Chapter 10

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 10

Chapter Title: Declaration of Expedition

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The scenic view of an ancient Taoist observatory, exuding an air of timeless elegance.

At its center stood a single succubus.

Her real name was Eirene Noctua.

In the gallery, she was known as Colorless Bird.

Just from her name, one might think she lived with "sex" perpetually on her lips—and indeed, as a succubus, her very race embodied sensuality. But she was no ordinary succubus. She had transcended the limitations ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of her kind to claim a seat among the Martial Gods.

Having overcome the innate yin energy that drew her soul and instincts inexorably toward it, she had finally attained the Supreme Yin Realm as a Martial God of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Scripture.

Now, she gazed down at a man collapsed at her feet with a complicated expression.

"...Newbie Mod."

Her small lips parted slightly as she named him.

Newbie Mod.

The rookie moderator of the Martial God Gallery.

A commoner who had appeared in this gallery reserved solely for Martial Gods—an existence shrouded in mystery and enigma.

And yet,

'I alone can share in that sorrow.'

From the moment he first appeared in the gallery, Newbie Mod had made a spectacular debut with his trolling posts.

In full view of the gallery's many Martial Gods, he unleashed a barrage of cringe-worthy nonsense that could scratch one's entire body and trigger qi deviation just from reading it, etching his presence into their minds.

Even from his subsequent posts, one couldn't help but sense his fundamentally cheerful disposition, and before long, he had ascended to gallery lord and moderator.

But whenever Eirene Noctua read his posts, she could keenly feel the loneliness hidden beneath that cheerfulness.

This was possible because the scripture she cultivated, the Yin-Yang Five Elements Scripture, encompassed the flows of the entire universe.

'The Yin-Yang Five Elements Scripture is the flow of the cosmos itself. And the human body is a microcosm unto itself. To break free from the innate shackles of being a succubus, I created a martial art that pierces through the currents of desire. I can tell—you've endured just as many wounds as I have to reach this point.'

It wasn't merely because she'd seen the photos he posted, realizing he hailed from a ruined world. That was secondary. The scars and isolation in his heart stemmed from the betrayals, solitude, and grief accumulated while surviving in that world.

That was why.

Every time she sensed those emotions deeply embedded in his posts, Eirene Noctua felt her own heart inexorably drawn toward him.

That was when it happened.

Shimmer—

Numerous mirage-like afterimages materialized around her.

This was the arena.

Spectators were allowed, so these were other Martial Gods who had been silently observing while concealing their presence until now.

As one of them spoke,

Perhaps because he'd been posting so much nonsense in the gallery,

The Martial Gods knew quite a bit about one another.

Not just theory-spouting birds like AlphaGo—even after thousands or tens of thousands of years of cultivation, everyone occasionally got high on enlightenment and scribbled epiphanies in meme posts, or exchanged insights through discussions when they needed help.

The same went for Eirene Noctua's Yin-Yang Five Elements Scripture.

As a martial art conceived from envisioning the primordial universe, those versed in cosmic knowledge understood that its initiation didn't involve stacking qi in a dantian like other systems. Instead, it started with total annihilation—a grand cataclysm.

Yes.

The grand cataclysm—another term for it was the Big Bang.

To achieve ultimate creation, the scripture first demanded ultimate destruction.

Naturally, demolishing everything within one's body was excruciatingly painful, tantamount to death.

Even Eirene Noctua, the creator of the Yin-Yang Five Elements Scripture, found the process so agonizing that her first attempt failed to shatter everything. Of course, by the time she devised it, she was already on the cusp of Martial God status, and perfecting it propelled her there—so she had far more accomplishments, and thus more to destroy.

The greater the achievements, the more there was to demolish; proportionally, her total suffering was monstrously amplified. Her trial was incomparably harder.

Yet for those who reached Martial God realm, mere quantity of pain was no excuse.

In the end, only her superhuman endurance—overcoming torment that would kill lesser beings—explained her current state.

