The Immigrant

Reincarnation into another world—an isekai rebirth.

A protagonist on the brink of death meets a goddess or higher being, only to be reborn into another realm or possess the body of someone living there. It was a classic, well-worn trope in the genre.

Blessed with an overpowered cheat skill, the protagonist would go on an unstoppable rampage across this new world—a narrative crafted to offer readers vicarious escapism from the crushing weight of their own mundane reality. And so, those whose lives felt thoroughly miserable would sometimes daydream of slipping away to another universe.

And that absurd daydream had actually happened to Yeonil.

When he took his own life, a goddess had manifested before him and granted him a second chance at living. He was even handed a cheat skill of sorts, giving him an undeniable edge over everyone else.

Even so, life was never easy; yet through grit and circumstance, he had managed to adapt and carve out a place of his own.

Even without her nagging, he had every intention of doing just that. This was a second chance he never should have received, and Yeonil was determined to live it more earnestly and fully than his first.

And just like that, fifteen years had passed.

"...Was it a dream?"

Early in the dawn, waking earlier than usual, Yeonil dragged a hand down his face as he pushed himself upright. Outside the window, twin moons looked down upon him. When he had first laid eyes on that sight, it had felt overwhelmingly alien, but now the idea of the sky holding only a single moon felt far stranger.

It had been well over fifteen years since Yeonil found himself cast into this world. A realm governed by swords and magic. Transcendent beings—gods and demons—walked the earth, alongside countless creatures he had never dreamed of in his homeland. Yet, despite stepping into this world for the very first time, it had never felt entirely foreign. The landscape and its rules matched a game lodged deep in his memories almost to the letter.

Blue Fantasy.

A turn-based collection RPG. A classic high-fantasy tale centering on the age-old, almost cliché battle between heroes and demon kings, it had nonetheless captured the hearts of countless players thanks to its rock-solid narrative and stunning artwork.

And the otherworld the goddess had brought him to bore an uncanny resemblance to Blue Fantasy. Almost as if this world had been fashioned directly from the blueprint of that very game.

He had no idea by what mechanism or cosmic design such a thing was possible. Even so, that familiarity had allowed Yeonil to adjust far more easily to this strange new land. The cheat gifted to him by the goddess had been an immense help as well. Now, he was far stronger than anyone else, had amassed a substantial fortune, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and held a status and authority that no one dared cross.

"Are you awake, Father?"

As Yeonil stepped out of his bedchamber, a mid-teens boy greeted him. Save for his vibrant violet hair and younger features, the boy was a mirror image of Yeonil. A stranger would have easily mistaken them for brothers. In truth, they were father and son. Yeonil still looked to be in his early twenties on the surface, but his actual years far exceeded his youthful appearance.

"You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep much."

"Where are the others?"

"Still sleeping. I was going to wake them in a bit."

"I see. You have your hands full, don't you?"

After dropping into this other world, Yeonil had courted naturally, fallen in love, and built a home. In his past life, circumstances had conspired so that he lived and died as a lifelong virgin who had never dated, but here was different—though even this would likely have remained out of reach had he not crossed over. He and his wife shared a deep, tender affection, and together they had welcomed quite a few children.

Among them, Luka, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eldest, was by far the most dependable and grown-up. Yeonil was proud of his firstborn, yet at times he couldn't help but worry that they were piling far too much responsibility onto young shoulders.

"Are you heading out?"

"Yes. Thought I'd make my rounds a little earlier today."

"All right. Have a safe trip. Oh, before you go..."

Luka handed Yeonil something wrapped carefully: a sandwich packed with cheese and seasoned meat. Unlike his father, whose palate was hopelessly dull, Luka had inherited his mother's knack for fine cooking. While their maid usually handled meals, it was by no means rare for Luka to whip up light snacks like this.

"Thank you."

"Will you be stopping by the temple before you leave?"

"That was the plan..."

Beep, beep, beep—

A familiar chime resonated. Yeonil retrieved a smooth gemstone from his coat. Known as a Communication Stone, it served a function similar to Earth's mobile phones. But unlike Earth smartphones packed with endless features, the stone was strictly a handheld transceiver meant for emergency calls.

"...Looks like the temple visit will have to wait."

Unfortunate, but duty called. To live in this world, one needed a profession. The standing and office Yeonil held were lofty indeed, and the responsibilities that accompanied them were just as heavy.

"Take care, Father. Don't worry about the kids."

"I'll be back soon."

Yeonil ruffled Luka's hair once and stepped out the front door.

The destination, the Eastern Fortress, lay tens of kilometers away. Riding a horse or carriage would never get him there in time. True to a fantasy world, teleportation spells existed here, but they were astronomically expensive and strictly limited in supply, hardly something one could cast on a whim. For Yeonil, however, distance was hardly an obstacle.

All he had to do was fly.

A feat impossible for an ordinary human, but Yeonil was no ordinary human. Naturally stepping onto empty air, he rocketed forward, flying faster than the wind itself.

"Hold the line!"

"The Guardian will be here soon! Hold on until then!"

Before long, he arrived at the Eastern Fortress. Below, soldiers were locked in desperate combat against an encroaching tide of nightmares.

These creatures were known as demonic beasts, broadly falling into two categories: ordinary creatures mutated by prolonged exposure to demonic energy, and monsters naturally born as beasts from the very start. The latter were far more lethal. Demonic beasts primarily dwelled in the Demon Territory and the Demon World. And Yeonil's duty was to eradicate the beasts and demons that spilled out, keeping humanity safe. Though hailing from another universe, he was, without question, the strongest being in this world.

