The Return of the Martial God
The entire gangho was thrown into shock.
The Demonic Martial Emperor.
The strongest under the heavens.
Hyeolya Cheonma, Ma Heukpung, was dead.
Cause of death: unknown.
Two years after he had ignited the Righteous-Demonic Great War, the conflict came to a hollow end with the death of the Blood Night Heavenly Demon.
Tens of thousands of pyeong of farmland had been burned. Thousands of homes lay in ruins.
Wherever the fighting broke out, the common people shed tears of blood.
When the war finally ended, the ones who smiled first were not the martial artists of the gangho, but the very commoners who had suffered the most.
They cheered the end of the war and immediately set about clearing the scorched fields and rebuilding their homes.
It was the tenth year of Emperor Seonjong’s reign in the Great Ming Dynasty.
The event occurred at the end of March, just as the snow was melting and the Murim Alliance and the Heavenly Demon Cult stood on the brink of a war that would decide their very fates.
Inside Geoncheong Palace of the Forbidden City—a place even the highest-ranking concubines could not enter freely—the Emperor personally filled Dan Hyunwoo’s wine cup.
Dan Hyunwoo simply watched in silence as the cup was filled.
The Emperor let out a shallow sigh at the sight.
For nearly ten years, Dan Hyunwoo had shown no expression other than that blank face.
“Are you truly leaving?” the Emperor asked. “Now that you have removed the Blood Night Heavenly Demon and eased the suffering of the people?”
“Yes.”
The answer was short, but the voice carried absolute resolve.
While the brevity was typical, that firm tone was something the Emperor had not heard in ten years.
Eighteen years had passed since the Emperor had saved Dan Hyunwoo’s life and received his undying gratitude.
Throughout those years, Dan Hyunwoo had led the Emperor’s personal secret organization, the Mumyeongdae, as its commander.
The elite unit of seventy supreme masters, including Dan Hyunwoo himself, had originally possessed no name.
But someone had begun calling it the “Nameless Unit”—Mumyeongdae—and the title simply stuck.
Hiding his frustration, the Emperor emptied his own cup in one gulp. The cup struck the table with a surprisingly loud clack.
“Stay in the palace. From now on, I will not burden you with difficult tasks. You are the one who brought this much stability to the Great Ming. Without you, the peace we enjoy today would never have come. And yet you wish to leave after all the hardship?”
“Yes.”
“From this moment on, I will bring you into the light. I will grant you near-absolute power second only to my own. You have earned that right. Everything anyone could ever desire or dream of now lies before you.”
“That was never why I did any of it.”
“Even if you didn’t wish for it, shouldn’t you now enjoy what is rightfully yours? Thanks to you, the people of the Great Ming have found a land worth living in. The grace the empire owes you is beyond measure.”
“Just as Your Majesty did not bestow benevolence expecting repayment, I acted with the same heart.”
“Is there anyone else in the Great Ming who has accomplished as much as you? Since the founding of our dynasty, only you have achieved such merit. How can you say you need no reward?”
“To me, it would only be a burden.”
“Do you intend to make me a ruler who mistreats his own meritorious subjects?”
“If Your Majesty were that kind of man, I would have left your side long ago.”
Looking at Dan Hyunwoo’s still-expressionless face, the Emperor finally understood.
What this man truly wanted.
From the very beginning, Dan Hyunwoo had never been someone who could be moved by money or power.
Nor had the Emperor ever tried to bind him with such shallow things.
He simply wanted to enjoy the prosperity together.
He wanted to share the new world they had built side by side.
Yet Dan Hyunwoo’s heart would not be moved.
“I will ask one last time. Are you truly leaving? Will you abandon the era of peace you yourself created? You should stay and watch over the new world you brought into being!”
“There are things I must set right.”
“Haa…” A long sigh escaped the Emperor. “To refuse the Emperor’s request so decisively… You really haven’t changed at all.”
The sighs would not stop.
The man who had endured nothing but hardship, the one he trusted most in the world, had lived only in the shadows. He could not even prepare a proper farewell banquet for him.
That was why he could no longer bring himself to say the words to hold him back.
Though it pained him, he had to steel his heart and let him go.
The Emperor took out two items he had prepared in advance and placed them on the table.
A golden plaque engraved with six horses.
And an identity tablet made of pure gold rather than wood.
Those two objects.
To Dan Hyunwoo, who merely stared at them silently, the Emperor spoke.
“At least take these with you. I trust you will not commit the disloyalty of refusing even these.”
“Understood.”
