Chapter 1
Prologue
“Leader.”
Had I been dreaming, even for a moment?
As consciousness returned, I heard the familiar voice of the Divine Physician.
We’d spoken at length just yesterday, or so it felt—yet strangely, it also seemed as though it had been a very long time.
In that instant, I understood.
So it’s time.
The shadow of death that had been creeping closer had finally swallowed me whole.
“You’ve regained consciousness. Are you able to speak?”
I tried to open my mouth. But my lips wouldn’t move. Neither would my jaw.
No voice came out. All I could see, faintly, was the physician’s face and the ceiling above my bed. I could barely feel anything at all.
And yet—my hearing was perfectly intact. That alone felt strange.
“Leader…”
I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could hear the slight tremor in his voice.
“This is all due to my incompetence. I’ve allowed you to fall to this state.”
Why is that your fault?
“When we meet again in the afterlife, I swear I will serve you once more.”
Then, from far away, countless voices reached my ears.
“Leader!”
“Leader, please wake up!”
“You mustn’t leave us, Leader!”
Their voices were heavy with grief.
Even at my final moment, I couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. I’d put those people through hell and back—what kind of great leader did they think I was, to cry like that?
I could even hear outright sobbing. It seemed the physician’s words had made them realize there was no hope.
That’s enough…
Honestly, it felt less embarrassing and more apologetic.
By my own standards, I was a terribly ill-tempered man. Sure, it was a side effect of my clan’s secret arts—but even so, as the Martial Alliance Leader, I should have shown at least a shred of dignity, if not solemnity.
I hadn’t managed that.
Then again, at this point, blaming side effects felt like an excuse. Perhaps it was simply my nature.
Still… thank you for crying for such a wretched leader—
That was when I heard whispering.
“So he’s finally going. Finally.”
“Damn it. I prayed to the gods for ten years, and that miserable bastard somehow endured all that time.”
“Tougher than a tiger’s sinew, that one.”
Thanks, my—
“But what if he suddenly gets up again? You know how he was. Remember the fight with the Demon Immortal? He kept springing back up.”
“Shh! He’ll hear you, you demon!”
…Those sons of bitches.
My eyes twitched with rage. My hearing was so sharp I could probably hear ants crawling—enough to catch every whisper from the people who hated me.
Those had to be the bastards expelled from important posts for wartime corruption. I’d spared them execution and only condemned them to labor, and this was how they repaid me—wagging their filthy tongues while I lay dying?!
“Let’s not underestimate the Mad Demon’s vitality. Come now—let’s pray sincerely that he dies well.”
I was about to curse them internally when I froze.
Mad Demon…
Crazy monster.
That was the infamous epithet my enemies—and plenty of others—had slapped onto me.
Well, I did pile up more than enough bad karma.
If they’d called me something even worse, I’d have had to accept it.
People said that although my temper was fiery, my blade was always turned toward evil.
That wasn’t entirely wrong—but in the end, it was still just part of the job. I’d never wanted the grand title of Martial Alliance Leader in the first place.
That’s life, really. You can’t always do what you want, and no one gets everything they desire.
In the end, I was nothing more than a common man with slightly superior martial skill—and a foul temper.
Still…
My clan came to mind.
A life pushed forward by others, by the world—but the one light I had managed to grasp.
Still, I restored the clan’s honor.
That was enough.
From now on, the world would never again point fingers at my family.
Well, perhaps some future degenerate might ruin it all again—but that wouldn’t be my responsibility.
As I thought of my clan, my older brother’s warm smile surfaced in my mind.
“It’s not because you’re the Leader. At the very least, you should live longer than this useless older brother of yours, shouldn’t you? The family will be fine—we brothers will take care of it. So stop worrying and take things a bit easier.”
My chest tightened.
He had saved me when I’d nearly lived worse than a beast—and not only that, he’d turned my hellish family into paradise. Without him, I’d either be dead or would’ve abandoned everything and fled.
“Still, don’t you think what we left behind is pretty impressive?”
The Jianghu mattered—but the revival of our clan mattered more to me.
I’ve done enough.
Yes. This was enough—
Thump!
Suddenly, my vision went white as an overwhelming pain crushed my chest.
Ghk!
I felt my mouth fall open. Even my sharp hearing turned dull and distant.
I knew exactly what this symptom meant.
The Demon Immortal.
Five years had passed since the twenty-year war with the Sacred Blood Palace ended.
For five long years, the demonic energy left behind by its master—the Demon Immortal, Neunghyeong—had been gnawing at my life. And now, at the very end, it was rearing its head again.
The voice of my worst enemy echoed like a hallucination.
“I’ll be waiting. Until the day you come.”
Oh, really?
Then wait right there. If it’s another round in hell, I’ll gladly take you on, you bastard!
I clenched my teeth and endured through sheer will—but the pain multiplied two or threefold with every blink.
A scream tore from my mouth.
“AAAAAAAH!”
“Leader!!”
After screaming for what felt like an eternity, I felt the world plunge into darkness.
And then—
“Huh?”
I blinked.
What is this place?
I stood in a space devoid of light—yet somehow, I could still see myself, clad in the dragon robe of the Martial Alliance Leader.
The pain was gone. My dulled senses had fully returned.
What now? Did I skip the River of Three Crossings and arrive straight in the afterlife?
