The Old Man Who Returned to Simplicity

The old man was the epitome of ordinary.

His presence was so utterly commonplace that it blended perfectly with the passing pedestrians. If anything, it felt almost faint.

…What is this?

Yet my instincts were screaming the opposite.

Even when I sharpened my senses to their limit, I couldn’t detect any notable aura. Nevertheless, my instincts alone kept whispering that the old man standing before me was a true powerhouse.

No way.

In murim tales, there is a state called returning to simplicity.

A realm where one’s martial arts have reached such an absolute peak that, despite transcending the ordinary, the practitioner appears perfectly normal instead.

It’s basically the “hiding your strength” exclusive skill.

Could the old man before me have truly reached that level? It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but…

There is an old murim saying: beware old men, children, and women. Those words do not exist without reason.

While returning to simplicity could be broken through if the opponent was a higher-level expert…

If this old man had genuinely attained that state, it meant he stood at a higher realm than me when I wasn’t using False Rebirth.

An opponent I cannot defeat without activating False Rebirth - False Manifestation.

The correct choice was to play along. I had zero desire to provoke a fight and then suffer the backlash of False Rebirth.

Above all, there were far too many ordinary citizens here. If a battle broke out, countless people would inevitably get caught in the crossfire.

Fortunately, I sensed no particular hostility from the old man.

It feels more like a neighborhood grandpa sticking his nose in out of boredom.

Closer to the feeling that he had simply started talking because he was bored.

“Eh? Why ain’t you saying anything?”

“Ah, yes. It’s my first time in the capital.”

“Looks like you just arrived, eh? What brings you all the way up here?”

“I came to enroll at the Academy.”

The old man burst into hearty laughter once more.

“So you’re not just some little kid—you’re a promising young talent!”

Promising young talent. The term was familiar from the murim novels I used to read, but it wasn’t common language in this world.

The old man glanced at the sword hanging at my waist, curiosity plain on his face.

“You use a sword, I see?”

“Yes. I mainly use a sword.”

“Mainly?”

“I’m good at everything except the things I’m bad at.”

I threw a few quick punches through the air to show that my bare-handed techniques were nothing to scoff at either.

Yet the old man simply smiled with warm affection, as if watching his granddaughter perform a cute trick.

What was this? Had he failed to perceive the numerous profound principles and mysterious truths contained in my fist arts? Was he really just an ordinary old man?

“This old one swung a sword a bit in his younger days as well.”

“Ah, I see.”

Watching him brag about the past in that typical elderly way, it seemed my earlier suspicion had been mistaken.

He was definitely just an ordinary old man.

“So, what was our little miss looking for?”

“These days you’re not supposed to call young women ‘miss,’ sir. People will call you an old fossil.”

Not an old fossil but a boomer? He certainly looked old enough.

“Eh? Then what should I call you?”

Good question. What should I call myself?

No suitable title came to mind, but… I was a demon. The grandfather before me was human.

And demons have far longer lifespans than humans. Maybe if I phrased it like this, he wouldn’t suspect anything?

“Hmm… Just call me noona.”

“…….”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So, what was the young lady looking for?”

The old man blatantly played dumb and repeated the same question.

He had apparently decided to pretend he never heard me.

“Ahem, yeah. This noona is trying to buy an Academy uniform right now. Do you happen to know where I can get one?”

“…For Academy uniforms, you can have one tailored at the shop you see over there.”

“I see. Thank you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jin Muhyeon, sixty-eight years old.”

“Got it. I’m one-hundred-sixty-two-year-old Kim Lena. This noona will definitely repay the favor.”

“…….”

In that moment I was no longer the 162-centimeter Regina Diabolos, but the 162-year-old grandmother Kim Lena.

Considering I couldn’t come up with a proper replacement for “miss,” I had still gone quite far.

Of course, it wasn’t that I was advocating gender equality or pretending to be stupid despite my intelligence.

It was simply that…

Even though I used to be a man, being called “miss” still feels a little weird.

Having Bella call me “miss” was already more than enough.

I had once told Bella not to call me that, but she used it as an excuse to call me “Master” and tried to drag me into weird roleplay, so I eventually gave up.

Still, it was a relief. At least I had found a place that sold Academy uniforms.

“All right, Muhyeon. Thank you once ag—huh?”

When I tried to give my final thanks, the old man had vanished without a trace.

I hadn’t sensed any footsteps walking away, nor any sign of him gathering mana. He had disappeared as suddenly as a snuffed-out flame.

“Wh-what the…”

Was he a ghost? Even if he really was an old expert who had reached the realm of returning to simplicity, could he truly be so utterly undetectable?

Was there really a being powerful enough to completely fool the senses of this Regina Diabolos—future Demon King, Heavenly Demon, Martial God, whose beauty is currently in full bloom and who stands as an absolute legendary expert?

He has to be a ghost.

It was actually scarier if he wasn’t. I had to believe he was a ghost.

An old man who casually walked the imperial capital was stronger than me?