Dan Hyunwoo calmly slipped both plaques into his sleeve. The Emperor closed his eyes, unable to hide his regret.
The man who had stood beside him like heaven-sent fortune from the moment they met. The man who had guided the Great Ming like fate itself.
Losing him felt no different from having his own arms and legs severed.
Yet he knew the time had come to part ways.
“With my power, I can no longer stop you.”
“I am grateful for everything until now.”
Dan Hyunwoo rose to offer a formal bow.
But the Emperor spread his arms and stopped him.
Tears had already gathered in the eyes he had closed moments before.
“Don’t. Please, do not bow to me.”
Having refused the bow, the Emperor instead raised his wine cup.
With eyes brimming with sorrow, he forced a bright voice.
“Before you go, let us part the way we used to in the old days.”
Back when the Emperor had still been a prince.
Or rather, when Dan Hyunwoo had not yet known he was a prince.
Just like the days they had lived like brothers, Dan Hyunwoo briefly returned to that past the Emperor spoke of.
He called out the name he had not uttered in ten years—the Emperor’s true name that no one could ever speak aloud.
“Ju Untheon. This is farewell.”
“Dan Hyunwoo. Even after you leave, do not forget me. Don’t forget to send word from time to time, you heartless friend.”
“You take care as well.”
Dan Hyunwoo lifted his cup and clinked it against the Emperor’s.
With a clear ring, the wine in both cups slid down their throats.
After setting their cups down, the two men clasped hands.
It had been years since their last handshake.
Unlike when they first met, the Emperor’s palms had lost their calluses, while Dan Hyunwoo’s had grown even thicker and harder.
Dan Hyunwoo still looked to be in his early twenties, yet the Emperor’s face showed the fifteen years that had passed, now in his mid-thirties.
But the fact that they were comrades who had walked the same path, and the closest of friends, remained unchanged.
After the handshake, Dan Hyunwoo turned his back and left Geoncheong Palace.
The single man who had received a personal farewell from none other than the Emperor himself—the strongest under heaven, Dan Hyunwoo—thus erased his traces from the Forbidden City.
It was half a year after the Heavenly Demon’s death.
The ship rocked violently atop the surging waves, yet it steadily cut through the rough sea.
The vessel that had set sail from Qinhuangdao in Hebei Province was now heading for Hangzhou.
After a full week aboard, the distant silhouette of Hangzhou finally came into view.
Paradise in the heavens, Suzhou and Hangzhou beneath them.
Hangzhou was so famous and prosperous that the old poem claimed heaven existed above and Suzhou and Hangzhou below. It was more bustling and splendid than even the capital, Beijing.
And now, after twenty long years, that same city was welcoming Dan Hyunwoo back.
A sudden swell of emotion rose in his chest. Dan Hyunwoo bit his lip gently.
It was not because Hangzhou was a dazzling, opportunity-filled land overflowing with wealth and fame.
It was because this was the hometown he still longed for.
Yet it was also the land he had once kicked away and left behind.
Before leaving home as a child, he had told his parents he would become a great martial artist and return in glory.
It had been the age of youthful arrogance and hot-blooded vigor, so he had believed his parents would understand his grand ambition.
But their answer had been completely different from what he expected.
His father, who ran a modest silk shop, had fiercely opposed the idea.
His father, a weaver who produced Hangzhou’s finest silk, had always been a gentle man.
That day, however, was the first time Dan Hyunwoo learned his father could become truly furious.
He had not failed to understand why his father was angry.
By the standards of Hangzhou, their family was neither large nor particularly wealthy.
Instead, they had been a warm and harmonious household.
Warm enough to embrace even a somewhat rebellious teenager like Dan Hyunwoo with love.
Yet that same father had listed nearly twenty reasons why he must not become a martial artist, shouting, “Why would you want to become a murim man!”
The more reasons he added, the more intense the opposition grew, until it erupted into a full-blown fight.
Only now did he understand that it had all come from worry over the brutal, life-risking existence of a martial artist.
But back then, he could not accept those words.
The argument spiraled to extremes.
The impulsive recklessness of adolescence ultimately drove the fight to a catastrophic conclusion.
He had fought with his father and then run away from home.
He swore he would never return until he had fulfilled his dream.
With that stubborn pride pushing at his back, he wandered the Central Plains.
During his travels, he obtained a fateful opportunity and learned a supreme martial art.
Manmu Shingong—the Ten Thousand Martial Divine Art.
Learning that technique had been a continuous string of miracles.
About two months after running away.
While searching for a place to learn martial arts, he was chased by wolves and fled deep into the mountains.
