today's battle. So, listen......"
"What on earth are you talking about? You haven't even had that many cups and you've already lost your mind?"
Hyeol-u waved him off, but Namgung Hyeon refused to let go of his hand.
"No, hear me out. Let us make a pact. If I die first in this battle, you grant my dying wish. What say you?"
"Anyone who heard this would think you've gone mad."
That was how absurd Namgung Hyeon's proposal was.
Proposing such a pact to Hell Reaper Hyeol-u — the martial world's most terrible butcher.
And yet, Hyeol-u laughed.
Perhaps this too was like a drinking wager — a new diversion that might be called 'a pact of death.'
It was actually intriguing.
"A wish? You're asking empty-handed?"
"Ha, as if I would!"
Riding the wave of his own drunkenness, Hyeol-u agreed with a hearty laugh.
The price for granting the wish was no small thing, after all.
"Protect the Namgung Clan."
But he had not imagined just how difficult a task that would be.
***
Hyeol-u snapped out of the memory that had briefly surfaced.
From the summit, a figure wreathed in red flames — like a great kite — was swooping down upon him.
'The supreme one of the Blood Sand Wind — Phantom Heavenly Demon Jwa In-geol!'
Namgung Hyeon's face, drained of all vitality, had shriveled and dried like a wooden puppet's.
A dark shadow fell over that face.
"Heh, heh heh heh......"
Hyeol-u's eyes grew hazy and damp as he chuckled with a grumble.
The head of the Namgung Clan, Emperor Sword Namgung Hyeon.
His body went limp in Hyeol-u's arm.
At that moment.
"Wretched little monk! Go to hell!"
CRASH—! RUMBLE—!
Sparks burst from the trident raised high by the Phantom Heavenly Demon, flickering and falling—
Then a red tide, like molten lava, flooded heaven and earth in an instant.
The final technique of the Heaven-Shattering Asura Palm — Void!
"Is this...... the end?"
To counter 'Void,' there was only one option.
The final technique among the five forms of the Heaven-Earth Spanning Blade — Heaven-Earth 'Annihilation.'
But far from achieving mastery, he had barely reached the five-star level.
'What a shame. If only I'd mastered the Wish-Fulfilling Heart Art...... And whatever the outcome — if this is the best I can do.'
CRUNCH—
Blood burst from Hyeol-u's bitten lips.
He laid Namgung Hyeon's body down and closed his eyes.
It felt as though time itself had slowed to a crawl.
'Yeah, there's no rush. I've always lived in a hurry, so at least in the moment of death, let's take it easy.'
A small smile settled on his lips, tinged with resignation.
From his primal true qi to the latent power dwelling in every last fiber of his being.
Hyeol-u gathered every final drop of true qi and raised the Heaven-Earth Spanning Blade high.
In that moment, time stopped.
WHOOOOSH—
Blade qi, dark as black smoke, instantly enveloped the blade and began swirling like a whirlwind.
The energy grew and grew until it billowed upward like thunderclouds, and then—
"Heaven-Earth Annihilation!"
Hyeol-u's Heaven-Earth Spanning Blade soared, cleaving through the surging red tide.
Moments later.
CAWWW—
A flock of crows flickered across Hyeol-u's frozen pupils, wide open and rigid.
The records that historians of later generations would name the 'Great Phoenix Mountain Bloodbath' ended here.
***
CRASH—! CLATTER—!
The topmost window of a three-story pavilion shattered, and a figure plummeted downward.
"KYAAAH!"
A woman's shrill scream pierced the stillness of the night.
Moments later.
Several men were whispering among themselves beside the person who lay crumpled on the ground.
"Damn it, we're not going to end up as murderers over this, are we?"
Someone blurted in a drunken voice.
"H-he's dead......"
"Let's scram!"
The moment those words left his mouth, the sound of frantic footsteps followed as several of them bolted.
'What...... the hell is all that noise......?'
He was struggling to regain consciousness through a haze of confusion when—
"Bwaaah! Young Master! You can't die!"