Then a chilling voice spoke.
“So you’ve finally arrived.”
A voice so low and resonant it couldn’t possibly belong to a human—like sound echoing through a cavern.
Every hair on my body stood on end.
“Who are you?”
The darkness vibrated as the voice spoke again.
“I waited far too long.”
“What?”
“My identity as an intermediary was on the verge of collapse. Now, through you, I will prepare for the descent of a god.”
None of it made sense.
But I had no time to process it—the darkness began closing in from all sides.
I instinctively threw a punch, then immediately realized it was pointless.
This was not a place where someone of the living could exist. One way or another, my death was inevitable.
For a final vision, this place is unbearably desolate.
I slowly closed my eyes.
The darkness crushed down on me.
As my entire body felt pulverized, my consciousness snapped away.
* * *
There are moments when people find it hard to restrain their anger.
When parents scold you to study instead of playing during your most energetic years.
When you look at a child who once seemed exceptional but grows more foolish by the day, and the frustration finally explodes.
When you work tirelessly yet feel the world refuses to acknowledge you.
Or when a spouse you once adored suddenly starts chewing loudly, and irritation inexplicably bubbles up.
On the other hand, some people are angry for no reason at all—born with poor anger control, or driven by worsening mental states like chronic depression.
I belonged to none of those categories.
I wasn’t normal, but I wasn’t born with rage issues either. And yet, I was often angry.
Even so, in this situation, what I felt wasn’t anger—but sheer bewilderment.
“This is a mess.”
I blinked, and an unfamiliar woman stood before me.
She looked barely past her coming-of-age years. Her features were delicate, but her expressionless face radiated coldness.
“Is this really all you amount to?”
Who? Me?
“Who are you—”
Bang!
She slammed the table, making the dishes and liquor jump.
The young woman sprang to her feet.
“Our relationship ends today. I’m disappointed in you, Young Master Murong.”
She turned away sharply. A heavy, unpleasant fragrance lingered around her—dark and oppressive.
Young Master Murong?
I frowned.
No matter how bad I was, I was the Martial Alliance Leader. Since when did anyone call me ‘young master’?
I’d become the youngest leader in history, sure—but I was still over fifty. That wasn’t a title a woman barely in her twenties should be using.
“Unbelievable manners—eating filth for breakfast—huh?”
I tilted my head.
“Ah. Ah?”
…What?
“Ah. Aah.”
Something was wrong.
“Ah! Aagh!”
No matter how many times I spoke, the discomfort didn’t go away.
“What’s wrong with my voice?”
I touched my throat—and froze again.
Where’s my beard?
My jaw held only sparse, uneven stubble.
That wasn’t all. My jaw, my nose, my hair—none of it was mine.
Panicking, I looked down at my hands and widened my eyes.
“What the hell is this?!”
The scarred hands forged through brutal training and countless battles were gone.
Instead, these were so clean and delicate they could rival a woman’s—refined enough to be called jade hands.
A chill ran through me.
This isn’t my body.
I stood up instinctively—and staggered.
“Ugh!”
My legs had no strength. When I grabbed my knee, I felt a knee bone barely the size of a fist. There was almost no muscle or flesh around it.
Even my elbows ached from the slightest brush of fabric.
What am I, a wooden doll? Why are my limbs like this?
Did a witch drain my vitality or something?
But I had no memory of such a thing.
Then I noticed a bronze mirror on the shelf by the window.
“…!!”
A stranger stared back at me.
Pale face. Dark circles under the eyes. So thin that his cheekbones and jawline were painfully sharp.
He could’ve been called handsome—if not for how sickly and gloomy he looked.
“…Me?”
Familiar, yet unfamiliar.
I stared at the mirror, raised my eyebrows, stretched my lips.
The reflection mirrored me perfectly.
“That… that’s me?”
Impossible.
“Is this a dream? No—it can’t be. I already—”
Died.
The realization sent chills through my entire body as my heart thundered wildly.
That’s right. I had died.
Killed slowly by the demonic energy left behind by Neunghyeong.
This can’t be happening.
I rushed out of the room.
I didn’t know why—only that I had to leave.
“Haah… haah!”
I burst from a private room on the second floor of an inn and stumbled down to the first. I was already gasping for breath after that little exertion—but that didn’t matter now.
Someone shouted after me, but I ignored it.
I shoved open the door of the inn.
Clatter!
Outside, the sun was setting in the west.
The sky was dyed crimson. The air was humid, yet cool.
“Where is this?”
I didn’t recognize the place.
The streets were crowded—like a bustling city.
People of all kinds passed by. Different faces. Different eyes. Different emotions.
Seeing them made everything feel vividly real.
“Didn’t I die?”
No—more importantly—
“Why am I in someone else’s body?”
That insolent woman had definitely called me Young Master Murong.
I was a Murong—Murong Cheon was my name.
But this wasn’t my past self either. I’d once been thin, yes—but never this sickly. And above all, the face was different.
“What kind of ridiculous—”
That was when someone grabbed my arm from behind.
“Well now, young master. Why don’t you come with us for a moment?”
I was dragged into an alley by unfamiliar hands.
I had neither the strength nor the clarity to resist.
And so, I returned from death—
In the body of a frail, sickly young man who looked as though he might drop dead at any moment.