"Truly astonishing, Newbie Mod. Physically, you haven't even taken a single step on the path of martial arts, yet mentally, you've already reached those distant heights."

She nodded in agreement with the first Martial God's words, when another mirage rippled into view.

Her tone was sharply aggressive.

That alone revealed her identity.

"Anger Control Expert, it must be hard for you to acknowledge. After all, your martial art is a solitary path of constant asceticism."

Anger Control Expert snapped fiercely but didn't outright deny it.

Indeed, her unique art, the Blood Burning Tyrant Blade, lived up to its name as a berserker's path, burning her own blood as fuel every moment.

'Come to think of it, she said those with Blood Burning constitutions feel their blood blazing like fire from birth.'

For her, "boiling blood" was no metaphor.

Her blood truly bubbled, granting destructive impulses and self-destructive torment.

Thus, for someone who lived in constant pain, mere endurance didn't score high marks.

But precisely because of that, Eirene shook her head all the more firmly.

"Yet look at yourself now, Anger Control Expert. Has Newbie Mod surrendered his body and soul to flames of rage like you?"

"He never lost his cheerfulness. Not even in his final moment before blacking out from the pain."

She recalled him grinning and dropping terrible puns right up to the end.

Even the indomitable Anger Control Expert fell silent, perhaps struck by the difference upon reflection.

Afterward, more Martial Gods appeared, each offering their two cents.

Some reacted negatively, others with positive expectations, and some neutrally observant.

Eirene Noctua, who had only responded a few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠times at first and then merely listened without further comment, waited until the critiques concluded before cautiously approaching the unconscious Newbie Mod.

She gently scooped him up into her arms.

In the so-called princess carry.

'Yes, opinions are divided now.'

Some gallery dwellers held no expectations.

Others thought, 'He might rise high if he's lucky.'

Having walked different paths of martial enlightenment to reach this point, their perspectives naturally varied.

But,

'It won't take long.'

Before long, those gazes would converge as one.

She would lay the foundation, and at its pinnacle, this man would become another rightful Martial God, acknowledged by all.

With that conviction, Eirene took in the newborn star, fresh from its cataclysm, with her eyes.

"Gasp?!"

He opened his eyes.

What he saw wasn't an unfamiliar ceiling... but the familiar stone one.

A derelict mining village in the mountains of Gangwon Province.

His personal safe house—or shelter—crafted by remodeling part of the underground facilities.

Having awakened here, not in the Eastern-style observatory, meant he'd passed out right there in the arena.

"Did... did I succeed?"

Still feeling like it was a dream, he blinked, sensing an uncanny lightness in his movements.

Usually after a deep sleep, his body felt heavy and sore all over, but now he felt refreshingly buoyant, as if he could fly if he jumped.

Unthinkingly, he leaped up in a sergeant jump from his spot,

Boom—!

"Whoa?!"

only to slam his head into the ceiling about three meters up.

"Arghhh!"

Ow! That hurts too much!

Out of nowhere, he'd botched it and was now rolling on the floor, clutching his head.

He'd hit so hard he worried his skull might crack, and bits of stone rained down from the impact.

Tears welled up, but that confirmed it—the events weren't a dream.

Now he sensed it: in his approximate dantian, a faint but potent energy dwelled, circulating through his body.

This must be the dantian, internal energy, he thought, quickly logging into the Martial God Gallery.

The gallery's mood was in utter chaos.

From the looks of it, quite some time had passed since he blacked out.

Tap tap tap.

He immediately posted a notice.

A post announcing his return.

The comments below were scorching hot.

"12 hours?"

Had he really been out that long?

Only then did he understand why the gallery was in such an uproar.

"In that case, frontal assault is the only answer."

The timing was perfect, so he fired off another notice.

Outraged gallery dwellers piled on at the consecutive notices.

Of course, some questioned the post itself.

Why had he even tried learning martial arts in the first place?

The grim reality he'd momentarily forgotten amid the gallery fun.

Now he had to venture back into it.

He had thrown down his declaration of expedition to the gallery.