I'll Overturn Everything
A breath escaped Tang Cheonwi’s lips.
That breath laid waste to everything around him.
“Hooo.”
Trees, grass, stone—even the corpses strewn across the ground. All of it melted away.
“So they all turned their backs on him, did they?”
The ones he had slain wore green robes: the uniform of the Sichuan Tang Clan, hailed as the greatest under heaven. He had killed them, and he did not care in the least.
“There he is…”
He turned his head. Without even using light footwork, he began walking slowly toward a certain place.
A burning hall. Before the Black Dragon Hall, residence of the number one under heaven, a man of wretched appearance knelt on his knees.
Tang Cheonwi spat a curse at him.
“You fucking idiot.”
Perhaps the man heard. The one who had been hanging his head managed, with great effort, to look up.
“Bro…ther…”
The man’s name was Tang Yuhyeon. Clan Lord of the Great Sichuan Tang Clan, the greatest master in the clan’s history, and the martial artist the jianghu called the youngest number one under heaven.
“What the hell kind of state is this for the one they call the Dark Emperor?”
“You’ve… come…”
At the sight of him, Tang Yuhyeon forced a smile. It was a pitiful expression, utterly unsuited to the title of number one under heaven.
“Who was it? Those damned elders? Or those bastards who aren’t even brothers to you?”
“…Please don’t get so angry.”
“You idiot—are you still trying to cover for them?!”
Bang!
The instant murderous green energy erupted from Tang Cheonwi’s body, the surroundings were reduced to scorched earth. Yet the space where he and Tang Yuhyeon stood remained untouched. Even while baring his rage, he had shielded his younger brother.
“…Please… *cough cough*… calm yourself, Brother…”
Tang Yuhyeon vomited black blood. Bits of his organs were mixed in it.
“Don’t tell me… it’s the Soul Destroying Poison that’s been plaguing the martial world lately?”
“…It seems so, *cough cough*!”
The man poured his internal energy into Tang Yuhyeon. The younger man’s face eased a fraction; then he looked apologetic.
“I’m sor…ry…”
“I didn’t leave the entire Tang Clan in your hands just so I could hear that kind of crap.”
“…I have no face left…”
“Still not going to name the ones behind this?”
“….”
Tang Yuhyeon sealed his lips. He could not speak. The moment he did, the Tang Clan his brother both loved and hated would vanish forever. Of course, even if he stayed silent his brother would find the culprits anyway.
And sure enough—
“Fine. If you won’t open your mouth, I’ll just have to hear their voices myself.”
Boom!
Tang Cheonwi stamped his foot. Cracks raced across the floor beneath him, then shattered completely—
KRA-BOOM!
With a thunderous roar the ground erupted. In that same instant—
“Ghk—!”
“Aaaagh!”
“Uweeeek!”
Screams poured out from every direction.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you rats hiding like this?”
His green eyes flashed. The bodies of those writhing in agony slowly rose into the air at the same time—Peak-level aerial object manipulation. Nearly ten people thrashed helplessly as he approached and tore away their masks.
“The collateral branch.”
He never forgot a face once he had seen it. These were people he had glimpsed in childhood. He moved to the next masked figure and ripped the cloth from his face.
“As expected—it was those half-blood bastards’ side.”
Tang Cheonwi’s expression turned lethally cold. His younger brother had been betrayed by the very family he had protected. From the moment he had cut down the ambushers upon entering the clan grounds, he had already expected as much.
“You lot touched someone you never should have touched.”
His green eyes flashed once more.
Crack!
The bodies floating in midair twisted at grotesque angles. They never even managed a scream; with a soft hiss of poison qi, they dissolved without leaving a trace of form.
Having disposed of the traitors, the man spoke to Tang Yuhyeon.
“I’ve told you time and again. Watch out for those damned elders and those bastards who aren’t even of the same blood.”
Besides the moniker Dark Emperor, Tang Yuhyeon was also known by another epithet: Dark Night Sovereign—the gentleman who ruled the dark night. It was never a good title. In this brutal world of blades and blood, it was a name he did not need.
