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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Regression

Chapter 1. Regression

I was hungry.

So, I swung my sword. After all, an orphan with nothing but his body had no other choice.

Fortunately, I had talent. Thanks to that, despite never having properly learned any martial arts, I reached the peak. That says it all.

I swung my sword frantically, cut down people, quenched my thirst with their blood money, and swung my sword again...

One day, in the midst of those repetitive days, I realized something.

I was no longer hungry. And people were now calling me a Sword Demon, fearing me.

I hadn't committed atrocities enough to be called a Demonic Lord. I had just seen too much blood—that was the problem.

I didn't show mercy at the tip of my sword, nor did I allow compassion, so it was only natural that the longer I survived, the more entangled grudges wrapped around me like a spider's web.

Standing in the middle of a blood-soaked path, I came to understand: the affairs of the world could not be resolved with a single sword.

Just when the moniker Sword Demon was about to spread further, the Demonic Sect rose to power.

They were always a group that frequently invaded the Central Plains, but they were never a real threat.

That was because the essence of the Demonic Sect lay in those who gathered to seek revenge after suffering injustices at the hands of martial artists.

Strictly speaking, they were a group of losers, lacking proper martial arts, money, and backing.

All they had was malice, a single-minded obsession to kill their enemies at any cost. Hence, they were always met with pity by orthodox factions and ridicule by unorthodox ones.

That was, until the one who called himself Heavenly Demon appeared.

He was like a natural disaster that scorched the entire Central Plains.

The nine great sects, boasting long histories, either fled from their bases or were annihilated on the spot.

The five great families, once so powerful they seemed able to pluck a bird from the sky, didn't even leave a single cornerstone behind.

The Black Alliance, a coalition of unorthodox warriors, fared no better. Once their leader, who was infamous for his abilities despite his disposition, was swiftly assassinated, the survivors either joined the Demonic Sect or fled to parts unknown.

One by one, supreme masters at the pinnacle of martial arts fell meaninglessly, and even when they banded together, they couldn't handle the Heavenly Demon.

He became the undisputed greatest of the past and present.

Even after the long-standing enmity between the orthodox and unorthodox factions was set aside in favor of unity, it was impossible to stop him.

And so, as I reached the twilight of an era where even the infamy I had earned through a lifetime of grudges faded into insignificance, where everyone was preoccupied with mere survival—

I met a woman in Hebei Province, at the end of my desperate flight for survival.

Tang Sowol, the Poison Dance Empress and the sole survivor of the Sichuan Tang Clan. Despite the difference in our origins—me being from an unorthodox background and her from an orthodox clan—we got along well.

Perhaps it was because no special catalyst was needed for a man born with nothing and a woman who had lost everything to draw close to each other.

But those relatively peaceful days came to an end when the Heavenly Demon destroyed even the imperial army and finally set foot in Hebei.

If we fled any further, the only places left would be Liaoning or the martial world beyond the borders. I was considering leaving the Central Plains entirely to escape the Heavenly Demon, but...

Tang Sowol chose to fight the Heavenly Demon.

"Are you really going to go?"

"To save me, many of my family members lost their lives."

"They were remarkable people. Even more so because they made a choice I never would have."

"'Double grace, tenfold vengeance.' Since that day, I have never once forgotten the Tang Clan's law. I couldn't forget it."

"What a shame. All those lives will have died in vain."

"But, Sword Demon, you can survive. You're planning to flee, aren't you? Don't worry. I'll buy you enough time."

"You knew, huh."

I let out a deep sigh and looked up at the sky. The cloudy night sky dimmed even the moonlight.

Tang Sowol stood beside me, looking down at the ground, as if she had committed some sin.

For a while, we gazed in silence at different places, but soon our eyes met.

Her once-black hair had turned completely white since the destruction of the Tang Clan. Her long bangs covered half of her face, and her green eyes, now dulled like her hair, were filled with fatigue and a sense of guilt.

"May I look at your face for a moment?"

"If it's you, as much as you want."

Tang Sowol quietly turned her face toward me. I gently brushed her bangs aside, revealing the scarred half of her face.

A hideous scar marred the beauty that had once been enough to be called unparalleled. She had told me that it happened when she exceeded her limits, using a deadly poison technique during her childhood in a life-threatening situation.

Though it was a scar she herself detested, it was never a reason for me to shy away from her.

I stared at her bare face for a long time—not just to remember it, but to etch it into my very soul.

When her face began to flush slightly, I made up my mind.

"I'll go with you."

"You mustn't."

"Why not? Is it because I'm not at the level of a Poison Dance Empress like you? Even though I'm only at the peak level, I'm confident I can be of some help."

"Sword Demon, there's no reason for you to risk your life. Didn't you always say it? That survival is what matters, that you wanted to live and enjoy wealth and glory."

"That's true. I still believe it's better to roll in the mud and live than die gloriously."

But words weren't the only things I had exchanged with Tang Sowol over time.

I was born as a worthless orphan and lived by relying on a single sword. At the end of that life, I had met a woman with whom I could share my heart. I could no longer live as I had before.

Tang Sowol, who had once again covered half of her face, cautiously held out her hand.

Tang Sowol flinched at first, but she didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she hesitantly held my hand in return.

Perhaps it was because she wasn't used to such things. Unable to look at her, I turned my head for no reason.

Feeling the cold night wind cool my heated skin, I opened my mouth to speak.

"The night is dark today. I was looking forward to a full moon tonight."

