December 31.
The last day of the year.
"Whew, we finally made it."
We barely arrived at our destination as the sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon.
Still, at least we got here before night fell.
I looked up at the main house bathed in the glow of the setting sun.
Cheongsin Academy (靑申山家).
Anyone visiting this place for the first time would naturally harbor great expectations.
After all, it was the residence of Ironblood Lee Gangjin, and the main house of one of the most prestigious families recognized throughout the kingdom.
Because of that, actually seeing it often led to disappointment.
From the outside, the main house was almost painfully plain—hardly what one would imagine for a noble family.
But the moment you stepped inside, your impression would change once again.
Hidden beneath that simplicity was an overwhelming sense of grandeur born purely from its sheer scale.
The mansion, formed by carving and reinforcing an entire mountain, was so vast it could easily be mistaken for a village.
'Calling it a mansion is a stretch, honestly.'
It was a place built not primarily for living, but for systematic training.
In other words, Cheongsin Sanga was better described as an academy—one established to train not only the family's children, but also selected talents from across the nation in martial arts, raising them into warriors.
That was the Cheongsin Academy (靑申學館).
It was exactly the kind of thing my grandfather would do—the man who always claimed that overwhelming martial might was everything.
'Entering Cheongsin Academy used to be my dream…'
To enroll, you had to pass a high-level exam appropriate for your age.
There were no exceptions, even for members of the Cheongsin family, which meant that in my previous life, I never stood a chance.
And the same would be true in this life as well.
'Because getting into Seongmu Academy matters more.'
I wanted to enter at least once, but I'd have to give it up again.
"Relax. It's still just a place where people live."
"You look more nervous than I do, Father."
"Me? Not at all. I'm not nervous at all. Ahem."
Clearing his throat was a habit that only appeared when he was nervous.
"Let's go in."
With a different kind of excitement pounding in my chest, I headed toward the main house.
As we entered the mountain estate, a servant who had been waiting came forward and guided us to the guest quarters.
The fact that all the guest rooms were filled for the New Year spoke volumes about Cheongsin's standing.
'He was the commander of the royal guard.'
Strictly speaking, the former commander.
Even so, as a longtime companion of the aging king who had stayed by his side for forty years, he still wielded influence that the political world couldn't ignore.
"This way."
The servant bowed and spoke.
"I apologize. There weren't many rooms left, so we had no choice but to assign a room unbefitting of young master."
"It's fine. The two of us will be using it, so it's more than enough."
"I'm very sorry."
My father spoke with a bitter smile.
"There are many guests, so it can't be helped. As the hosts, we're the ones who must yield. Go attend to your duties."
"Thank you for your understanding."
The servant vanished as if fleeing. I looked around the room and said,
"It really is small enough that they should feel sorry."
Strictly speaking, this wasn't even a guest room.
It was more accurate to call it a servant's room.
'Treating the current head's son this poorly…'
Normally, someone would have been reprimanded on the spot.
But what fault did the servant have?
Someone else's influence had clearly played a role in assigning this room.
"At this size, I guess I'll have to sleep hugging you, Dad."
"Then shall we feel some father-son affection after so long?"
"Ugh, gross. Still, once I get a bit older, it'll be hard to even see each other's faces, so we should sleep together while we can."
"At your age, you say things like that?"
"I'm just trying to think positively. Positively."
I smiled faintly, and my father nodded as if reassured.
If this were before my regression, I would have thrown a tantrum over this room. But after living 180 years, shouldn't one mature?
They say men never grow up until they die—but I'd already died once.
More than anything, this room assignment wasn't about compromise; it was mockery. If I complained too, my father would only shrink further.
'Probably the eldest uncle or the younger uncle.'
Judging by personality, it was more likely the younger one.
'How annoying.'
My father quietly unpacked, but something weighed heavily on my chest.
After living so long, I could easily ignore insults and ridicule directed at me—but when my father was involved, I couldn't let it slide.
'Right. I used to say people who insult parents deserve to be beaten to death.'
Words I'd coined myself.
"Once we've changed, let's go pay our respects."
"Yes."
After changing clothes, we stepped outside.
At that moment, a long-forgotten voice reached us.
"It's been a while, big brother."
They say the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime.
Really, you couldn't ignore even a single line written in books.
The voice belonged to my younger uncle.
Lee Gyeongwon.
He approached with a greasy smile.