“It’d be better if you were as rotten-hearted as those bastards. Then at least you wouldn’t have been betrayed the way you were.”
“My nature is… what can I do about it being like this, *cough cough*…”
“You fool.”
Tang Cheonwi barely held back the torrent of curses he wanted to unleash. This was his only little brother. The boy who had always followed him was dying, and he could not even save him.
“Haah… Yuhyeon.”
Tang Cheonwi called his brother’s name.
“…Yes, Bro… *cough cough*…ther…”
“The only thing I can do for you now is end your suffering.”
“I entrust it… to you…”
Black blood streamed from Tang Yuhyeon’s mouth. That was not all; poison qi was seeping from every pore of his body. He was already completely consumed by the Soul Destroying Poison.
Toward that younger brother, Tang Cheonwi stretched out his hand.
“Just think of it as a fucking shitty dream.”
Tang Yuhyeon forced a blood-stained smile, hoping his elder brother would not hurt because of him.
“Yes… Brother…”
“In the next life, I won’t leave you alone like this.”
“…Thank you.”
“See you again.”
Green radiance burst from Tang Cheonwi’s palm. The moment that energy touched him, Tang Yuhyeon was gone.
“Those fucking bastards dared to lay a hand on my little brother?”
Tang Cheonwi’s green eyes blazed. Explosive power erupted from his body once more. As the green energy seized the surroundings, the ruined grounds became a barren wasteland in an instant. Rotten trees, the marble paving the floor, the towering halls—everything vanished.
“When I go back, I’ll overturn every last thing.”
Gritting his teeth, he reached for the ring on his finger. Or rather, he was about to touch it when someone’s voice reached him.
[Won’t you regret it?]
There was no one around. The voice came from the ring.
[All the internal energy and martial arts you built with such hardship will vanish completely.]
“Lost power can be built again.”
[You’ll have to endure the pain you’ve already suffered once more—maybe even twice as much. You still don’t care?]
“If it means I can slaughter the ones who made Yuhyeon die in agony, that kind of pain? I can go through it a thousand times over.”
His brother had been a foolish, simple-minded boy. Unlike him, the child had been upright, the one who always obeyed their father. The same younger brother who had always stepped forward as a shield whenever he was scolded—he had been forced to cut that brother’s life short himself.
Did anyone know how fucking sickening that felt?
Even if he killed every last traitor, he doubted the rage would cool. To keep them from ever crawling up before their master again, he would have to go back to the past and slaughter even the traitors’ servants. Only then might this boiling murderous intent subside.
[That’s just like you.]
“Will you send me to the past?”
The ring on his finger was one of the Three Great Treasures of the martial world—the ring that was said to grant any wish: Hwancheonjihwan, the Ring of Returning Heaven.
[If your will is strong enough, I’ll grant your wish. Oh—and keep in mind that all my memories will vanish as well.]
“…Fine.”
[Next time I might not open my heart so easily.]
“I’ll try harder.”
[I’ll be waiting, friend.]
The moment Hwancheonjihwan’s voice ended, light wrapped around Tang Cheonwi.
It felt as though he had dreamed a long, long dream. His mind was hazy; his body seemed to float. Then someone appeared to be calling him.
“…Young Master.”
The voice was cautious, but he could not make it out clearly.
“Young Master, you must wake up.”
Now he heard it properly. When he forced his heavy eyelids open, a tearful face came into view.
“Pyeongchil?”
“This lowly one is Pyeongchil, yes.”
It was not only Pyeongchil; the entire room filled his vision.
“This is my room from when I was young.”
“You mustn’t keep sleep-talking, Young Master. Have you forgotten what day it is today?”
“Of course I know. It’s the day of that damned Poison Blood Rite.”
The Poison Blood Rite: a ceremony in which one entered a space saturated with poison and remained there for seven days and nights. It was the Tang Clan’s ritual for forging poison bodies among both the direct and collateral lines.
“So you must hurry and prepare to go, Young Master.”
Pyeongchil fretted. If they were late to the Poison Blood Rite, he was the one who would be beaten—the servant who had failed to attend the Young Master. That was why he looked ready to cry.