"It's a bit disappointing if you think of it as the last night sky we'll ever see."

"When a clear day comes again, we'll come back to see it. Together."

"Pardon?"

Tang Sowol tilted her head briefly, then smiled faintly as she understood my meaning.

"Did you know? Though all of the Tang Clan's buildings were burned and destroyed, and our famous pond has dried up, it's actually the perfect time to build new pavilions."

"What do you mean by that all of a sudden?"

"What else would I mean? I'm saying we should build a place to watch the moon together."

"You and me?"

"Yes. You and I."

The moment I understood what it meant to rebuild the fallen clan together, my mind went blank.

Tang Sowol giggled softly at my rigid expression, then gently pulled my hand.

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To my room. There are many things I want to tell you and many things I want to hear, but this isn't the right place."

"I see."

As if possessed, I followed Tang Sowol into her room.

That night, we spent all our time together. As if there would be no tomorrow, we shared the pasts we had lived before meeting and planned the future we would face together.

If this were a tale told by a street storyteller, we would have miraculously defeated the Heavenly Demon and found a happy ending.

But miracles did not happen.

Tang Sowol stood before the Heavenly Demon, prepared to burn her life to ashes for the sake of her clan's revenge and her future.

And the last flower of the Sichuan Tang Clan fell, her heart pierced, right before my eyes.

The swamp of poison engulfed the surroundings in a violet hue. At its center lay Tang Sowol, dying powerlessly. Her face was twisted in pain and unfulfilled vengeance, contorted into a fierce grimace.

But the moment our eyes met, a troubled smile bloomed on her face, as if to cover the venomous aura surrounding her. Then, her lips moved silently in a whisper.

"Live… please."

With those final words, Tang Sowol stretched out her poisoned hand toward the retreating Heavenly Demon.

The venom, so intense that it could dissolve even the body of a poison master who had reached the Flowering Stage (화경 – a supreme level of martial arts mastery), reacted violently as the purple swamp began to boil.

It was the final technique Tang Sowol unleashed by burning up her entire being—a poisonous mist (toxic fog) that dissolved anything it touched. The mist engulfed the Heavenly Demon.

Even the Heavenly Demon could not emerge unscathed—his skin began to char and burn. But—

Thud!

With a single powerful step forward, everything was scattered.

Tang Sowol's last desperate will, the mist formed by a lifetime of accumulating poison, and even her body—none of it remained. All of it was erased from this world without a trace.

"…Ah."

Tears, which I thought I no longer had any reason to shed, rolled down my cheeks.

Tears so hot they felt like they would burn my face. The faint scent of poison that lingered in the air. A roar closer to that of a beast than a man. And, as always, a single sword clenched in my hand.

A murderous intent so intense it seemed like it would engulf the entire world turned my vision red.

"I'll kill you!!"

Burning everything I had left—my inner strength, my lifespan, my sanity—I charged straight at the Heavenly Demon.

Yet, even so, I could not cut through the demonic energy of the Heavenly Demon's ultimate martial art.

I couldn't even pierce through the protective energy shield that always surrounded him. He gazed at me.

Those eyes, desolate to an extreme, seemed to stare into an abyss. And at that moment, I realized—neither I nor Tang Sowol had stirred any emotion in this man.

But what did that matter? I had already resolved that my life would end here today. I unleashed the last of my innate energy without reservation…

The Heavenly Demon, wearing a bored expression, flicked his hand.

Wooong!

A dark energy fell upon me from above. The sky, blackened by his power, seemed to collapse around me. I ground my teeth in frustration.

"Couldn't reach him, huh..."

If I had just a bit more talent, if I had a bit more time, if I had learned a more powerful martial art…

If that had been possible, would things have turned out differently? Could Tang Sowol have lived? Could I have slain the Heavenly Demon?

Futile regrets scattered into nothingness. That was my final thought.

It should have been.

"Kuheugh!"

I gasped for breath, groping at what should have been my severed head.

It felt like waking from a deep sleep, or perhaps like coming to my senses after a night of heavy drinking—my mind was in a haze.

Had I dreamed of my pre-regression life after a long time? No wonder I'd been restless in my sleep.

Yes. I didn't know how or why, but I hadn't died—I had returned to the past. To my childhood nearly 20 years ago.

I surveyed my surroundings with a foggy mind.

The dark, damp walls of a cave. A distinct stench that stung my nose. My body trembling uncontrollably. An empty dantian (단전, the energy center for martial arts).

Everything about my surroundings and my physical state was far from normal. As I grasped my situation, memories of the previous day began to resurface.

Having returned as an orphan struggling to survive day by day, I had worked hard in my second life.

Building on the enlightenment I had gained when I reached the peak in my first life, I quickly cultivated martial arts. I dismantled the black-market organization that had lured me into the unorthodox world, securing funds.

With the strength and wealth I gained in a short time, I poured everything into one goal: to find Tang Sowol, who had only just debuted in the martial world, and successfully capture her.

"Mm! Mmmph!"

I looked down at Tang Sowol, who was writhing at my feet.

Her body was bound tightly with thick ropes, prepared in case she managed to undo the pressure point technique I had used. A gag had been placed in her mouth to prevent her from committing suicide.

Yet, despite her situation, Tang Sowol glared at me with sharp, unyielding eyes.

"…I really did it, huh."

Though there had been no other way to save her, when I objectively considered what I had done—yeah.

I had kidnapped the youngest daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan.

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