Yeonil dropped silently behind the front line of soldiers holding off the demonic tide. Without uttering a word, he swung his black blade, Dawn, in a single horizontal arc.

A blinding golden radiance burst from the jet-black edge of Dawn. The light fanned out, swelling into a monumental wave of golden brilliance that swallowed the entire battlefield. The human soldiers felt nothing more than a gentle, soothing warmth wash over them. The demonic beasts, however, met a vastly different fate. Before they could even let out a death rattle, they were incinerated, burned down to ash. No—they left not even ash behind, evaporating into thin air like a desert mirage.

With that single strike, the battle was over.

"The Guardian has arrived!"

"We're saved!"

"Thank you, Guardian!"

Relief washed over the ranks, the soldiers exhaling shuddering breaths. Some collapsed to their knees on the spot, the sheer adrenaline draining from their limbs.

"Thank you for coming so swiftly."

Robert, the Supreme Commander of the Eastern Fortress, stepped forward to offer his gratitude. Every time Yeonil saw him, the commander seemed to have aged another year.

"It's my duty. More importantly, what of the wounded...?"

"We didn't escape without casualties, I'm afraid. Still, thanks to your timely arrival, our losses were remarkably light."

"..."

Yeonil did not say that was fortunate. However few, people had still died.

Seeing Yeonil's heavy silence, Robert offered a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weary, understanding smile.

"You must be exhausted, being summoned at such an ungodly hour. Would you care to rest inside for a moment?"

"I appreciate the thought, but I must decline. I have other sectors to survey today. Forgive me for not accepting your hospitality."

"Please, think nothing of it. Had it not been for you, Guardian, humanity would have fallen long ago."

"..."

Yeonil found no words in response to Robert's solemn praise. Declining the commander's goodwill, he turned and took to the sky once more.

As the Guardian, he patrolled the Demon Territory every single day. Whenever he spotted an unnaturally dense horde of beasts, an entity strong enough to act as an alpha, or signs of demons gathering their strength, he drew his sword and excised the danger before it could fester.

His patrol ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠route encompassed the vast majority of the Arte Continent, where humanity resided. While he focused primarily on strategic chokepoints and vulnerable perimeters, inspecting an entire continent was an impossible task for a single mortal. Only Yeonil could pull off such an absurdity. Fantasy world or not, virtually no one possessed the speed to race across the skies at such velocities, let alone sensory perception capable of scanning across dozens of kilometers at once.

Yet even with all his efforts, people were injured and killed every day. Most of the continent had already been corrupted into Demon Territory, leaving humanity's living space desperately confined. On top of that, dimensional rifts connecting to the Demon World would tear open whenever the balance tipped, disgorging swarms of abyssal horrors.

Fortunately, aside from the Eastern Fortress, today's patrol turned up no major anomalies. Still, Yeonil was only one man. He could never eliminate every lurking threat in advance. Preventing demonic beasts and True Demons from staging sudden incursions was an impossible perfection no mortal could attain.

The state of this world was precarious in the extreme.

In Blue Fantasy, there existed only two continents: Arte and Xenia. Among them, Xenia had been thoroughly corrupted into Demon Territory centuries ago, rendered entirely uninhabitable for mortals. To compare it to Earth, the entire landmass was bathed in lethal radiation. Arte Continent was in slightly better shape, but hardly fortunate—a staggering two-thirds of its territory had already turned into Demon Territory.

While many stories treated the Demon World and Demon Territory as synonymous, in Blue Fantasy, there was a stark, fundamental difference. If the Demon Territory was a contaminated wasteland irradiated by demonic energy, the Demon World was the very source from which that radiation flowed. The Demon Territory was hazardous on its own, but when the concentration of demonic power reached critical density, dimensional gates linking directly to the Demon World would tear open—a catastrophe known as the Assimilation Phenomenon.

Once those gates opened, True Demons would occasionally cross the threshold. Demons born from the very origin of chaos—godlike beings engineered purely for ruin and slaughter. Among them, the seven strongest reigned supreme as the Demon Kings.

And nobody in this world could stand against them except Yeonil.

That was why he could not afford to skip his patrols, not even for a single day. The only silver lining was that dimensional rifts gave off unmistakable signatures visible from immense distances; for someone of Yeonil's caliber, missing one was out of the question.

By the time he concluded his continental sweep, dusk had already settled over the land. Having finished his duties for the day, Yeonil visited the grand temple situated not far from his home. More precisely, he made his way to a private infirmary tucked within its secluded wing. In this realm, temples doubled as hospitals. Inside the private room, a woman lay resting quietly upon the sickbed, attended by several priests.

"You have arrived, Guardian?"

The priests greeted Yeonil with familiar respect.

"Any changes today?"

"No... unfortunately."

Reading the room, the priests quietly bowed and exited, leaving Yeonil alone with the woman on the bed.

She was an incomparable beauty. Breathtakingly lovely, like a benevolent goddess carved from dreams. Mystic violet locks, reminiscent of blooming violets, cascaded down past her slender waist. Her gentle, softly curving eyes felt as though they might radiate a tender smile at any second, imparting a profound sense of warmth even in stillness. The faint scent of lavender drifting from her presence was more than enough to soothe any lingering turmoil in his heart.

"I'm home."

Yeonil gently reached out and caressed the woman's soft cheek. Looking upon the most beloved woman in the world, a faint, tender smile touched his lips. She was the sole reason Yeonil had resolved to forsake all longing for his distant homeland and truly live in this unfamiliar world.

She was, after all, his wife.