Beyond the Heavens
A thousand years in the Murim.
Another thousand in this Demonic Realm. In all, two thousand years had drifted past like smoke.
“…Must you truly depart, my Lord?”
The woman kneeling before me was Gremory, one of Solomon’s seventy-two demon lords. A duchess’s coronet rested at her waist, and lustrous scarlet hair cascaded straight past her hips.
I gave no answer.
“I implore you once more,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with theatrical grief. “Do not abandon us, I beg of you!”
“…I am not abandoning you.”
“Then why…”
“I am human. Therefore, my life ought to be finite.”
At my words, Gremory’s face contorted in sheer horror.
“D-Do you mean… you truly intend to cast aside eternal life? Immortality itself?!”
“If it is possible.”
“You must not! Even if such a thing were possible, it would mean only eternal oblivion—the total erasure of your very existence!”
“……”
I closed my eyes slowly, letting the distant past wash over me.
When I was ten years old, clutching my newborn baby sister in my arms, I had climbed up to a mountain temple rumored to care for orphans. I did it for one simple reason: to keep from being separated from her. Years slipped by; I turned twenty, and she reached ten.
And in that tenth year, for reasons no one could fathom, I was summoned across dimensions to another realm.
That realm was the Murim.
There, I was nothing more than an ordinary third-rate martial artist. Clogged with the turbid impurities accumulated from modern Earth, my body could never hope to cultivate advanced martial arts. So, I merely endured, surviving day to day.
Then, one day, I realized something was terribly wrong.
At first, I thought I simply had a youthful face. But forty came and went, then fifty, and my physical body remained completely frozen in time. In the martial world, there existed an art known as the Art of Youthful Countenance—a technique that used internal energy to preserve one's outward vigor. But I had virtually no internal energy to speak of. Seeing my unchanging visage, those around me gradually grew suspicious, whispering that I was an elder of the Demonic Cult in disguise.
In the end, hunted by the very comrades I had worked beside for a lifetime, I fled deep into the mountains.
Decades drifted past in seclusion. An ageless body. Yet surely agelessness did not mean immortality. Resigned, I simply spent each day in the wilderness until, to my astonishment, I realized a trickle of internal energy had begun to pool within my dantian. The rudimentary Three Talents Mental Cultivation Method, a dirt-cheap manual I had bought in some marketplace long ago, had actually generated internal power through endless, mindless repetition.
By the time I finally stepped back into the world, an age had passed. I had crossed the threshold of a hundred years, and from that day forward, I ceased counting my age.
Though I now possessed internal energy, my martial prowess remained mediocre—at best somewhere between first-rate and the peak realm. Just average. I wandered the breadth of the land, unable to linger in any single place for long. Every five or ten years, I packed up and moved on.
Another century passed.
Even mediocrity ceases to be mediocre before the relentless tide of time. Accumulating a full cycle—sixty years—of pure internal energy, I broke beyond the peak realm. I possessed the might to lead an entire sect, standing in the realm of transcendent masters, as everyone proclaimed with awe.
Another hundred years slipped away.
I ascended to the Transformation Realm. At such heights, concealing my identity became impossible; people recognized me by my martial arts alone. Rumors of my existence eventually reached the Imperial Palace. Like the First Emperor of Qin, the Emperor coveted eternal youth and immortality.
I refused his summons. How could I grant his desire when I didn't even understand the nature of my own agelessness?
Spurned, he dispatched the Imperial Army to capture me. Ten thousand strong, many among them trained in martial arts. Had I, having reached the zenith of the Transformation Realm, set my mind to slaughtering them, I certainly could have. But I had no desire to butcher innocent soldiers who were merely following orders.
So I left, retreating far away toward the Hundred Thousand Mountains.
The Hundred Thousand Mountains—the domain where the Demonic Cult gathered. Even the Imperial Army dared not tread there. Yet the Heavenly Demon Cult hardly welcomed my intrusion either. Naturally, we clashed.
Survival of the fittest. The logic of the Demonic Cult was delightfully simple: the strong rule as masters, and the weak serve as slaves.
And so, I fought the cult leader known as the Heavenly Demon for seven days and seven nights. Our martial arts were evenly matched, both of us standing at the absolute pinnacle of the Transformation Realm. That seven-day duel reshaped the surrounding topography. Earth cleaved open, mountain streams evaporated into steam, and ancient forests were uprooted down to the last weed. Cultists lacking sufficient internal power collapsed with internal injuries merely from watching the shockwaves from afar.