The Young Master, Tang Cheonwi, however, remained perfectly at ease.
“Heh. Of all days, I return on the day of the Poison Blood Rite… Should I call this good luck, or bad?”
He had failed to become a poison body during that rite. The ones who had succeeded were his younger brother Tang Yuhyeon and his half-brothers.
Back then I was cultivating the wrong internal energy method, so of course it went that way.
In his childhood he had practiced the Returning Origin Heart Method, transmitted only to the direct line. Yet the method had never suited him. It focused on projectile arts and swordsmanship; he possessed no talent for either. No—calling him a dullard would have been fair. In exchange, he had been born with an innate genius for handling poison. That was why a method centered on projectiles and the sword had never matched him. A pearl necklace on a pig’s neck—that expression fit perfectly.
“This time I’ll completely absorb that damned Poison Blood Pond and shove it down their throats, heh heh.”
The site of the Poison Blood Rite was called the Poison Blood Pond. At present, the only Tang clansman who had obtained a poison body there was his younger brother Tang Yuhyeon; the half-brothers would acquire theirs later. He intended to cut them off in advance. He could already picture the faces the family and those bastards would make.
“This’ll be fun.”
Pyeongchil was still troubled by the Young Master muttering strange things from the bed.
“Please, Young Master… Even if we leave now we’re late. All the family elders are waiting, so you must depart at once.”
Pyeongchil pleaded. If they delayed any longer it would not end with a caning. He might even receive the punishment for ruining the Poison Blood Rite in his master’s place. The hearts of the Tang Clan were pure venom; there was no middle ground with them.
While he wore that tearful expression, Tang Cheonwi called him.
“Pyeongchil.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“How many years have we been together?”
“Since the time of the First Madam. But why do you ask, Young Master?”
“It’s been quite a long while.”
His bond with Pyeongchil stretched back to the days of his late mother. After she passed, Pyeongchil had taken her place and devoted every ounce of himself.
“It’s been over ten years already. Young Master, you are like a blood relative to me—more than merely my master.”
“I thought of you as family too.”
“I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that you think of me so, Young Master.”
Pyeongchil offered a good-natured smile. To Tang Cheonwi he had been a friend, almost an older brother.
“But then why did you do it?”
“Pardon?”
In that instant Tang Cheonwi’s voice turned ice-cold.
“Why did you report every single move Yuhyeon and I made to Hongseojae?”
Hongseojae was the residence of the Clan Lord’s second wife. At the mention of that name, Pyeongchil floundered.
“H-Hongseojae? Reporting the two of you’s actions?! That’s preposterous, Young Master!”
Anyone would play dumb when accused without evidence. He would have done the same.
“Even if you deny it, my mind won’t change.”
Somehow the Tang Cheonwi who had been sitting on the bed was already down; he seized Pyeongchil by the nape of the neck.
“Guh—!”
“If you were going to betray me, you should never have gotten caught.”
“Khhhk…!”
Pyeongchil’s face flushed deep red.
“I-It’s unjust, Young… Master…!”
He was still lying.
“You said the same thing the first time I caught you. Do you know how hard that was for me back then?”
He had believed the only person he could trust in the entire clan was his younger brother Yuhyeon.
“Ugh… Young Mas…ter… Let go of this hand…”
“Don’t feel wronged. There’ll be a mountain of bastards following after you soon enough.”
Tang Cheonwi began to tighten his grip.
Crunch!
“…Gah!”
“Were Yuhyeon and I really that untrustworthy to you?”
Crack.
He snapped the neck clean through. He had just killed Pyeongchil, the servant who had attended him for nearly ten years.
“Blinded by the profit right in front of your eyes. Tsk tsk.”
He shook the blood from his hand as though it were filthy.
“Before I head to the Poison Blood Rite, I should wake this guy up first, right?”
When he pulled back the bedding, a small space was revealed. Inside it rested an exquisite box. Opening the box, he found a single white ring.
The divine object that had sent him into the past. The ring his mother had secretly entrusted to him alone before she died—Hwancheonjihwan.