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Prologue

The Heavenly Demon (천마) is dead.

And with that, the long and arduous Righteous-Demonic War (정마대전) has come to an end.

Years of hellish suffering ceased with the death of the Heavenly Demon.

Many rejoiced at the defeat of the Demonic Sect (마교), believing happiness was regained. Peace was finally restored.

However, what remained after the war was not merely the relief and tranquility of an ending.

Two of the Gu Paibang (구파일방) that supported the Righteous Martial World (정파 무림) burned to ash, and one of the Four Great Houses (사대 세가) collapsed.

Among the countless martial artists in the Central Plains (중원 무림), masters known as the Three Eminent Beings (삼존) fell under the blade of the Heavenly Demon.

Although defeating the Heavenly Demon succeeded in erasing the Demonic Sect from this land, it did not change the fact that the war was filled with losses.

So much was lost.

No one knew how long it would take to restore the scattered and broken remnants to their former glory.

Yet, even though much was burned away and turned to ash, despair was not all that remained.

Somewhere, hope would bloom, and heroes would gradually emerge to overcome the crisis and continue cooperation.

Simply put,

it had nothing to do with me.

“Where are you?”

A woman murmured in a small voice.

She stood in the torture chamber beneath the Martial Alliance (무림맹).

Her figure, particularly frail, and her fair, delicate skin stood out against the grim surroundings.

Despite her hair being a tangled mess from the repeated hardships, she managed to tie it back, giving her a somewhat disheveled appearance.

Yet, her features still possessed a regal beauty.

Even if the world rots and divides, she alone seemed destined to shine bright.

Who would have known?

That such a delicate and beautiful woman would sever the life of the calamity known as the Heavenly Demon.

No one could predict that a girl once referred to as a promising Late-Stage Talent (후기지수) would rise to become the greatest in the world.

Divine Sword (신검) Wi Seol-Ah.

The direct disciple of the Sword Sovereign (검존), slain by the Heavenly Demon, she was now called the Greatest in the World (천하제일인) following the Righteous-Demonic War.

The fact that a woman just entering adulthood held such a position was not merely due to the absence of the Three Eminent Beings in this era.

With a single strike, she could summon natural disasters and annihilate hundreds of demons.

After three days and nights of fierce battle with the Heavenly Demon, she erased him and the Heavenly Demonic Sect from the map.

It was known to all martial artists of her time that she had seized that arrogant title of “the Greatest in the World” solely through her own strength.

And she was speaking to me.

“…I asked where you are.”

Her gaze was fixed on the blood-soaked floor, remnants of the torture she endured.

Her white martial robe, which should have been unblemished, was now darkened with ash and dirt from whatever she had been through.

She seemed to expect a reply from me, yet with my broken voice, I could not respond.

Wi Seol-Ah must have known.

Despite this, my silence gnawed at her frustration.

“You must know, right? Where the remaining demons have gone.”

I knew.

Not only did I know, but I also wanted to share that knowledge.

“If you have any last shred of conscience….”

Wi Seol-Ah was waiting for me to convey what I could not speak, whether by writing or drawing it out.

As evidence, the shackles that had once bound me were already broken.

I felt a great risk in her randomly releasing the bonds of a sinner.

Yet, I could not dare inflict even a scratch upon her, the one who had slain the Heavenly Demon.

Still, even if it was what she wanted and my heart leaned in that direction, I could do nothing.

The shackles that bound me were of a different nature.

Thus, I simply stared vacantly at the floor, ignoring Wi Seol-Ah’s words.

-Crack

She had clenched my presence so tightly I could hear the roughness in her grip.

“This is your last chance; everyone desires your death, but if you help me this once, I’ll stake everything I have to spare your life.”

After the war ended, she was now hailed as the Greatest in the World.

“…So please.”

She pleaded earnestly.

Was it hatred for the lost demons? A thirst for revenge?

