Chapter 1: Seonwoo Family-1

Triple Sword Light Split.

Shu-haak!

The ultimate technique of the Jeomchang Sect's Eighteen Luminous Swords split the light and sent three heads tumbling to the ground.

Clear Wind Azure Waves.

Sha-aak!

The ultimate technique of the Mount Qingcheng Sect's Clear Wind Sword Technique tore through the chests of the onrushing figures, sending blood spraying into the air.

But the ones who rushed at me—even as their bodies were split apart and they died, they let out no scream at all.

And I, the one who did that to them, felt no joy whatsoever.

On the contrary, I wept bitter tears.

Because all of them were not enemies, but my own household—the family members of the Seonwoo Clan.

My family, my friends, my subordinates.

"Kuahahaha! What an amusing fellow you are! You're supposed to be the head of the Seonwoo Clan, yet you do nothing but wield the martial arts of Mount Qingcheng and Jeomchang all day long! Have you forgotten that renowned Seonwoo Thirteen Swords of yours?"

The demon head of the Blood Cult, the Black Blood Illusion Demon Du Dang.

The bastard who had turned the Seonwoo Clan's household members into puppets and made them attack—he was mocking me.

"Aha! Now that I think about it, that technique was only passed down as far as this fellow here, wasn't it? Had you forgotten?"

Beside him stood my younger brother, Seonwoo Gi—the head of the Seonwoo Clan just before me—standing rigid with a vacant expression.

I had heard he went missing during the Blood Cult's attack, but to think he had become Du Dang's puppet like that.

And that wasn't all.

"Slaughtering your own household so brutally—what a ruthless bastard you are. I heard you're from the Flying Dragon Corps? Damn Flying Dragon Corps bastards. Tsk, tsk."

Clicking his tongue, Du Dang looked around at my family members standing vacantly and spoke.

"Now then, who should I send that you couldn't bear to kill, to make you surrender? That's right—I'll have to use this child, won't I?"

Where his gaze landed, there that child stood.

My younger sister Yeon-ha—the one who had stayed by my side to the very end, even back when I was called the shame of the Seonwoo Clan, a useless pig.

I had hoped that at least she, of all people, would be left untouched...

My expression must have twisted badly, because Du Dang clapped his hands and burst into bright laughter.

"That's right! I seem to have chosen well! Now, go on—kill this child just as brutally! O final head of the Seonwoo Clan, Seonwoo Jin!"

My younger sister Yeon-ha was slowly walking toward me, passing through the Blood Cultists who surrounded me.

In her hand, she held her beloved sword Baekro—the one I had gifted her...

I suddenly looked around.

Blood Cultists surrounded me in every direction, and behind the wall they had formed, Du Dang had lined up the people of the Seonwoo Clan he had turned into puppets, parading them before me. He was sending them one by one, clapping his hands and enjoying himself.

Now, there was no hope left.

I shut my eyes tight.

'I'm sorry, squad leader. It seems I could never become like you, after all.'

The face of the man who had taken me—a mere wreck of a person—and forged me into a martial artist suddenly rose in my mind: my benefactor, my eternal squad leader, the Gale Flying Dragon Seol Pung.

And the words he had spoken to me...

Whenever I was crushed by despair, he would always smile and say this to me:

'Jin, are you crumpling yourself up like that again? I've always told you—you've already done the very best you could. That's enough. The outcome itself is not your responsibility. So straighten your shoulders now, and stop.'

My eyes snapped open again.

Strength had returned to my gaze.

The squad leader had always said it.

Do what you can, until the very final moment.

As long as you don't give up until the end, even if you're defeated, you are no loser.

Yes, those words were right.

Just because you cannot win did not mean you had to become a loser.

I would not be able to defeat them today, and naturally, I would not survive either.

But there was still something I could do—something I had to do.

If I was captured by them like this, my body would become Du Dang's puppet just as my family had.

And someday, that bastard would repeat to my squad leader what he had done to me.

I could not let that happen.

The thought of my existence becoming a burden to my squad leader and my friends—that was a terrible thing.

'Yes. If I must die anyway, I will die cleanly, by my own will!'

I made that resolution.

I grasped the sword in reverse grip and raised it before my chest.

The Red Lotus Sword, symbol of the Seonwoo Clan head, said to carry the energy of destruction—it was aimed at my heart.

At that, the smile finally vanished from Du Dang's face.

"You bastard, what are you trying to do?!"

It seemed that this time, I too had made the right choice. I smiled fiercely and told the bastard:

"You may kill me, but you will never use my corpse. And, Du Dang—I will absolutely not let you live. Even if I become a vengeful ghost, I will kill you by any means!"

