The Final Battle - The Protagonist Appears
I always knew the Murim would look like this without me. Chaos, destruction, hatred, arson... The world I'd protected through endless suffering crumbled like a sandcastle at the slightest push. Seriously, couldn't they at least give me a cool nickname or treat me with some respect? Still, as the magnificent person I am, I couldn't just ignore the mess these pathetic fools had made. So, shall we get this over with?
Darkness had swallowed the heavens and earth. In the pitch-black void, the only source of light was a sinister, ominous star hanging at the center of the sky. Beneath its crimson, eerie glow, the allied forces of the Orthodox, Evil, and Demonic factions stood in a long, tense standoff against the villains of Mansin-jeon.
The battle was overwhelmingly in the alliance's disfavor. Hyeon-jung, the so-called greatest under heaven from Shaolin, lay collapsed on the ground, so battered it was impossible to tell if he was dead or alive. The 108 Arhats of Shaolin surrounded him, coughing blood as they formed an iron-tight guard.
The ruler of the Evil Faction, the Hunse Magun, and the leader of the Demonic Cult, the Sinsan Cheonma, were both encircled by their subordinates, their faces grim as they stared across the battlefield. The profound martial prowess that had supposedly reached the Profound Realm and the majestic presence that once anchored the Murim were nowhere to be seen. Only the trails of blood dripping from their mouths and noses hinted at the fatal internal injuries they had suffered.
The calm before the storm. It was obvious that once this precarious standoff ended and battle resumed, it would mark the final day of Murim's history.
"...What about the government army? Are they not coming?" Sinsan Cheonma asked with great effort.
Hunse Magun answered with a bitter smile. "It seems they want us all dead. We should never have trusted those officials in the first place..."
The look on Hunse Magun's face was filled with deep regret. Sinsan Cheonma was seized by the ominous certainty that the Demonic Cult, which had endured for thousands of years, would meet its end during his generation.
I always knew the day would come when our sacred teachings would fade... but why did it have to be today, of all days?
As despair made him close his eyes tightly, a certain figure suddenly flashed through Sinsan Cheonma's mind. His eyes snapped open.
"The Madwoman... where is that child? Why can't I see her anywhere?"
At the question, Hunse Magun let out a soft, wry chuckle. "You know what she's like. That girl's calculations are frighteningly fast... She must have decided this fight wasn't worth the risk and run off."
"Hmm..." A dark shadow fell over Sinsan Cheonma's face. She was the one variable that could render all calculations meaningless. He'd hoped she might be the one to overturn this hopeless situation.
"Enough with the disappointment. Let us make our final preparations," Hunse Magun said in a resolute voice.
Sinsan Cheonma lifted his head and looked forward. At the center of the gathered villains of Mansin-jeon, an overwhelming presence that seemed to warp space itself blazed like wildfire. A man with one arm severed. It was Jeok Mu-seong, the master of Mansin-jeon and its pontiff.
"Jeok Mu-seong... can that thing even be called human?"
The terrifying pressure blanketed the world, and even the Profound Realm masters Sinsan Cheonma and Hunse Magun felt instinctive fear. It was the exact moment when all hope seemed lost.
[KWAaaaaaaaang—!]
A single streak of light pierced through the overwhelming wave of energy and slammed down from the sky. A deafening roar shook the earth as a thick cloud of dust erupted. When the dust finally settled, a single figure was revealed.
Skin as pure and white as fresh snow. Gracefully arched eyebrows and a noble nose like a mountain ridge. And eyes as deep and clear as a heavenly lake. Every gaze on the battlefield locked onto her.
"The Cold-Faced Madwoman!"
"The Ice-Blooded Witch!"
"The First Beauty of the Evil Faction!"
The alliance's warriors erupted in cheers, shouting her titles in worship of the peerless beauty's arrival. At their fervent welcome, Hong Dan-ah—the peerless beauty—offered a smile as beautiful as a celestial fairy.
That's what I'm talking about! It's only natural for someone as magnificent as me to receive this kind of reception!
...But every single one of those titles pissed me off.
Cold-Faced Madwoman? What am I, the owner of a cold noodle shop? There are so many cooler ones out there—Heaven-Splitting Divine Sword, Greatest Sword of All Time, Martial Emperor of the World... Why the hell did I get stuck with these?
It had been roughly five years since I, having failed at a consciousness transfer to the past in an attempt to save humanity from an apocalyptic crisis in my original world, ended up in this Murim realm. After everything I'd accomplished here, how could they slap such pathetic nicknames on me?
I'd stopped the war between the Orthodox and Evil factions, been a founding member of the Evil Faction Alliance, saved Shaolin from total annihilation, and shaken the entire Murim world as its greatest hero—and they call me the Ice-Blooded Witch?
When I glared at the crowd in displeasure, the clueless idiots started shouting even more recent titles they'd come up with.
"The Holy Mother of Shaolin!"
"The White-Robed Guanyin!"
"The Butterfly-Dancing Immortal!"
"The Moon Palace's Chang'e!"
I hate them even more!!
I am Bae Taeseong, a man through and through! Even though I'm currently trapped in the body of a woman named Hong Dan-ah, my heart remains that of a true man among men. And yet they keep throwing around nauseating titles like Holy Mother, Guanyin, and Immortal Fairy.
Ugh, fuck this. I'm not listening anymore.
I ignored the crowd's cheers and fixed my glare on the arrogant figure seated at the center of Mansin-jeon's camp. Our eyes met in midair.
As Jeok Mu-seong slowly rose to his feet, a terrifying aura surged like a storm. His white hair danced wildly, his red eyes grew even darker, and the veins on every muscle across his body bulged and writhed. Even the warriors of Mansin-jeon staggered backward, overwhelmed by his killing intent.
I've thought this for a while now... that bastard is seriously a fucking lunatic.
"What are you looking at, you tiny-dicked prick?"
My clear, elegant provocation made his body float into the air as waves of condensed energy swirled around him.
"Have you come here to die? Today, I shall quench my thirst with your blood."
...Okay, I'll admit I'm a little scared. Can I actually beat this guy?
Still, I couldn't afford to lose the battle of momentum. I'd made it this far on pure guts alone. I decided to push him even harder.
"You idiot. Look at you, losing an arm to three frail old men in the Profound Realm. If it were me, I'd be so ashamed I'd drown myself in a washbasin. Go kill yourself!"
The provocation worked too well. With a monstrous roar, he charged straight at me.
[Kugugugugu!]
As he flew toward me, the air froze and vibrated while a roar like the sky itself tearing apart echoed out. The momentum was so overwhelming that I felt a tiny pang of regret.
...Maybe I provoked him a bit too much?
How the hell did I end up getting dragged into this mess again?
It all started five years ago, on that damned day. Because of those fucking scientists, I'm stuck going through this hell all over again...
Just wait until I get back. I'm going to beat those scientist bastards to within an inch of their lives.
I grit my teeth and let out a battle cry.
"Haaap!"
I kicked off the ground and flew straight toward the charging Jeok Mu-seong. And in that instant, my consciousness drifted back to that day five years ago.