Surely there must’ve been some, but there was something more crucial.

‘It must be about Yuseong’s Sword (유성검).’

The relationship between the Sword Master (장선연) Jang Seonyeon and Wi Seol-Ah was famous in the Central Plains.

He was a promising sword master and heroic blade, and they were said to be engaged.

Now, however, Jang Seonyeon was missing, rumored to have been abducted by the demons.

Was that why she was so distressed?

The strongest woman feeling this anxious over just one man.

“So please, tell me. Where is he hiding?”

Wi Seol-Ah glared at me with fiery eyes.

In that moment, it felt strangely amusing.

It wasn’t always like this between us in the past.

It was hard to pinpoint when it first went wrong—a never-ending cycle—everything ultimately my karmic debt.

I found myself repulsive.

I had stabbed countless in the back and turned my back on my kin.

While she had been the hero who supported and uplifted everyone.

When my response faltered, Wi Seol-Ah seemed to give up and pushed me aside.

I collided with the rough stone wall but felt no pain.

My body had already decayed beyond repair.

“If I had known you would become such a disgusting human, I would have killed you the moment I first saw you.”

Regret overwhelmed me.

Her softly whispered words echoed loud in my ears.

At the moment of our first meeting,

would Wi Seol-Ah remember when she first saw me?

It would likely differ greatly from my own memories.

Perhaps it was a fleeting past she didn’t deem worthy of significance.

For her, it was a memory void of meaning.

To me, however, it was one of the greater regrets amidst my accumulated failures.

Amidst the even fragmentation of recollections, buried deep within lay memories of the past.

What was it about that memory that brought me this far?

-Creak

As Wi Seol-Ah attempted to leave through the barred door, she halted at the sound of my presence.

Her cold gaze wavered when she looked at me.

I had started writing something on the floor with the blood pooling from my own wounds.

With every word I wrote, my blood surged forth again.

The curse that hung over me was evident.

If I broke the conditions, my heart would burst and kill me—the Heavenly Demon’s demonic power.

The simple withering words of “do not betray the Demonic Sect” tied my life to this curse.

I had seen countless perish due to this.

Even the most trifling of martial artists stood no chance against the Heavenly Demon’s demonic power.

I thought that perhaps she, who had slain even the Heavenly Demon, could lift my curse, but now that had become irrelevant.

I simply felt curious.

With each line I wrote, I wondered if I were sustaining my heart due to mental fortitude or in some miraculous way.

Whichever it was, it was ultimately futile.

“What… are you doing…?”

As Wi Seol-Ah approached me, her voice echoed through the chaos, though it barely registered.

Ignoring her, I continued.

Judging by her inaction, perhaps she, too, wished for this.

If I claimed it was a false accusation— that I wasn’t acting under my own will— would she believe me?

Of course not.

There were numerous excuses to make, but at this point, emotions held no value.

Disregarding the throbbing in my chest that felt ready to burst, I painstakingly wrote one line after another.

With each stroke, blood streamed down my chin.

Wi Seol-Ah must have sensed something unusual, reaching out to me.

However, I was quicker.

As I penned the final line, my heart finally burst.

On the ground lay the very information she sought about the demons’ haven and precious little else.

Supporting me as I staggered, Wi Seol-Ah held me in her arms.

Her panic likely arose from my shabby script that she didn’t want to tarnish.

She gazed at me, eyes wide in disbelief. My body grew colder and consciousness slipped away mere moments afterward.

It was truly a disastrous mess.

Why had I lived this life?

Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered. It was always meant to be this way.

Gu Yangcheong of the Mount Shan Clan (산서구가).

Born into a righteous family, lived as a righteous fighter, and ultimately turned into a demon.

Captured and tortured after the Demonic Sect’s defeat in the Righteous-Demonic War, leading to my death.

A few lines sum up my life adequately.

A truly unremarkable life.

That unremarkable life was now at an end.

“Would you like a rice cake?”