That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠doesn’t make any sense…

How terrifying, this empire. Perhaps this was why it had never fallen to the Outer Gods’ invasion.

After standing there in a daze for a while and hypnotizing myself that the old man had been a ghost or that I had simply hallucinated him, I was finally able to move again.

“I still need to buy the uniform…”

The Academy uniform allowed for free customization.

As long as it displayed the distinctive traits of an Academy student, one could modify it however they wished.

Of course there was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a standard design that many people simply bought as-is, but…

That’s just boring.

I had learned martial arts. I was the successor who inherited the teachings of Namgung Sim, Sosu Manyeo, and many others.

I had no desire to wear ordinary Academy clothes.

I want to stand out.

I want to hide my face but still draw attention. Therefore, I planned to request a customized uniform.

Something like the attire worn by murim warriors. Of course I wouldn’t copy it exactly—I would modify it appropriately.

When I entered the tailor shop the old man had pointed out, I was greeted by the lifeless voice typical of service workers.

“Welcome~.”

“Yep.”

I answered a greeting that didn’t really need answering and slipped inside, where an astonishing sight greeted me.

Wow. It’s a cliché that Academy uniforms are enchanted, but…

I hadn’t expected it to be this much.

The garments hanging everywhere as if on display were all brilliantly enchanted.

I wasn’t well-versed in magic so I couldn’t identify the exact spells, but they probably carried effects like enhanced defense or automatic repair.

Since I’m planning to create a proper Hosin Ganggi for defense soon, that part doesn’t matter much, but…

Automatic repair was tempting. Clothes get torn all the time in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠battle, so having them mend themselves—even if it took a while—was an incredible advantage.

It meant I wouldn’t have to keep buying replacements.

Just remembering the day I fought both the Mad Dragon and the Thunder Emperor at once made my face burn with embarrassment.

My clothes were completely shredded. I basically fought half-naked.

It was a blessing that the parts covering the important areas hadn’t torn.

Still, thinking about standing outside in that state…

Sob sob. Lena can never get married now.

Not that I had any intention of getting married anyway.

I was wandering around, curiously examining the unfamiliar yet fascinating garments, when another customer caught my eye.

“Woah.”

She was so beautiful the thought came naturally. Roughly 0.89 Lena?

White hair and eyes with a faint blue tint. She looked exactly like the image that came to mind when one thought of a snow woman.

Moreover, the aura she gave off was both powerful and chilling—far from ordinary.

Perhaps because I hadn’t even thought to conceal my presence and was staring openly, she noticed my gaze, turned her head, and our eyes met.

We simply stared at each other like that for a long time.

She must be admiring my beauty as well.

They say shared empathy creates common ground. And since we shared the common ground of being peerless beauties, we continued exchanging gazes for quite a while.

Why is she staring at me like that?

Serenia, the Northern Archduchess who had been active on the northern frontline until recently, had come to purchase her Academy uniform.

Yet another customer had approached right beside her and was now staring intently.

“Woah.”

And she was even letting out such a primitive, monkey-like reaction.

Do I look ridiculous to her?

Serenia felt a surge of irritation inside but did not let her anger show.

The noble Archduchess of the North could not possibly lose her temper over something so trivial.

It was the pride she had to uphold as the successor of the Ernoer family that had guarded the North for generations.

Suddenly, she recalled what the Northern Archduke—her father—had told her before she left for the capital.

At the time she had thought it was nonsense, but her opinion had changed during the journey.

The reactions of those who recognized her had done that.

The family’s honor.

Every single gesture, action, and word from Serenia in public was directly tied to the family’s honor.

For ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the sake of the family if not herself, she could not behave as barbarically as she did in the North.

Therefore, Serenia suppressed her discomfort as much as possible and spoke carefully.

“…Is something the matter?”

“You’re incredibly beautiful!”

“Thank you…”

Was that why she had been staring so intrusively this whole time? The distance was so close that Serenia could even feel the girl’s breath.

Only then did Serenia properly look at the girl’s face.

…She really is pretty.

But to Serenia, standards of beauty held no meaning. Having grown up on the front lines, what mattered most to her was a different metric.

The measure of strength.

In that regard, the woman before her easily earned a passing grade.

…She’s strong. Terrifyingly so.

She was radiating a ferocious amount of magi at a level that could startle even Serenia.

However, judging by her goofy and somewhat stupid-looking expression, it didn’t seem like she was releasing her magi with any particular intent.

Is this much magi simply leaking out naturally…?

Then she truly was a monster.

Moreover, looking at her appearance reminded Serenia of someone the Sword Ghost Kallan had once mentioned.

Obsidian-black horns and hair. Blood-red eyes.

A beauty so captivating it could instantly enchant even soldiers, paired with skin like white jade.

And the overwhelming magi that constantly leaked out because she could not contain it.

Kallan had said the monster had toyed with him without even using her full power.

The Black Light Witch.

The moment she saw the woman before her, that name flashed through Serenia’s mind, but she soon shook her head.

For one thing, the girl had no horns.

And she looks too stupid.

She looked like an idiot.