-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Blood Demon, Has Regressed (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The blue heavens were drenched in blood.
"Keuk..."
The Blood Demon's blade pierced the heart of Murim Alliance Leader Namgung Cheon.
"To think that you... would dare scorn the world itself..."
All around lay a swamp of corpses forming a corpse mountain blood sea, and under the moonlight reflecting crimson, the scene resembled nothing less than the Hell Path.
The Blood Demon slowly withdrew his sword from the Alliance Leader's chest.
Gazing at the Leader's body crumpling lifelessly without resistance, the Blood Demon thought that in the face of death, noble or lowly made no difference.
At least, for all those whose hearts his blade had pierced.
The Alliance Leader, the heads of the Five Great Sects, even the Demonic Cult Leader—all were equal before death.
How many decades had passed since the day he resolved to bring down the murim world?
Though he appeared in his thirties after Shedding Mortality, he had lived nearly a century.
In that long span, silently swinging his sword, the number of murim folk who died by his hand reached roughly thirty-seven thousand—around the time the world began calling him the Blood Demon.
The Blood Demon.
I took up the sword to survive.
Then I cut down people to protect what was mine, and when there was nothing left to protect, I killed for revenge.
Yes, I was nothing more than a fool who couldn't protect even one precious soul.
Family, friends, lover—not one could I save.
I hated this world that stole away my loved ones.
I loathed the murim dwellers who scorned the weak and lived by seizing their possessions.
Gazing upon them, I resolved to erase murim from the world. And now, after decades, I had finally fulfilled that vow.
In my eyes, the surrounding murim folk lay as corpses.
Among them were famed young prodigies of prestigious sects, as well as seasoned veterans who had clawed their way up from the bottom through countless battles.
And now, they were all reduced to bloody lumps scattered across the ground.
By my hand.
"Cough..."
Blood poured from his mouth.
From the start, the plan to single-handedly dismantle the Murim Alliance headquarters and slay its Leader was next to impossible.
Yet taking the Leader down with him wasn't a bad outcome, was it?
Step.
But why, now that his revenge was complete, did not even a shred of joy appear before him?
Step.
Why was his heart filled only with regret?
Thud.
He couldn't even take three steps before collapsing.
Damn it all—the blade in his back wouldn't let him lie comfortably even as death loomed.
It had been a long life.
Far too long to have lived merely for revenge.
He slowly lifted his head to gaze at the sky. Too many had died. The heavens had granted far too much power to a fool who merely wished to change the world.
If he could turn back time, could he enjoy the same happiness as others without losing a single thing?
In his final moments, the greatest figure of past and present, who had shaken the world, mulled over his regrets.
"Do you regret it?"
At that moment, a man's voice brushed his ear.
"My distant descendant, you have fulfilled your role admirably."
My role?
"Someone had to do it. And yet, do you still regret it?"
If this was his role, he would have preferred not to be born.
If his life's purpose was to have everything taken and then take from others in turn, he would have rather not lived such a life.
"I see. Your vessel of sin overflows, making reincarnation impossible... but I will make it happen somehow."
What...?
Squeezing out his last strength, he slowly turned his head toward the voice.
In his blurry vision appeared a man with red hair, clad in garb like an immortal sage.
The face seemed familiar somewhere, but whether due to his failing sight or the blinding halo emanating from behind the man, he couldn't make it out.
"Defying the cycle of reincarnation carries grave sin, but this is my responsibility, my karma to bear."
As the man before him snapped his fingers, his mind grew distant.
Ah, so this is dying.
In his fading vision, he saw the man beckoning him.
If there is a next life, I hope—even just a little, even the tiniest bit—that I can be happy.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Flash!
He was certain he had died, yet suddenly his eyes snapped open.
Where is this?
A musty moldy stench filled the air, and instead of wallpaper, a ceiling smeared with mud came into view.
Wasn't hell supposed to be a place where blood burst forth, lava boiled, and goblins roamed?
This felt more like a ramshackle hut in a slum where beggars huddled together—hardly hellish.
"Oppa, are you okay?"
At that moment, an all-too-familiar voice rang clearly in his ear.
"Your face is so pale... Did you have a nightmare?"
A voice he could never forget, even after decades.
A voice he had longed to hear, even in dreams every night.
It was the voice of his dead little sister, Wolhyang.
"Wolhyang...? Is it really, truly you?"
"What's wrong, oppa? You're looking at me like I'm a ghost."
"Wolhyang."
I shot up from my seat and embraced Wolhyang.
My beautiful little sister, with her dark brown hair and jade-like skin, hailed as Qinghai's Greatest Beauty.
I clung to her with all my might—the girl identical to the image in my memories.
"Seeing you here before me means I really am dead."
"H-Huh? What's with you since morning? Why would you be dead?"
Hm?
Come to think of it, was Wolhyang this young?
"Is it because those thugs Dongcheol and his gang beat you up yesterday? Did you hit your head hard...?"
Dongcheol?
The name rang a bell.