“Uh?”

That was how it should have been.

EP.1 The Young Master of the Gu Clan (1)

The Young Master of the Gu Clan. 1

What is happening? This… what should I even think of this situation?

I found myself right in the middle of a bustling marketplace.

I slowly raised my head to gaze at the sky.

With not a single cloud in sight, the sun was glaring down, causing me to squint reflexively.

After so long, the sun seemed blindingly bright against the busy throng and many food stalls around me.

Somewhere, steam billowed as dumplings were cooked, filling the air with a delicious aroma.

Vendors shouted their wares, and the delighted chatter of passersby mixed into a symphony of noise.

This marketplace reminded me of the one from my childhood, where I used to live long ago. How long had it been since I saw such a vibrant market? It had to be nearly ten years since I had witnessed such a sight.

‘Is this a dream?’

I was certain I had died from my heart bursting.

Then what was this situation? A fleeting vision after death? Had I unknowingly yearned for this peaceful past?

Perhaps due to a life of insignificance, I longed for even the most mundane things.

“How amusing.”

The words slipped out unexpectedly. I was taken aback; I could actually speak. After my injuries, I hadn’t spoken a word.

But it wasn’t just that I was surprised.

My voice was thin and high-pitched, resembling that of a young boy. It was only then I noticed my hands, smooth and unmarked.

They looked far too small for an adult man’s hands.

My perspective also felt strangely lower. I was undoubtedly in a child’s body.

“Is this a memory from my childhood?”

If so, when was this? I could hardly remember a time when I roamed freely in the marketplace like this.

As I scanned the area, I caught sight of a young man nervously watching his surroundings.

If my memory served me correctly, he was my guard.

And this was the way I first met that boy—sneaking out, wandering carelessly in the marketplace until we bumped into each other.

Back then, a kid like me had been immensely eager to befriend someone his age.

He had cheerfully approached me, offering a box filled with steaming potatoes.

“Would you like a potato?”

Just like now.

“Uh?”

Before I realized it, someone was speaking to me. It was disconcerting that everything was so perfectly replicated.

What did I respond back then?

‘How dare you offer this to me, knowing who I am!’

That was likely my response or perhaps I had said something worse. I was so stuck up that I must have found his shabby clothes unworthy or the potato undesirable.

In truth, I was simply childish and arrogant. No excuses needed.

If I had known who that boy would grow into, perhaps I wouldn’t have reacted like that.

In all honesty, I couldn’t be sure. I had been crazy and immature back then.

“Umm… I… don’t like potatoes?”

The boy looked hesitant, glancing at me as if seeking a cue.

His clothes were covered in dust, having been dragged around who knows where.

Moreover, his unkempt hair obscured his face, making him look like a street urchin.

Seeing him made me chuckle.

“…I suppose this is a reminder of the lingering attachments I had.”

“Hmm?”

The boy stared at me, confused by my solitary thought.

Could this fantasy free me from my regrets?

‘That can’t be right.’

Yet, I pulled out a potato from his box. Upon seeing my action, the boy broke into a bright smile.

One of his front teeth was missing, leaving a gaping hole where his tooth should’ve been.

I smiled back at his joy.

“Thank you, I’ll enjoy it.”

The words I spoke were not the same as those I used back then.

“Yay…! My Gramps grew, grew that!”

He exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious as he plopped a potato into his mouth.

I followed suit, biting into the potato.

But it was steaming hot, and I find myself struggling with the peculiar sensation.

‘Is it really hot in a dream?’

Was that possible? Or was this dream simply too realistic?

As I was torn between thoughts of confusion and discomfort, the boy laughed brightly.

“Haha! Your face is all red!”

He seemed to find my struggle amusing, laughing heartily. In contrast, he ate the potato effortlessly as if it didn’t bother him at all.

After a struggle, I managed to swallow the entire potato, albeit with difficulty.

“Delicious, right?”