On the final day, the Heavenly Demon proved why he bore that title. His techniques were far more refined than mine, his martial efficiency vastly superior. If I held any advantage at all, it was simply that centuries of wandering had granted me richer combat experience.
Yet the duel was decided by something entirely unexpected.
Having battled for seven grueling days, our internal energy ran dry, and the destructive potency of our techniques naturally waned. Seeing the storm subside, ordinary cultists began creeping closer to watch.
Then the Heavenly Demon unleashed his final supreme technique.
In that split second, both our gazes locked onto a single spot.
“N-No, wait—!” the Heavenly Demon gasped in horror.
The crimson sword astral he had discharged grazed past me, hurtling straight toward a cluster of helpless commoners who knew no martial arts at all. The cult's palace masters spectating the duel leapt forward, but they were far too distant.
Why did I do it? My body simply moved before thought could take hold.
I threw myself in front of the Heavenly Demon's crimson astral blade.
A thunderous boom shattered the air. A ragged cough tore from my lungs as my energy channels twisted into agony, and blood gushed up my throat in a violent heave. Severe internal damage. Unable to hold myself upright, I slumped to my knees, frozen in the dirt, feeling the hilt of my sword slipping through my trembling fingers.
“…M-Mister, are you okay?”
A little girl, perhaps ten years old. I caught a glimpse of her chubby, adorable cheeks.
Ah… So that was it.
She had reminded me of the little sister I had left behind in my hometown. With that fleeting realization, darkness swallowed me whole.
I had no idea how many days drifted by before I finally opened my eyes. Sitting before me was a middle-aged man—the Heavenly Demon. He took me in as family. He even bestowed upon me the undeserved title of Vice Cult Leader. My only real duty was to spar with him whenever the mood struck.
An age passed like that. Along the way, there were several clashes with the orthodox Murim Alliance. At times we signed peace treaties, exchanging supplies and trading goods.
Time marched on.
Eventually, the day arrived for the Heavenly Demon—who had attained the Mystic Realm long before me—to ascend. "Ascension to immortality." A poet’s euphemism for becoming an immortal, but in plain terms, it simply meant dropping dead. Even a grandmaster of the Mystic Realm could not live past a hundred and fifty years. It was only natural.
From that day, I became the Heavenly Demon.
Several generations of subordinates had already come and gone beneath me. While I accepted the mantle of the Heavenly Demon, I refused the administrative seat of Cult Leader. I remained a mere figurehead—the guardian deity of the Heavenly Demon Cult. For centuries, I watched over them.
Then, one day, I glimpsed the end of my road there.
Whether there existed a realm beyond the Mystic Realm, I knew not. Perhaps I had surpassed it long ago. Passing the mantle of the Heavenly Demon to my late friend's descendant, the contemporary cult leader, I departed. I harbored a faint hope that breaking through the void would return me to Earth.
Yet the destination that awaited me was not Earth.
It was the Demonic Realm—the land where demons dwell.
Life in the Demonic Realm was surprisingly manageable.
The demons and demonic beasts that swarmed from all directions made for splendid sources of internal energy. Every single day they threw themselves at me, and every single day I devoured them where they stood. Their demonic energy directly converted into internal power.
One day, I realized I had no further need to grow stronger. That was right after I had chewed through and swallowed all seventy-two demon lords of Solomon. Ah, not literally gnawing on their flesh, mind you. I merely absorbed their demonic energy down to the last scrap.
From that day, I became the Demon King. Or rather, I had them address me as the Demon Exalted.
And so life ground on.
Looking at demons and demonic beasts day in and day out, what little humanity I had left withered away to almost nothing. In truth, ever since I reached the Mystic Realm and first claimed the title of Heavenly Demon, barely any humanity had remained. At some point, killing had ceased to stir even a ripple of emotion within me.
Then, a sudden chill of dread struck me.
If this goes on, will I never be able to live as a human again?
Fortunately, it was the Demonic Cult that had provided the solution. I possessed an art capable of sealing away aspects of my psyche—preserving, at the very least, the personality from the days when I still felt like a human being.
Today, as always, Gremory arrived atop her red camel. She had dressed up with painstaking care, as she did every day. Sometimes she donned the robes of a heroic Murim swordswoman; at other times, she styled herself after a twenty-first-century girl group idol whose image had long faded in my memory. In her own mind, she seemed convinced I had a penchant for such spectacles.