The moment I finished speaking, the tip of the Red Lotus Sword pierced through my heart.

Pu-uk!

A pain as though my chest was being seared by fire shot through my entire body.

But it was not agonizing.

Rather, even as my consciousness grew dim, I felt a small measure of relief.

Because the Red Lotus Sword—called the Divine Sword throughout the Seonwoo Clan's long history—had pierced my heart, so that bastard would not be able to use my corpse either.

And there was regret, too.

Had I known it would come to this, I would have lived a little harder.

I wouldn't have done nothing but run away using the excuse that I didn't want to fight my brothers.

And I would have let my talents unfold to their fullest, just a little more...

***

Within my hazy consciousness, a piercing voice shrieked and stabbed at my ears.

"Kyaaak! Murder!"

Right, there had been murder.

I'd killed plenty, and I'd committed suicide too.

So could you kindly be a little quiet?

It's so noisy I can't even stay dead.

"It's murder! Young Master Seonwoo Jin has killed Young Master Dan Ha-sang!"

Maybe because I was dead, my head felt incredibly heavy, but the moment I heard that voice, my face crumpled into a fierce scowl.

Dan Ha-sang? What era are you even talking about?

I still can't sleep whenever I think about that incident, as it is.

But as the surroundings grew noisier and I heard the sound of people gathering, only then was my consciousness able to notice that something was strange.

I quietly tried opening my eyes.

And astonishingly, they opened.

"Huh?!"

I was bewildered.

I had definitely died,

And yet my eyes are opening?

Why?

And the sight that greeted me the moment I opened my eyes was the mess of scattered liquor bottles and food, and directly across from me, the corpse of a young man slumped over.

The corpse of a man dead with a sword stabbed into his back.

I knew him very well.

His name was Dan Ha-sang.

The man who had promised to become the husband of my younger sister Yeon-ha, and who had died over a decade ago, in the year I turned twenty-one.

But now, wasn't he lying dead right before my eyes?

"This, what in the world...?"

I stared at him with vacant eyes.

I could not grasp what was happening in the slightest.

I couldn't even tell whether my head felt blank from the alcohol, or from this utterly incomprehensible situation.

I suddenly looked down at my hand.

It was a plump, chubby hand like a bear's paw.

"This... isn't my hand?"

My eyes furrowed automatically.

This chubby hand was, at the very least, not my current hand.

It was a hand I thought I had parted with forever after losing weight at age twenty-two...

"Is this a dream? What on earth? How far back?"

As I muttered vacantly, people swarmed into the room.

They were startled to see the corpse and then shouted at me.

"Young Master Seonwoo! Why on earth did you murder Young Master Dan?!"

Hearing those words, I blankly shifted my gaze to the sword embedded in the corpse's back.

Dan Ha-sang—the sword stabbed into his back was none other than my own sword.

***

I was seized, bound tightly, and forced to kneel in the center of the great hall. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Around me, the elders and household members of the Seonwoo Clan stood at a distance, watching me.

Kneeling with this fat body was making my legs go terribly numb, even in the midst of all this.

'Ah, this... I guess this really isn't a dream, is it?'

At the sensation of reality that was far too vivid, I swallowed dryly.

At that moment, the middle-aged man standing on the dais at the front of the great hall before me bellowed in a voice that seemed to breathe fire.

My father, Seonwoo Jung, the head of the Guizhou Seonwoo Clan.

"Jin-i, you wretch! Do you have anything to say for yourself?!"

No, not at all.

I had nothing to say.

Not so much because I had no excuse, but because this situation was so utterly absurd that I had no words—that's what I meant.

The father whom I had last seen at age twenty-one and never saw again was roaring at me.

And doing so with the exact appearance and words I remembered from back then.

"Does your refusal to speak mean you intend to admit that you killed the third young master of the Dan family—the man who was to become your brother-in-law?!"

No, absolutely not.

That I could never admit.

At twenty-one, I had been too bewildered and too drunk to trust even myself, so I had been unable to say anything at all. But in the years that followed, after many sleepless nights of thinking, I had reached a conclusion.

'I am absolutely not the one who killed him.'

That's right.

I had neither a reason to kill him, nor the ability.

He was my one and only friend—the one who had treated me without any reservation, even when I was treated as the shame of the family.

And thanks to him, my younger sister Yeon-ha had gained a connection, and they were scheduled to be betrothed.

So why on earth would I, who had been counting the days until he became my brother-in-law, ever kill him?

Furthermore, he was a quite promising son of a martial family, whereas I, at this time, was nothing more than a pig.

No matter how drunk I was, killing him with my abilities would have been a difficult—no, an impossible thing.