“Uh… it’s good.”

That wasn’t a lie. The potato was certainly delicious.

I didn’t understand how I could taste food in a dream, yet astonishingly, it was flavorful.

As I focused on the potato in my hand, I noticed the young man who looked like my guard approaching.

“Young Master…?”

He frowned at the sight of the boy in front of me, instinctively placing his left hand on his sword hilt.

“Who do you think you are…?”

“Do you have any rice cakes?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have any rice cakes?”

I interrupted, my curiosity overcoming all else.

Surprisingly, he did.

With an incredulous look, the guard retrieved a rice cake wrapped from within his robes and presented it to me.

“Would you like this?”

I offered the rice cake I received to the boy.

Though his hair obscured his expression, I could tell he was astonished.

“R-Really? Is it for me!?”

“I can only give you this for the delicious potatoes you shared.”

During my childhood, I had been used to being spoiled and indulged in sweet treats.

Consequently, every time my guard scolded me, he would give me a rice cake to make me behave.

Being a guard often meant carrying rice cakes around… how pathetic it seems now.

‘Looking back, I feel terribly guilty about that.’

Unaware of my thoughts, the boy accepted the rice cake and began jumping up and down in joy.

With every jump, I grew anxious for the potatoes clutched in his arms.

“Thank you! I’ve never tasted anything like this before!”

“Really? Do you have any more?”

“…That was the last one.”

I eagerly asked but felt a pang of disappointment.

Curiously enough, the young guard was staring at me with a bewildered expression.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.”

The boy had set the box down and took a bite of the rice cake, enjoying it immensely.

With each bite, his shoulder bobbed and shook with delight.

“You’re really delicious…!”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could give you more but that was indeed the last one.”

He shook his head furiously, as if to indicate it was okay.

Seen through an adult’s eyes, a sizable potato vanished within seconds in his tiny mouth.

I must have felt bad for him since tears glimmered in his eyes as he nibbled on what he now held.

“I’ve never tasted anything like this…”

“I’m glad to hear it’s good.”

He resumed eating potatoes, now with a more muted expression, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had developed a sweet tooth over time.

The boy fidgeted for a moment before asking.

“Thank you! What’s your name?”

Unlike when he offered the potato, he seemed shy this time.

Was it more embarrassing to ask a name than to offer food?

“Gu Yangcheong, my name is Gu Yangcheong.”

I clearly stated my name. It had been a long while since I spoke it aloud.

“Gu Yangcheong…”

The boy smiled shyly upon hearing my name. He opened his mouth, attempting to say something but—

An old man suddenly burst through the crowd, wrapping the boy in his arms.

“Wi Ah!”

“Ah, Gramps!”

“It’s dangerous to wander off carelessly!”

While the boy might have been startled, he burrowed into the old man’s embrace and smiled brightly.

“You don’t have to worry! I held on to my potatoes!”

He beamed proudly, showcasing the steaming potatoes in his arms to the old man.

The still-warm potatoes were one thing, but the old man gazed at me with a strange mixture of apprehension and suspicion.

Was it the old man’s finely-made attire that seemed out of place with the surroundings that alerted him to me?

“Forgive me, esteemed sir. My granddaughter is naïve and unwary… I hope she hasn’t troubled you in any way…”

I knew all too well that the elderly man’s shabby appearance and the forlorn expression he cast upon his young charge were mere acts.

That old man was someone with enough power to challenge even the current leader of the Martial Alliance (무림맹) without any caution, a being greater than I could measure.

“Not at all, Elder. I was just feeling a bit hungry, and she generously shared the delicious potatoes with me.”

Perhaps it was my eloquent language; the old man looked surprised.

Had I spoken too much? But why should I care? After all, it was just a dream.

“I could only repay her with this little rice cake… so I apologize for its insignificance.”

As I spoke, I performed a respectful bow using the Pogo (포권) posture.

Yet the old man remained silent, staring at me with serious eyes.