"Seoha, have you been well?"
"Greetings, Uncle."
My younger uncle, Lee Gyeongwon, was one year younger than my father.
Dark skin and a large build.
He took after my grandfather, unlike my father, who resembled my grandmother, so even their presence felt different.
Standing beside him was my sworn enemy of a cousin, Lee Junha.
Dark-skinned and a head taller than his peers.
The moment he saw me, he grinned just like his father.
As if promising trouble.
"The room is small, isn't it? Please understand. There are many important guests staying here."
"Yes, I see. It's fine. We're only staying for one day anyway."
"Yes, you must understand."
My younger uncle—no, Lee Gyeongwon—was even more irritating than I remembered.
Important guests?
That was just a roundabout way of saying we weren't important guests.
I wanted to snap back immediately, but I held myself back.
At this banquet, I planned to gain my grandfather's favor as much as possible.
Only then could I receive the support I needed for my future plans.
So it was best not to cause trouble.
I'd wait quietly.
The right moment to use this situation would come.
It always did.
Then Lee Junha, who had been standing beside him, spoke up.
"It's been a while, Lee Seoha."
If this were before my regression, I would've trembled at that greeting.
But the fragile me from back then no longer existed.
"Yeah. Good to see you."
"Oh? You've changed a bit? I heard you advanced to the military course—did your shoulders get a bit stiff with pride?"
"I trained hard. See these muscles? Come to think of it, you must've trained hard too. Looks like you've built up some muscle on your belly."
Junha had a complex about his weight.
He'd never been popular growing up and believed it was because of his large build.
"You little—!"
"Lee Junha. Watch your words in front of elders."
My younger uncle stopped him and looked at me with interest.
Of course he would.
The kid who used to just cry while getting beaten was now calmly talking back.
"I thought you had no talent for martial arts, but you made it into the military course. You're not bad, Seoha."
"He's better than I expected."
"Well, it's just a rural academy."
"A dragon can rise even from a small stream."
My father smiled and turned away.
He had already seen my skills firsthand, so there was no need to be provoked by my uncle.
"Let's go, Seoha."
"Yes, Father."
As I turned, Junha sneered from behind.
"See you later, Lee Seoha."
Why were there so many people who wanted to see me later?
No need to respond.
The main hall of Cheongsin Sanga was modest.
Inside, my father and I quietly watched an old man immersed in training in his private practice hall.
Soon, as if finishing his routine, the old man wiped his sweat and turned to us.
"Have you been well, Father?"
"Yes. It's been a while."
Short-cropped hair and a sharp jawline.
Though in his early seventies, he looked no older than his early fifties.
Countless scars covered his body, each one a testament to the life he had lived.
That man was my grandfather—Ironblood (鐵血) Lee Gangjin.
I began to feel tense.
After meeting only mediocre fighters for so long, I was finally facing a true warrior.
"Seoha, you've grown a lot."
My grandfather stepped forward and lowered himself to my eye level.
Then, with his massive hands, he ran them over my shoulders, arms, legs, and back.
I knew exactly what he was doing.
He was feeling my muscles.
And then—
"Yes. Just as reported."
Reported?
I tilted my head, confused, as my grandfather patted my head.
"I heard you advanced to the military course. Well done."
"Of course."
"'Of course,' you say. Do not belittle your own effort. This is the result of the sweat you shed."
"Yes, Grandfather. I'll remember that."
"You've grown greatly in just one year."
Wearing a satisfied smile, my grandfather turned his gaze to my father.
"So, Sangwon. Have you eaten dinner?"
"Not yet."
"Then go change your clothes and wait a moment. Tonight, we'll dine with just the family."
The moment my grandfather disappeared, my father and I let out a sigh at the same time.
"Phew, that was tense."
"Same here."
"Do you think he was satisfied?"
"From his expression, it seemed like it."
I'd expected him to check my level of training.
Experts could tell one's external cultivation just by feeling the muscles.
But "reported"…?
Judging by that, someone must have attended the promotion exam.
'…Well, as long as he's satisfied.'
It seemed like I'd cleared the first hurdle.
Dinner preparations didn't take long.
My younger uncle Lee Gyeongwon appeared with Junha, followed by my eldest uncle.
'It's been a while, Eldest Uncle.'
If I had to describe Lee Jangwon in one phrase, it would be "a middle-aged man full of bluster."
