Seo Chung-myeon, the most powerful figure in Sochang Castle and a proud noble of the Empire, was found dead.
No—he wasn't the only one. Every criminal organization and corrupt faction that had colluded with him simply vanished overnight, leaving not a trace behind.
For the corrupt officials who had been feeding off the people, it was an ominous warning. But for the suffering citizens, it was the first spark of hope in years.
And then the rumor spread—swift and unstoppable.
"The Blood Emperor has returned."
The name alone sent shivers across the continent. Fear and awe followed wherever that title was uttered.
Lee Seong-jun had originally planned to make his presence known through sheer force. That was, after all, the Blood Emperor's way—swift domination, iron will, unquestioned might. But the unexpected efficiency of Song Cheon-baek and his Blood Wind Sect changed everything.
Despite losing their influence under the new emperor, Yeon Seo-han, they proved their worth through intelligence and precision.
In just four days, the entire continent knew.
For a world without any modern means of communication, that speed was nearly supernatural.
Most would underestimate the spread of rumors, but Lee Seong-jun knew better. Information—especially fear—was power.
And nothing struck deeper than the words "The Blood Emperor has returned."
To the wicked, it was suffocation. To the righteous, it was liberation.
While nobles and governors hesitated—unsure whether to believe, deny, or run—the people waited in breathless anticipation.
Seong-jun's plan was simple. He wanted no rebellion, no unnecessary war. A fight would drag innocent lives into the crossfire, and he had no interest in killing those without the will to resist.
Instead, he wielded fear and hope as his twin blades.
"Hope," he mused, "is a force that gathers people faster than any army."
Soon, his predictions became reality. Corrupt officials fled or were executed by their own terrified men. Former Blood Empire loyalists emerged to reclaim authority, and warriors who once hid in exile began to gather in Sochang Castle.
All this in just ten days.
"The continent trembles," Seong-jun murmured as he gazed from the top of his mansion.
But he knew Yeon Seo-han well. The usurper emperor was too insecure to act with patience. His rule was born from betrayal—and betrayal could come again.
Thus, Yeon Seo-han would do the only thing left to him:
Erase the Blood Emperor completely.
Seong-jun's eyes opened sharply. "So, you've finally arrived."
From the north came the faint echo of footsteps—precise, disciplined, deadly.
A dozen masked figures approached under the moonlight. Every one of them radiated killing intent.
"Geumuiwi…" Seong-jun muttered, his lips curling into a faint smile.
The Emperor's personal guard—an elite force that answered only to the throne.
"So, it begins."
A deep voice cut through the night. "Are you the one they call the Blood Emperor?"
Lee Seong-jun stepped forward, eyes steady. "That's right."
The masked men's auras flared in response. The leader, a giant of a man, stepped ahead. "You didn't run, even after sensing our approach. I'll give you that much credit."
He tilted his head, his tone mocking. "I am Geuk Moon-yeok, Supreme Swordsman of the Golden Guard. You should kneel now. If you do, I might offer you mercy—perhaps even a place among us. Serve the Empire, and I'll grant you the rank of Samgeom."
Seong-jun's expression didn't even twitch.
Then, coldly: "Just hearing you talk makes me sick, you arrogant fool."
The air trembled.
"Treason?" he continued, his voice dropping low. "How can it be treason to reclaim what's rightfully mine?"
The Supreme Swordsman chuckled. "You've truly lost your mind. Do you really believe you are the Blood Emperor? You're nothing more than a ghost born of rumor."
"Heh," Seong-jun smirked, eyes glinting crimson. "Then come test that theory."
"Kuhuhu… by the authority of the Golden Guard," Geuk Moon-yeok declared, drawing his blade, "I hereby sentence you to death."
The masked assassins behind him surged forward, heading straight for Sochang Castle.
But Seong-jun didn't even glance their way.
"You think I came unprepared?"
The next moment, an explosion of crimson light erupted from the streets.
Figures cloaked in blood-red robes emerged from the shadows—Song Cheon-baek at their lead, the Blood Wind Sect moving like a storm unleashed.
Geuk Moon-yeok's subordinates halted, stunned.
Seong-jun folded his arms, standing behind his allies. "Remember what I told you," he said calmly. "Show them the strength of the Blood Wind."
It was not the same sect that once hid in fear. Over the past two weeks, they had trained under Lee Seong-jun's personal guidance, reinforced by warriors and knowledge from Earth.
Among them was Emilia, her mysterious "Secret Realm" ability accelerating everyone's growth beyond mortal limits.
Now, the Blood Wind Sect had become a sharpened blade once again—one that could stand against even the Emperor's elite.
As the two forces clashed under the red moonlight, Seong-jun's faint smile returned.
"At this level," he murmured, "you'll make a fine warm-up."