'Ugh, what the hell is this now?'
Some fool was bawling while crushing his chest with both hands.
The pressure was so strong it felt like his ribs would shatter.
"Urgh, stop pressing!"
It was a miracle those words managed to escape his lips at all.
"Huh?! Young Master! You're alive?!"
'Young Master' this, 'Young Master' that — who on earth was this?
"Get off me......"
Hyeol-u sprang to his feet and immediately examined his body.
But something was wrong.
'Hm......? This can't be right.'
His clothes should have been soaked in blood, yet they were perfectly fine.
"A body without a single drop of blood spilled...... urk?!"
He involuntarily clamped a hand over his nose.
'Foul.'
Instead of the stench of blood that had drenched his body, there was a wretched reek of alcohol — as if he had fallen into a rotting barrel of liquor and crawled back out.
And who the hell was this fellow, squatting there and glaring at him with those bulging eyes?
And where on earth was this?
From what he could see, it looked like an alley formed between several pavilions with their walls pressed together.
'Why am I here? I definitely had my head cut off by the Phantom Heavenly Demon of the Blood Sand Wind on Phoenix Mountain......?!'
Jolted by the gruesome memory, Hyeol-u frantically felt his neck — but it was smooth, without a single scar.
'No, this can't be......'
WHOOSH—
Hair fluttering in a gentle breeze gave him a small breath of relief, when—
'W-wait? I have hair!'
Touching his head, he could only stand there dumbfounded.
He had always shaved his head clean with a razor the moment his hair grew even as much as a baby hedgehog's fuzz.
'What is this now?'
Not only was there a full head of hair, but his fingertips even touched a topknot — and goosebumps erupted all over his body.
Setting that aside — had he gotten so drunk he had taken a terrible fall? Why had he been lying on the ground?
And why his entire body ached as though it had been smashed to pieces — he had no way of knowing.
"Nngh......"
Barely managing to pull himself up, Hyeol-u rotated his arms and legs this way and that and twisted his neck.
Fortunately, his aching hands and legs bore only minor scrapes, and the bones seemed intact.
However.
SQUISH—
His body was indeed unbroken — but his hands found nothing but pudgy, doughy flesh.
When he raised his hands, there were no calluses, and the dark scars that had covered them like tattoos were also gone.
Only small, fresh-looking scabs remained.
'Ha, this definitely isn't my body.'
Only then did Hyeol-u turn to face the burly, shaggy-haired young man who had been staring at him blankly.
A young fellow of about twenty.
"You...... did you just call me 'Young Master'?"
"Huh? Yeah. What else would I call the Young Master but 'Young Master'?"
The fellow answered with a sulky pout.
His round, thuggish face was covered in pockmarks and pimples, giving him a somewhat dimwitted look.
"Who are you, and where is this?"
"Huh? Y-you don't know me? Did you hit your head when you fell from the pavilion? No wait, you're still not sober, right?"
"Bastard, I'm asking who you are!"
"Eek!"
When Hyeol-u raised his hand sharply, the fellow finally shrank his head down like a turtle and froze with terrified eyes.
"I thought something was off about your eyes...... do you really not remember anything? Oh man, what do we do...... how many is this?"
The fellow held up three fingers and waved them in front of Hyeol-u's face.
Irritation surged through him instantly.
"Three, three! Don't make me say it again. I'm about to lose my mind here."
The fellow heaved a deep sigh and spoke.
"Man, I'm going crazy too, you know......? I'm So-i, a servant of the Namgung Clan, and this is Hefei. To be exact, the alley below the Great Prosperity Pavilion in the Blue-Red Quarter."
"What? Th-then who am I?"
"Good grief. The young master of the Namgung Clan, Namgung Seong......"
He said 'young master of the Namgung Clan,' but there was something uncomfortable lingering at the end of his words.
"Is that all?"
"To be more precise, you're the...... the illegitimate son. Born to a handmaiden of the late clan head, Namgung Hyeon......"
"What the hell......"