Yet, after absorbing the demonic energy of all seventy-two demon lords, my mortal body had failed to withstand the strain. My physical flesh had dissolved that very day, reborn purely as a spiritual existence. In other words, my true body was merely an ethereal spirit. My mortal vessel had turned to a handful of dust eons ago. Naturally, I possessed neither attraction, nor passion, nor lust for the fair sex.
She, being an immortal demon, ought to be no different—so why on earth did she mimic humans day after day?
“…Demon Exalted. We have found a way.”
“A way?”
“Indeed! We have at last uncovered the dimensional coordinates leading to your esteemed homeland. Rejoice, my Lord!”
She dropped gracefully to her knees, her flushed cheeks beaming with pure jubilation.
“You mean I can return?”
“It is so. However…”
“Speak.”
“You cannot descend in your true form. You must drastically lower your stature and manifest through an avatar.”
Fair enough. Descending upon Earth in my current state would herald nothing less than the planet's utter annihilation. I had long since become a transcendent being—a sky beyond the heavens.
“Fine. I shall go via an avatar.”
“Furthermore… the duration… is tragically short.”
Short?
While my martial prowess eclipsed theirs, they far surpassed me in the ways of sorcery and magic. Their calculations were indisputable.
“…It matters not. All I wish is to look after the life of the family I left behind so long ago, and then return.”
“Ah…” Gremory’s expression bloomed with ecstasy. “Then I shall immediately prepare the vessel for your incarnation!”
Blushing radiantly, she rose to her feet.
“How long can I stay? And besides… it has been two thousand years since I left. On Earth, surely…”
“Worry not, my Lord! Though time between dimensions flows in the same direction, the disparity is stark. According to our calculations… ten years. Only ten years have passed in your homeland.”
Ten years. Then the people I yearned for would still be alive.
A bitter smile crept across my face. By all rights, this was news worth rejoicing over, yet I could no longer remember what joy felt like, or what longing truly was. My heart remained numb. Only an unyielding obsession to return had survived.
“Very well. And how long may I linger?”
“…I tremble in dread to confess it… A mere… a-a hundred years…! Strike us down for our incompetence, I beg of you!”
“……”
I genuinely began to wonder if these demons had the faintest clue how long a human being actually lived.
I departed the Demonic Realm that very day. Most of Solomon’s seventy-two demons, having suffered daily beatings at my hands, practically wept with joy to see me leave. Yet a few genuinely lamented my absence—especially Gremory, who bawled her enormous eyes out in torrents of tears. She was a demon; she wasn't supposed to possess human emotions. I couldn't help but wonder if she was simply putting on an Oscar-worthy performance for my benefit.
And thus, I descended upon Earth.
I couldn’t plunge straight onto the surface, of course. In the stratosphere, I transferred my consciousness into the avatar, leaving my true body safely anchored in the sub-space of the cosmos.
Thump—! Thump, thump!
A heart was beating. Blood surged through veins once more, and a tempest of biological hormones ran wild within my new flesh.
Joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure. The five desires and seven emotions.
All of it crashed over me like a tidal wave. My breath caught in my throat before I could stop it. Endorphins spiked. Adrenaline surged. And above all else… an insane, ravenous appetite washed over me.
This had to be dealt with first.
“…Is the realm of this avatar roughly at the peak of the Transformation Realm? Hmm…”
I lightly circulated my internal energy through the meridians. Well, it was serviceable enough.
Grumble!
My stomach roared. Scanning my surroundings, my eyes caught a familiar illuminated sign in the distance: GU.
A convenience store!
Convenience store food, for the first time in two thousand years! Saliva flooded my mouth unbidden. Finding my family could wait until after I filled my belly.
I sprinted toward the convenience store.
Whoosh!
The air cleaved open. The sheer sonic backlash tore a sturdy shop signboard clean off its mounts.
Crash!
“Holy crap, is that a typhoon?! What the hell was that?!”
“…Where did a gust like that even come from…?”
Pedestrians murmured in shock. Realizing my blunder, I forced myself to slow down to a leisurely stroll.
Ding-dong~
The automatic sliding doors chimed as I entered. Rows upon rows of food, a sight unseen in two millennia. In the Murim, I had at least eaten normal meals, but in the Demonic Realm, I had subsisted purely on a diet of raw demonic energy.
The moment my eyes laid upon the shelves stacked high with packaged goods, an unbearable, primal hunger seized me.
What should I dig into first?