Chapter 1: Send Me to the Past
Chapter 1: Send Me to the Past
Gwi Ryeongja stared silently at his midnight visitor.
As the Master of the Ghost Gate—a man who had carved his way through the Mountain of Blades and the Forest of Swords—he had dealt with his fair share of intruders.
They came in all varieties: the bold, the meticulous, the skilled, and the cunning. On rare occasions, one would appear who was all four at once. Of course, not even that rare breed had ever left this estate alive.
But the man standing before him now was unlike any intruder he had ever faced.
Looking into those weary eyes, which seemed to have tasted every bitter and stinging hardship life had to offer, only one thought crossed Gwi Ryeongja’s mind.
Damn it. Is today the day I die?
Carefully concealing his anxiety, Gwi Ryeongja asked calmly, “Have we met before?”
“No.”
The man’s voice was low, yet remarkably pleasant to the ear.
“Then what brings you here on a night like this?”
Please, Gwi Ryeongja prayed silently, don’t let that pleasant voice say, ‘It’s a good night to die, you ghostly wretch.’
“I came to ask a favor.”
Having just mentally dragged himself back from the gates of hell, Gwi Ryeongja felt a wave of relief. “Let’s hear it.”
What came from the man’s lips was, truly, a request more astonishing than anything the Master of the Ghost Gate had heard in his entire life.
“Send me to the past.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Gwi Ryeongja stared at the man with a strange look in his eyes before asking softly, “How can a mere mortal turn back time?”
“I wouldn’t know. You’re the one who should tell me, being the only person in this world who can perform the Great Regression Art.”
Gwi Ryeongja did not deny it. “How did you know I could perform it?”
The Great Regression Art was a secret technique passed down exclusively within his bloodline.
“Seo Jin.”
At the sound of that beloved name, Gwi Ryeongja was overcome with emotion. “How do you know my sister?”
“We were companions during my days as a wanderer.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s dead.”
“Ah…!” A deep, ragged sigh escaped Gwi Ryeongja’s lips.
The Great Regression Art had been researched and refined by his family for hundreds of years. It had been incomplete in his father’s generation, so he and his younger sister had spent their childhoods helping their father perfect it.
Then, ten years ago, his sister had declared she could no longer bear the burden and fled the family in the middle of the night. Gwi Ryeongja understood why. In the name of their family’s "great work," she had sacrificed the flower of her youth—her entire twenties—to grueling research.
“How did Jin-yi die?”
“I took her revenge, so you need not worry. Before she passed, she asked me to give you a message. She said she lived a life with no regrets and hoped that you, her brother, would do the same. She told me not to live a life dedicated solely to researching the Great Art, but to live a life of your own.”
Gwi Ryeongja sank into a well of deep regret. The man waited until he had composed himself before asking the most important question of the night.
“Have you completed the Great Art?”
Gwi Ryeongja slowly nodded. “Yes. In my generation, it is finally complete.”
For a moment, a flicker of joy crossed the man’s face. As his expression brightened, Gwi Ryeongja realized he was quite a handsome, charming man.
“How far back can I go?”
“That cannot be set. You could go back ten years, or you could go back thirty. You might return to being a baby, or if you’re unlucky, you might only go back to yesterday.”
“I’ve always had luck on my side, so I’m not worried.”
“You seem to think you can go back this very instant.” A bitter look crossed Gwi Ryeongja’s face. “The Great Art is impossible. If it were feasible, I would have already gone back myself.”
“Didn’t you say you completed it?”
“I haven’t been able to acquire the necessary materials.”
“I will get the materials for you.”
“I’m telling you, it’s impossible.”
“Tell me what they are.”
“Of the ninety-nine materials required for the Great Art, there are five I have never been able to obtain. The first one alone is absolutely impossible to get. Have you ever heard of the Sound Thunder Bell?”
“The sacred relic of the Pungcheon Cult?”
“Correct. That’s the one.”
The Pungcheon Cult, the successor to the Blood Cult, was the most powerful force in the Outer Lands.
“To perform the Great Regression Art, we need the sound waves produced when the Sound Thunder Bell is struck. But that bell is a treasure of the Pungcheon Cult, kept directly behind the Cult Leader’s throne. Do you still think you can bring it here?”
Gwi Ryeongja hadn’t even dared to ask to borrow it. If he had, his entire family would have been annihilated by the foul-tempered Pungcheon Cult Leader.
“I will bring it.”
With that resolute answer, the man turned and left before Gwi Ryeongja could even try to stop him.
“Is he insane?” Gwi Ryeongja muttered. That was his only thought at the time, even as he regretted not asking more about his sister.
*
The man returned several years later.
One night, while Gwi Ryeongja was suffering from insomnia, the man who had vanished like a midsummer night’s dream reappeared. He was carrying the enormous Sound Thunder Bell on his back. The evil ghosts carved into the metal looked even more hideous than before, as if enraged by their long journey from the Outer Lands.
“Would you like to strike it?”
Gwi Ryeongja’s eyes widened as he inspected the bell over and over. “This can’t be! My god… this is impossible!”
It was hard to believe, but this was the genuine Sound Thunder Bell, faintly emanating the sinister Blood Energy of the Blood Cult.
“You crazy bastard! How in the world did you get this?”
“When I say I’ll do something, I do it. What’s the next material?”
The man’s simple yet confident gaze showed that his earlier boast was no empty bluff. He’s no ordinary man, Gwi Ryeongja realized. But he soon sighed in despair.
“You may have gotten lucky and brought back the Pungcheon Cult’s sacred relic, but you won’t be able to get the next one.”
“What is it?”