After running for nearly ten li, the five wolves that had chased him relentlessly suddenly stopped in front of a cave hidden behind thick undergrowth.
He never learned why.
Though they drooled hungrily, their ears and tails were tucked in fear.
Realizing they would not approach the cave, he entered.
Inside, he found a skeleton clutching a sword, along with three books.
He could not go back outside.
The wolves took turns waiting for him to emerge.
In the end, he survived on moss and water dripping from the ceiling while learning the Manmu Shingong.
It was the only way to kill the wolves.
A year later, having mastered the divine art through self-study, he buried the skeleton.
Carrying the sword it had held.
When he stepped out of the cave, he slew all five wolves with a single strike.
From then on, he continued wandering the Central Plains.
Not long after, he experienced the fifteenth of the twenty reasons his father had listed for why he must not become a martial artist.
He encountered a group of dozens of heretical cultists.
It had been only a year since he began learning the Manmu Shingong.
There was no chance of victory.
After a desperate battle, he had already suffered grievous, blood-soaked wounds.
That was when a man saved his life.
It was none other than Prince Ju Untheon, who had also been traveling the Central Plains.
Among the princes whose inclinations split between letters and martial arts, Ju Untheon was one who revered the martial path.
His martial arts slaughtered the enemies in an instant.
Though he later showed a scholarly disposition after becoming Emperor, without him that day, there would be no Dan Hyunwoo now.
After that, they traveled the Central Plains together for several years.
The two of them got along perfectly.
Together they crushed black-path murim factions and destroyed bandit strongholds.
Back then, Dan Hyunwoo could never have imagined that the fearless expert swinging his sword at the forefront was actually a prince.
The Emperor’s martial prowess had truly been astonishing.
Having consumed the palace’s precious elixirs as if they were rice, Ju Untheon had already reached the peak of the supreme realm.
Yet during their travels, Dan Hyunwoo’s martial arts surpassed even the prince’s.
Neither of them had expected it.
It was because Dan Hyunwoo possessed a genius talent for martial arts, and because the Manmu Shingong was the greatest art of all time.
In the end, the prince brought Dan Hyunwoo, whose skills were approaching those of the strongest under heaven, back to the Forbidden City.
Only then did Dan Hyunwoo learn that Ju Untheon was a prince.
From that point on, he accepted the fate guided by their bond as heaven’s will and helped place Ju Untheon on the throne.
And after making him Emperor, he wielded his sword to create an era of peace and prosperity.
For ten years, he had fulfilled what he believed to be his heavenly mandate.
For the sake of the friend who had once saved his life.
But accomplishing great deeds also meant killing a corresponding number of people.
His smiles gradually disappeared.
His face remained perpetually expressionless.
And eventually, he grew numb to everything.
The more that happened, the deeper the longing for his family took root in his heart.
When I ran away, I swore I would return in glory as a famous expert. Before that, I even declared I wouldn’t even piss in the direction of Hangzhou.
It felt strange.
The promises and oaths of his childhood.
He had somehow forgotten them.
Yet now, as he returned to the hometown he had left behind, those memories came flooding back vividly.
A homecoming far removed from any glorious return.
He was returning as a fallen martial artist.
Even so, his martial arts had reached the absolute pinnacle.
Even the Heavenly Demon, once called the strongest under heaven, had been no match for Dan Hyunwoo.
Yet he could not reveal those achievements. He was the commander of the Emperor’s secret organization, whose very name and title were classified.
It was unclear whether he had fulfilled his dream or not.
Most likely, the glorious return had not been achieved.
But that did not matter.
What was certain was that he had finally come home.
Now, the family he had missed so desperately was all he wanted to see.
It was not that he felt no hesitation about facing them after all this time.
He might be slapped and cursed at.
It was a house he had walked out of on his own two feet, but this time he might be thrown out.
Still, the emotion burning in his chest pushed him toward home.
Late regret and remorse urged him forward, so he had decided to return to his hometown.
The ship swayed.
It had docked at the pier.
“Hangzhou port! Passengers disembarking, please prepare!”
At the thick accent of the sailor, Dan Hyunwoo, who had been lost in the past, returned to the present.
With only a small bundle as his sole possession, Dan Hyunwoo set foot on Hangzhou soil.
Remorse and regret.
Carrying everything from his past, he stepped onto solid ground.
It was merely the same earth as Beijing, yet why did such deep longing seep from it?
“It must have changed a lot. I wonder if my family will even recognize my face.”
The hometown he had not stepped on in twenty years.
Dan Hyunwoo turned his steps toward the house he still longed for.