Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Martial God of Saibang
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The winds of Saibang cut like knife blades.
The northern chill, impossible to fend off with the thin robes of a mere scholar who once wielded only a brush, pierced straight to the bone.
Master Chae, the great scholar exiled to Saibang, didn't even bother brushing the frost from his whitening beard. He simply stared blankly and helplessly at the carnage unfolding below the city walls.
The Wuhuan Tribe had raided the borderlands once again.
Hundreds of barbarian cavalrymen, their hair streaming like horse manes, kicked up clouds of dust as they ravaged the villages.
The screams of fleeing villagers mingled with the thunder of plunderers' hooves trampling the farmlands.
The warning drums echoing from the walls rang hollow, and the soldiers of Bing Province who had sortied were already fleeing with tails tucked.
"How... how can we abandon them like this!"
Master Chae bit his lip in frustration. But the old soldier, long accustomed to such sights, merely shook his head.
"You're from the capital, so it's natural you wouldn't know. Those aren't men—they're beasts. Be grateful they can't climb the walls."
The old soldier's words were cold truth.
The central court's authority had long been eroded by the Ten Attendants' games, and the warlords meant to guard the frontiers were too busy filling their own pockets.
In the end, the price for it all was paid in the blood and tears of the powerless masses.
"Ah... I sought only to correct the court's corruption... but this is all the sin of we officials."
A sigh escaped Master Chae's lips unbidden.
His heart ached more for the villagers dying before his eyes than for his own exile or shattered convictions.
It was right then, as he thought all was lost and hope gone, that a red dot appeared on the horizon.
At first, he thought it a trick of the eye. But the dot swelled impossibly fast, racing toward them. When its shape finally resolved, everyone atop the walls held their breath.
A horse like blazing flame, and atop it a warrior massive as a mountain.
Followed by a mere dozens of cavalry.
"W-what... what is that?!"
Master Chae rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
Dozens charging headlong into a death trap swarming with hundreds of Wuhuan riders.
"Madness! How can they charge into that wolf pack with just dozens! That's not courage—it's recklessness!"
Master Chae cried out in shock.
Their charge wasn't battle; it was suicide. He expected despair or pity from the onlookers.
But something was off.
The faces of the villagers below, those who hadn't made it inside the walls, showed no fear or hopelessness.
The wrinkled face of an elder, the dust-caked eyes of a village woman, the expression of a child who should have been terrified—all bore a strange faith and relief.
"...?"
As Master Chae puzzled over the inexplicable scene,
"Waaaaah—!"
A thunderous cheer erupted from the villagers' throats, not screams.
Drawn like a moth to flame, Master Chae turned back to the battlefield. What he witnessed was a sight no brush or ink, no words, could ever capture in a lifetime.
The general on the red horse led the vanguard, plunging into the Wuhuan formation and tearing it apart.
Like a massive red awl piercing thick paper, the dozens moved as one blade.
Each sweep of the leader's spear in a wide arc sent three or four Wuhuan riders tumbling in a spray of blood mist.
The Wuhuan cavalry struck back, but their blades never reached his armor—their wielders died first.
The horde of hundreds crumbled before that single warrior like a lie.
And then came the slaughter. One-sided, overwhelming butchery.
Master Chae couldn't close his gaping mouth. His trembling hands gripped the wall.
"That... that man... who is he...?"
No one could answer Master Chae's question. They only cheered at the spectacle before them.
Fuck, they're raiding again.
I'd lost track of how many years it'd been since I opened my eyes here. Quit counting long ago.
At first, I thought it a dream. Or that I'd gone mad. But when limbs flew and blood splattered my face from dying people, reality hit hard.
This was real. A shitty, godawful reality.
My knowledge of history? Liu Bei, Cao Cao, Sun Quan. That was it. A few games of Romance of the Three Kingdoms—that's my full expertise. What more do you want?
Only later did I piece together that this was the late Eastern Han, and I'd somehow ended up in the body of Lü Bu, the poster boy for betrayal.
I tried to tough it out at first. Live quietly, defy history as little as possible, and die of old age.
Bullshit.
Bandits slaughtered villagers. Officials never showed. Survivors turned cannibal in starvation.
On the frontiers, barbarians raided whenever bored, killing and burning everything.
A world of endless death. Eventually, I just snapped.
"Fuck it! If it's like this, I'll kill 'em all myself!"
Once decided, it got easier. No need for complicated thoughts.
Bad guys show up? Kill 'em.
Raiders come? Kill 'em.