Did I somehow offend him?

A brief silence lingered with tension between us in the bustling crowd.

It was the guard who finally broke the stillness.

“…Young Master, it’s time to return.”

While the guard’s tone was calm, confusion flickered in his eyes.

Hearing this, I slowly gathered myself.

“Already?”

“Indeed, if we delay any longer, we might miss the sunset.”

“I see, then we should head back.”

Turning back to the old man, I found him wearing that same absent-minded expression he had earlier.

“Elder, I must take my leave now.”

I prepared to excuse myself. Words escaped the man’s mouth, but they were overtaken by the boy’s voice.

“Are you leaving already…?”

The child looked up at me with disappointment from the old man’s embrace, yet that was as far as I would go.

The sad and distorted memories I sought to embellish, along with tales I had long regretted, ended here.

‘It’s time to wake from this dream.’

This was enough.

If I were to question what had changed, I’d say nothing. If I were to ask if I felt any relief, I’d say it hadn’t changed at all.

Yet it must all conclude here.

I concealed my true emotions, smiling at the boy.

“If we have a chance again someday, let’s meet. The potatoes were indeed delicious.”

As I waved lightly, the boy beamed widely and spread his arms in response.

The old man kept bowing profusely, repeating apologies. Familiar with who he was, I found it quite unsettling.

Continuing to apologize, the old man picked up the boy and melted into the bustling crowd.

“…That was nerve-wracking.”

The old man’s name was Wi Hyogun.

In a long and storied history of the Martial World, he had unified the Demonic Factions (사파) for the first time, piercing the heart of the Black Dragon Sword (흑룡검) while striving to engulf Sichuan (사천).

He had been a figure of both fear and respect among the Demonic Faction until he vanished from the position of leader of the Martial Alliance just a decade prior.

How had he come to be here, appearing as such a shabby old man raising a child? I could not fathom.

In truth, no one would suspect that such a ragged old man was indeed one of the Three Eminent Beings.

I gazed at the spot where the old man had vanished for quite a while before turning back at the urging of my guard.

The issue wasn’t whether or not he was a Sword Sovereign (검존).

What mattered was that the girl, who had been waving at me tightly gripping her potatoes, constantly flickered in my mind.

Her bright smile as she offered me a potato, and her innocent happiness at receiving a rice cake, were entirely different from the icy gaze that had cut down the Heavenly Demon.

Divine Sword Wi Seol-Ah.

That girl was her.

Moments ago marked our first encounter in years.

Of course, my memories painted a far different picture than what was unfolding now.

In the past, I would have hurled insults and discarded the potato without a thought.

I had only laughed derisively at the tears streaming down young Wi Seol-Ah’s face as she cried.

I had been cruel and heartless, offering little excuse.

“…I should take my leave now.”

What phantom was it that gnawed at me until death?

The expression I wore was one of complete satisfaction, an emotion born of self-righteousness.

I could not be entirely sure, but that was how it must have been.

“Indeed, you should return.”

As I heard the guard’s affirmation, a bitter smile appeared on my lips. Did he interpret my words as wanting to return home?

I could barely remember where home even was.

‘Wouldn’t it be time to wake up already?’

Wasn’t I supposed to have completed everything? Was this dream not meant to end? It felt as though it stretched on indefinitely.

“Your Grace? You shouldn’t go that way.”

Distracted by my fuzzy memories, I often found myself wandering down the wrong paths.

Each time, my guard redirected me toward home.

‘No idea where I’m going. This should end soon.’

By now, I felt wholly prepared, even resentful toward this unending scenario that refused to conclude.

Alas, I cast myself into a state of surrender, resigning to let things flow as they may. I had assumed that it would wrap up shortly.

After several days had passed, a realization suddenly struck me.

“…Damn, why hasn’t this ended yet?”

I discovered the unsettling truth that what I was experiencing was not just a dream.

 

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