“The Divine Profound Incense Burner, a sacred relic of the New Dragon Family. The Great Art requires the incense that rises from it.”
The New Dragon Family.
They were the symbol of the Orthodox Faction that had risen to prominence after the Murim Alliance’s Sealing of the Gates. They were the most formidable power in the land—a force known to be even stronger than the Pungcheon Cult.
“Understood. I’ll hear about the third material after I bring back the incense burner.”
“You’re leaving the Sound Thunder Bell with me? What if I run off with it?”
“Then I’ll inform the Pungcheon Cult that you stole their bell.”
Leaving behind a challenge of ‘try me if you dare,’ the man departed.
Again, the years flowed by.
Will he really bring it back this year? Gwi Ryeongja wondered every New Year. On an autumn day, after that doubt had repeated itself five or six times, the man returned with the Divine Profound Incense Burner.
“You really brought it!” Gwi Ryeongja couldn’t believe his eyes. “How on earth did you manage this?”
“If I wrote down the whole story, it would fill half a dozen books.”
“Tell me! I’d read ten books if I had to. I’m dying of curiosity!”
“There’s no time for that.”
What was it that allowed this man to turn the impossible into reality? With his abilities, he could live a magnificent life in this era. Why was he so desperate to go back?
“Is the reason you want to regress for revenge?”
“It is.”
“With your skills, surely you can get your revenge in this life?”
“It’s impossible.”
“Who is your enemy, that even you would say that?”
A single name flowed from the man’s lips. “Hwa Mu-gi.”
“Gah!” The name alone made Gwi Ryeongja gasp.
Hwa Mu-gi.
He held two titles. The first was ‘Three Seals.’ It was a title that seemed more fitting for a venerable scholar, but his ‘seal’ did not refer to a stamp of office. Hwa Mu-gi’s seal meant ‘to seal away.’
The Sealing of the Orthodox Murim Alliance.
The Sealing of the Unorthodox Path Alliance.
The Sealing of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
The leaders of the three most powerful forces in the Murim had all died by his hand. The Murim Alliance Leader, the Unorthodox Path Alliance Leader, and the Heavenly Demon were all dead. Their families and any masters who refused to surrender were slaughtered.
That was why his second title was ‘Unrivaled Across All Time.’
Hwa Mu-gi was the absolute master of this era. After sealing the three powers, he declared his own home the Under Heaven Alliance, and thousands of masters flocked to his side. People called him the Immortal Martial God for achieving the Unification of the Murim.
“Good heavens! He’s an opponent you couldn’t beat even if you went back in time!”
“I will kill him, no matter what.”
“But how? He’s the greatest martial arts genius in the history of the Murim.”
“I grew up hearing people call me a genius, too.”
“He possesses the Heavenly Martial Physique, a gift from the heavens themselves!”
“I, too, have a Heavenly Martial Physique.”
“What? Who in the world are you?”
“The Heavenly Demon that bastard killed… was my father.”
Gwi Ryeongja was struck dumb. He had never dreamed that this man was the son of the late Heavenly Demon. Now, the feats he had accomplished made sense. He knew the man was extraordinary, but he never imagined he held such a status.
“Then how did you survive?”
In response, the man loosened his robes. The scar on his chest was so horrific that Gwi Ryeongja wanted to scream.
“When I opened my eyes, I was in a pile of corpses. I crawled out just before I was buried alive.”
“So that’s what happened…”
“The reason I can’t forgive Hwa Mu-gi isn’t because he tried to kill me. It’s not because he killed my father, nor because he killed my cunning, worthless brother. For someone who has lived a life branded as ‘demonic,’ being killed by a rival is part of the path.”
“Then why?”
“That day, Hwa Mu-gi killed everyone who didn’t know a lick of martial arts—the maidservants, the cooks, even the young children. He even killed the dogs and cats. He annihilated every living thing in sight.”
“Lies! I can’t believe it.”
“Whether you believe me or not is none of my concern.”
Gwi Ryeongja could feel the truth in the man’s words. The man he had come to know was not someone who would lie about such things.
“What kind of person he is doesn’t matter anymore,” the man continued. “For all I know, he might truly be a great hero with a grand purpose. Some might even applaud him for rooting out the Demonic Cult. But to me, Hwa Mu-gi is nothing more than the enemy who slaughtered my family—a cold-blooded man without a shred of mercy. I cannot kill him in this era. So I must go back. And before I kill him, I have to ask: you, who were already so strong, did you really have to kill all those children?”
Gwi Ryeongja stared at him, dazed. He had never imagined the man carried such a burden.
The man placed a hand on his own chest. “That day, my personal bodyguard died protecting me, a hole pierced right here. He was a friend who never married, never even had a life of his own, because he spent his days and nights protecting me. Now, stop wasting my precious time. What is the third material?”
“You really are…”
“A busy man. The next material!”
Gwi Ryeongja let out the deepest sigh since the day they met. “No matter who you are, you won’t be able to get this one.”
“What is it?”
“The Inner Core of a Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp. The last recorded discovery was three hundred years ago. It might not even exist in this world anymore.”
“To hell with this Great Art,” the man cursed. “Should I just cut you down right here?”
“Please, restrain yourself.”
“I have to. After everything I’ve been through… Wait for me. This one might take quite a while.”
“Hey! Do you think a Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp is just going to bite if you cast a line?”
“A Ten-Thousand-Year Fire Carp is still a carp, isn’t it? It must be in the water somewhere. Wait for me. I will bring it back, no matter what.”
Watching the man’s back as he walked toward the impossible, Gwi Ryeongja felt that things like the rest of his sister’s story, or even the man’s name, were no longer important. All that mattered was whether this man could actually defy fate.