Tormenting villagers? Hunt 'em down and kill 'em.
Everything simplified after that. While I was at it, killing away, a soldier rushed up with urgent news.
"General! Wuhuan bastards! They're hitting the villages again...!"
Before his report finished, my body moved. I yanked free the red horse—now feeling like an extension of me—and mounted up.
"What're you slugs doing? Move your asses!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
The slackers snapped to attention.
"Everyone, charge!"
"Wait, bro! You can't go alone! We're with you!"
Wei Sok screamed from behind, scrambling to rally the troops, form ranks, blah blah. The guy always talked too much.
"Shut up and follow, damn it!"
The horse reared with a roar the instant I gripped the reins, bolting forward.
Dozens of hooves thundered after, shaking the earth. But all I heard was my pounding heart and the rush of wind.
How far did we ride?
The Wuhuan scum came into view. Torching villages, raping women, dragging kids' corpses from their saddles—beasts in human skin.
Revulsion twisted my gut.
"Raaaargh!"
I roared wordlessly and plunged into their midst. They fumbled for weapons in panic, but too late.
The spear in my hand wasn't just a weapon. It was made for carving up beasts.
—Crunch!
The feel of bone and flesh parting raced up my arm.
Riders lurching riderless, throats half-severed, reduced to tumbling meat without a scream.
Counterattacks? Sure.
But their blades never touched my armor—my spear pierced their necks first.
By the time Wei Sok and the men caught up, the field was nearly cleared. I just mopped up survivors.
"Hah... hah..."
Ragged breaths burst out as it ended.
The ground was a hellscape of blood and bodies. Surviving villagers approached, bowing, weeping thanks. Their words didn't register.
I didn't kill for hero worship. Just rage at this fucked-up world.
"Clean up and head back to the city."
I slung the dripping spear over my shoulder and wheeled my horse.
"Waaah! Long live! Long live!"
"Th-thank you!"
The gates opened to cheers from the crowds. Awe and fear mixed on their faces. Familiar scene.
Then,
Amid the throng, one old man stood out.
A noble scholar, out of place amid the blood and dirt.
He neither cheered nor cowered. Just stared at me in utter disbelief.
"...?"
Something about his gaze stuck in my mind.
The warrior on the red horse pierced the cheering crowd and vanished inside.
The roars faded, but the heat lingered around the walls.
Master Chae leaned shakily against the bloodstained parapet, trying to shake the scene from his mind.
Supernatural prowess beyond human limits.
An overwhelming presence shredding hundreds single-handed.
And the absolute faith on the villagers' faces as they watched.
'Who... who is he? The realm's in chaos, but no such man could be buried on the frontier.'
He prided himself on knowing the world's talents from lifelong study, yet he'd never seen this warrior.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Master Chae approached the old soldier still gazing excitedly at the field.
"Who was that warrior just now?"
The old soldier glanced over, eyes wide with surprise—like, you don't know him?
"You've only just arrived in Saibang, so I get it... but capital folk wouldn't know frontier scum like us anyway."
Cynicism and pride laced his voice. He jerked his chin toward where the warrior had gone.
"He's the Martial God sent from heaven. Without him, Saibang would've been barbarian playground long ago."
"Martial God? Isn't that exaggeration?"
"Exaggeration? Hah! After seeing it yourself? Everyone thought like you at first—some rootless wanderer. But he proved it with actions, not words. Bandits show? He charges first, snaps their necks. Barbarians raid? He appears like a ghost and butchers them."
A village woman nearby chimed in.
"That's right! The officials only squeeze taxes. Our lives are like flies to them... but he never abandons us."
Not everyone sang praises. A merchant in the corner spoke cautiously.
"Of course we're grateful he protects us... but his temper's like fire. Once angered, no one stops him. Just recently... ahem, he hung a troublesome soldier from the walls."
Fear, awe, absolute trust.
The frontier folk saw him as their sole hope.
Master Chae swallowed dryly and asked the key question.
"So... what's his name?"
The old soldier straightened proudly, introducing him like his own lord.
"His surname is Lü, given name Bu."
"...Lü Bu, Lü Bu..."
Master Chae rolled the name on his tongue.
Lü Bu.
Fitting—a name meaning "to spread wings."
Unconsciously, he clenched his fist.
Corrupt court, inept officials, suffering people. And this mystery man saving it all by force.
'I must meet him.'
Now realizing the folly of righting the world with brush and words. Perhaps this man held the key to ending the chaos.