And...

'More than anything else, there is one certain piece of evidence proving it wasn't me who killed him.'

That day, I had not brought my sword to the drinking party.

Since I had been called a prodigy from a young age due to my inferior memory, I could state that much with absolute certainty.

The conclusion was that Dan Ha-sang's death was undeniably a conspiracy.

A conspiracy to kill him and pin the blame on me.

But despite all of this, the words that came out of my mouth were completely different from my thoughts just now—the exact same words as that time when I was twenty-one.

"I... do not remember."

To Yeon-ha as well, that answer only poured more fuel on the fire of Father Seonwoo Jung's fury.

Enraged, Father shouted.

"You stupid fool! How dare you spout such drivel?!"

Then the young men standing beside Seonwoo Jung—my brothers, whom I was seeing for the first time in a long while—laughed incredulously and spoke.

"It wasn't the first or second time that idiot caused trouble while drunk, but who would've dreamed he'd cause a catastrophic accident like this?"

"Really? I knew it all along. Last time he set a fire, so I wondered what sort of utter disgrace he'd pull next to shame the family. I figured it could only be killing a man while drunk. I just never imagined he'd kill the man who was to become his brother-in-law."

"In any case, I'm rather surprised. I didn't know those pig-like hands of hyung-nim could even hold a sword. Let alone kill a man with it."

In the eyes of my brothers, who giggled as they spoke, there was an unconcealable glint of contempt.

It was a scene exactly identical to my memory.

I swept my gaze over them with cold eyes.

'Probably one of them is the one. The one who killed Dan Ha-sang and framed me.'

Judging solely by what was just said, the second brother Seonwoo Hyuk, who claimed he had already known, seemed the most likely.

But I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠suspected someone else more than him.

At that moment, Father Seonwoo Jung roared again.

"I do not know how to punish you properly! How can we atone to the Dan Family Estate?! Shall I kill you and send your corpse to them?!"

I merely kept my head deeply bowed and stayed still.

If this was truly a situation where I had returned to the past, then whether I spoke or not, the outcome was already decided.

Sure enough, my brothers began offering their opinions with sardonic smiles.

"If you kill him and send him, will their fury be quelled? Turn him into a cripple and then send him alive. So that they may vent their rage directly."

This was the eldest brother Seonwoo Seong's suggestion.

"Is there any need for us to go to the trouble? Just sever ties and cast him out, and they'll handle it themselves."

This was the second brother Seonwoo Hyuk's suggestion.

But the decisive suggestion came, just as in my memory, from the fourth son, Seonwoo Gi.

"How about doing this? Send the third hyung to the frontlines."

"Huh?"

"What?"

Because the opinion was so unexpected, not only the other brothers but also Father Seonwoo Jung widened his eyes and stared at Seonwoo Gi.

He continued speaking.

"Didn't a request come from the Alliance not long ago anyway? To send one direct-line member to the frontlines. So, send the third hyung there."

Then Father Seonwoo Jung asked with a grave face.

"With Jin-i's martial arts, if he goes to the frontlines, he'll be killed instantly by the demons?"

"What does it matter? A life meant to die anyway—if he dies that way, wouldn't it be an honorable death? Upholding the family's honor, paying for his sins, isn't that killing two birds with one stone?"

As he finished speaking, I muttered one more reason he hadn't mentioned inside my mouth.

'And then one of you wouldn't have to go to the frontlines either, right?'

The frontline referred to the boundary line facing off against the Blood Cult that had seized Yunnan Province.

Over ten years ago, the Blood Cult had once toppled the Jeomchang Sect of Yunnan—one of the Nine Great Sects—and attempted to advance into the Central Plains.

At that time, the Murim Alliance had organized a punitive force and clashed with them head-on. That was the Great Blood War.

Back then, after a desperate and grueling battle that claimed the life of the Alliance Leader of that era, the Murim Alliance had barely managed to prevent the Blood Cult's advance into the Central Plains.

But they could do nothing about Yunnan Province, which the cult had already seized. The territory of the Jeomchang Sect had fallen entirely into the possession of the Blood Cult.

After that, the Murim Alliance recruited righteous martial artists near Yunnan Province to monitor the Blood Cult's attempts at advancing into the Central Plains, and people called that place the Anti-Blood Cult Frontline.

'But that was just a story from over ten years ago. Now... tsk.'

As time passed, the frontlines, which had initially been a place where chivalrous martial artists volunteered eagerly, had degenerated into nothing more than a place of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pure danger with neither glory nor gain.

And so, it eventually became a place that could only be maintained by forcibly conscripting martial artists.