Back when he lived alone with his sister in Xining, the bully who tormented him endlessly without fail—that was the guy's name...
And for some reason, his entire body ached unbearably.
Having been run through by Murim Alliance blades all over, pain was expected, but this felt different.
Right—like the ache the morning after getting beaten like a dog...
"Come here for a second."
Wolhyang placed her hand on my forehead with worried eyes.
"No fever, though..."
Only then did I properly look at my body.
Even after Shedding Mortality, he had maintained a youthful physique younger than his age, but no matter how I saw it, this body didn't look thirty—barely even twenty.
And the ragged, oversized clothes draped loosely over it.
Sensing something off, I caught my reflection in a puddle on the floor. There stared back the face from my childhood, one I thought I'd never see again.
Ha, so that's what he meant by reincarnation being impossible.
It seemed I had returned to the past.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The world's greatest, the Blood Demon—reduced to a beggar-like wretch in the slums.
If the Murim Alliance scum saw this, they'd have a field day mocking him.
Yes, I had such days too. Back when I begged and clung desperately just to survive another day.
"You're really okay, right, oppa?"
"Hm? Ah, yeah. I'm fine, so don't worry."
"You've been weird since earlier. Talking like some white-haired old man... You definitely hit your head hard yesterday, didn't you? Should we go to a physician now? If we beg and cry, they might see us."
The Blood Demon of the world, beaten by back-alley thugs and fussed over like this. It felt pathetic, but even so, being able to see Wolhyang with my own eyes brought more joy than anything in the world.
"I'm really fine, Wolhyang. No need to worry."
Yes, now there was nothing to worry about. No matter what, I would protect you this time.
"Still..."
Wolhyang continued scanning my body with worried eyes.
You were always like that. Even when death was at your doorstep, you fretted over me first.
Back when I was still in the Murim Alliance and earned great merit in the war against the Demonic Cult, I became a thorn in the side of the higher-ups simply because I rose from the bottom.
And when I was appointed captain of the Dragon Phoenix Corps, fearing for their positions, they kidnapped Wolhyang and blackmailed me.
'If you want to save your sister, kill yourself.'
Without hesitation, I drew my sword, ready to plunge it into my heart.
But before the blade could touch my chest, you threw yourself onto it.
Solely to save me.
Even as your breath faded, you worried endlessly about me.
Losing you like that blinded me with vengeance, and I slaughtered Murim Alliance members indiscriminately until the world named me the Blood Demon.
But not this time. In this life, I will never lose you.
"As long as you're by my side, I'll be fine no matter what happens."
This life, I would live not as the Blood Demon, but as Yi Sowol, Wolhyang's brother.
"Why are you suddenly like this? It's embarrassing..."
Watching you hide your flushed face, not knowing how, I made that vow.
That aside, how far back had I returned?
Since we were still living together in Xining with Wolhyang, it must be before the Righteous-Demonic Great War.
Asking her my age would surely make her think I'd badly injured my head.
A precious chance to return to the past—one that would never come again—had been granted to me. In this life, I would protect everyone dear to me without losing a single one.
"Wolhyang, I'm stepping out for a bit. Stay here and don't go anywhere."
To do that, I needed information right now.
"Huh? Oh, okay. When will you be back?"
"Soon. I'll bring some food too."
Before stepping out the door, I turned back and smiled at Wolhyang.
Her slightly dazed expression softened into a smile, finally reassured.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Stepping outside, haphazardly stacked stone huts and crumbling walls of half-ruined shacks greeted my eyes first. Returning to this hometown after so long stirred not a speck of fondness.
"Even the Beggars' Sect didn't live in dumps like this."
Even in Xining, dubbed the edge of the world, this beggar-only slum was the absolute dregs.
A place where no one bothered clearing the corpses of residents treated worse than street rats—the very bottom of the bottom.
Savoring the sewer-like scenery after so long, I walked until I reached a deserted alley. Perfect timing—I was curious about my condition anyway.
I sat cross-legged on a suitable spot and began Circulation and Breath Adjustment.
"Suuuup."
As expected, before my dantian had formed, my accumulated internal energy was feeble, but my state wasn't bad.
Come to think of it, around this time, I fought whenever I got the chance—probably why. I hated groveling to back-alley thugs, so I lashed out every which way.
Scraping by with theft and pickpocketing, I nearly died several times after crossing bad crowds. Naturally, I learned to fight in the process.
I definitely had a nickname even before earning the White Night Sword moniker in the war...
"What the—it's the mad dog? How's the beating from yesterday?"
Ah, right. Mad Dog.
But who the hell is this guy?
Skinny frame, smirking with mockery dripping from his lips, looking just like...
"What're you on about, you half-kneaded noodle-lookin' bastard."
Damn, I accidentally spat out what I meant to just think in anger.
"W-What? This crazy bastard hasn't had enough."
Our Noodle couldn't hold back at that and charged at me.
The Blood Demon of legends reduced to the Mad Dog scrapping with Noodle, who never became anything more.
Such is my fateful life.