He wasn't a bad person, but he bragged excessively and talked only about himself, so few people liked him.
He was the complete opposite of Lee Gyeongwon, and the two clashed often.
As expected, my eldest uncle spoke the moment he sat down.
"It's been a while, little brother. Have you been well?"
"Yes, I've been well. How about you, Brother?"
"Oh, I'm doing great. Did I ever tell you about Geonha?"
"No, you didn't."
Lee Geonha.
The eldest son of Lee Jangwon, my cousin, now twenty-five.
Unlike his father, who was all bluster and no substance, Geonha was someone who proved himself through ability.
"Well, Geonha became a White-Robed Immortal this time. Ha ha! I knew he'd make it. He took after me—outstanding since he was little."
Bragging about children was a timeless pastime.
The problem was that once my eldest uncle started, it never ended.
"As you know, Father is the only Immortal our family has produced, right? Gyeongwon and I failed, and you became a pharmacist. But now that Geonha's an Immortal, I can finally rest easy. At least we don't have to worry about the next family head anymore, right? Ha ha ha!"
Such words could have been dangerous with the head of the family still alive, but fortunately, my grandfather said nothing.
That was when my younger uncle seized the moment.
"Brother, Father is still in such good health—what reckless nonsense is that? And how could a mere White-Robed Immortal inherit Cheongsin?"
White-Robed Immortal (白衣仙人).
The title given to those who had just become Immortals.
Even reaching that level was undeniably remarkable.
Countless warriors trained daily just to reach it, yet no matter how hard ordinary people tried, they could never attain it.
Still, within the Immortal realm, it wasn't particularly exceptional.
Nine out of ten Immortals were White-Robed, and most never advanced beyond that stage.
Even so, my eldest uncle didn't flinch.
He merely smirked.
"A 'mere' Immortal? That's not something someone who isn't even one should say."
"And weren't you unable to become one as well?"
"But my son did."
"Junha will become an Immortal once he grows up."
"We'll talk about that when it happens. Don't speak as if things that haven't occurred already have. Ha ha ha."
"Tch."
With nothing left to say, my younger uncle clicked his tongue.
Then he frowned at his son.
While the adults were arguing, Lee Junha was busy eating like a pig.
"In any case, talking about the family head is premature. Don't you agree, Father?"
"It's not entirely wrong. Since we're on the subject, you should start choosing a successor soon."
When my eldest uncle redirected the topic, my grandfather—who had remained silent until now—finally spoke.
"I will decide that myself. If you want a voice, then become Immortals."
Everyone fell silent.
Absolute meritocracy.
In Cheongsin, the only way to have a say was to become an Immortal.
Conversely, once you became one, you could voice your opinion no matter your age.
In other words, the only people currently qualified to discuss family matters were my grandfather and my cousin Lee Geonha.
"More importantly—did you hear that Seoha passed the military course?"
"Is that true? Oh?"
My eldest uncle looked genuinely surprised.
Fair enough—last time he'd seen me, I was nothing more than an immature child.
"Well done, Seoha. You've truly stepped onto the path of a warrior."
He congratulated me sincerely.
For a man who had raised an Immortal son, my advancement was merely a small achievement of a cute nephew.
But my younger uncle was different.
"Congratulations. It may be just a rural military course, but if you keep at it, you might pass the martial exam someday."
What a congratulation that barely sounded like one.
Just as I felt, there wasn't the slightest hint of satisfaction on his face.
It was only natural.
He had a son the same age as me—inevitably, I was a direct point of comparison.
More than that, my grandfather had never once praised Junha.
In fact, it would be more accurate to say he'd never even mentioned him.
So seeing my grandfather praise me couldn't have sat well with him.
Regardless, my grandfather continued.
"So then, Gyeongwon, make room for Seoha in the military course. Sangwon, pack up and move back to the main house. You lived as you pleased—shouldn't Seoha be allowed to live as he wishes too?"
"Yes. That's right."
I knew it.
Just as expected, my grandfather issued what was essentially an order to enter Cheongsin Academy.
But I had no intention of following it.
Cheongsin was indeed a prestigious academy—but there was another place I had to go.
Even before my regression, my goal had always been Seongmu Academy. I'd never considered anywhere else.
"Thank you for the offer, but—"
That was when it happened.
"That won't be possible, Father. Next year's military course is already full."
My younger uncle stepped forward in fierce opposition.