For that reason, the sects of Guizhou Prefecture under the Murim Alliance were obligated this time to each send one direct-line member to Yunnan Province, where the Anti-Blood Cult Frontline was deployed.

Our Seonwoo Clan was no exception.

'Originally, it should have been one of my three remaining brothers, not me with my weak martial arts, who had to go. But! Now, using this incident as justification, they could send me, someone it didn't matter if he died, right?'

So for my brothers, nothing could be more welcome.

Having replayed the events of this moment thousands, tens of thousands of times, I had thus come to think it was most likely the fourth son, Seonwoo Gi, who had hatched the conspiracy.

The opinion within the hall was soon unified into one.

Because it was a decision where no one had anything to lose—no, it was all too advantageous for the remaining brothers.

We decided to provide the Dan Family Estate with modest material compensation, and the conclusion was that I would be transferred to the frontlines in Yunnan Province as quickly as possible.

It was the exact same decision as over ten years ago, when I was twenty-one.

After that, I was imprisoned in the Thunder Prison.

In the pitch-black night sky, a pale, emaciated moon hung high and solitary, holding its own light.

It was the same moon of my homeland that I had gazed upon every night for a long while even after arriving in Yunnan.

Suddenly, thoughts from that time surfaced.

'Back then, I used to gaze at that moon and weep endlessly.'

But now, having returned, it was not the same.

Because I already knew that two people would visit me tonight.

And I had to obtain something from one of those two.

One of them was already approaching cautiously.

It was my kind younger sister, Yeon-ha, who had always been a sanctuary to me in a household that had constantly prickled like a bed of thorns.

"Jin orabeoni, are you alright?"

The moment I saw the girl's face, the image of her as a puppet of the Blood Cult right before I returned to the past flashed through my mind, making me feel all the more achingly tender toward her.

I smiled gently and answered.

"I'm alright, Yeon-ha. Has anything happened to you?"

"What could possibly happen to me? It's you, orabeoni, who must stay strong. I believe you are not the culprit."

Even back then, that kind girl had said the same thing to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me.

At that time, I had just wept and repeated my thanks.

But now, I could say it with confidence.

"You are right, Yeon-ha. Your orabeoni is not the culprit."

Then Yeon-ha countered with a surprised expression.

"What?"

"Hm? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No, it's just. I wondered why you were so certain..."

Huh? Why was I so certain?

"Would there be any reason for me to kill him, my only friend and the man who was to become your husband? Above all, Brother Dan and I had been drinking while facing each other. Yet the sword was embedded in Brother Dan's back. And it was a sword I had never even brought with me, no less."

Then Yeon-ha swallowed dryly and replied.

"I-is that so. Then, orabeoni, why did you not say so in front of Father...?"

"Because going to the frontlines, leaving the clan, seemed like a better choice for me."

"What?!"

That was the truth.

Looking back on my past life, my life could be divided into before and after being deployed to the frontlines.

Among those, my previous life—that is, my life in the clan—could not be considered that of a martial artist, even at best.

'No, far from living like a martial artist, I hadn't even lived like a person.'

The memories of that time were truly enough to make my chest tighten painfully just by recalling them.

Among the brothers of the Seonwoo Clan, I was the only one without a mother. It was because she had passed away when I was very young.

But truthfully, that wasn't really what mattered.

What mattered was that I had no powerful maternal family.

In my childhood, thanks to my outstanding memory, there had been a time when I was renowned as a prodigy.

And it was from then that I had to realize it.

'The more I displayed my abilities, the more hated I would become, and the shorter my life would be.'

The cold gazes sent by the mothers of my other brothers.

The suffocating pressure that squeezed me tighter and tighter.

Though I was young, I could feel them all too keenly.

So I had no choice but to choose.

The path of concealing my abilities and becoming a fool...

But then one day, while pretending to be a fool, I suddenly realized.

That I had become a real fool.

Trying to appear lazy, I had truly become lazy. Trying to appear as if I only played around, I had truly learned nothing at all.

I had chuckled stupidly even while being called the disgrace of the Seonwoo Clan, and had ruined myself by always indulging in wine, women, and gambling.

That had been my life for the past twenty-one years.

A hollow laugh suddenly escaped me.

'Yeah, honestly, even if they cursed me as a piglet, I deserved it.'

So to change that, I had to escape the clan.

And I had to go to the frontlines and meet him.

My idol, the one who had changed me—the disgrace of the Seonwoo Clan—into a martial artist: Gale Flying Dragon, Seol Pung.

That was the reason I said nothing and let the false accusation stand.

Of course, even in this life, I had no intention of letting that false accusation stick forever.