Chapter 1: Wedge
Sacred Heavenly Realm.
At the end of a colossal canyon, before a twisted barrier.
Hundreds of sword shards shredded Cheonui’s body, and he barely endured, drenched in blood.
“Cheonui, there is no place left to run. Hand over the Blood Sacred Pearl, and I will let you go without pain.”
A voice fell from above.
Raising his head, Cheonui saw a figure radiating light like the sun.
“After three hundred years of running… this is how it ends…”
Cheonui exhaled a heavy sigh.
A faint, familiar face flashed across his mind.
—Wol-ah.
Regret clouded his eyes.
“…I can no longer protect you. From now on, you have to survive by your own strength.”
Cheonui’s eyes hardened with resolve as he extended his hand.
In his palm was a crimson-stained orb.
“The Blood Sacred Pearl!”
The figure in the sky trembled violently.
“You want this, don’t you? But I won’t give it to you!”
Cheonui twisted his lips into a smile and hurled himself toward the barrier behind him.
This place was the greatest forbidden ground of the Sacred Heavenly Realm.
“Ruins of Fate.”
A land of death from which no one had ever returned alive.
“Carrying the Blood Sacred Pearl there? Have you forgotten your sister’s life?”
The sun-like figure spoke calmly.
Cheonui halted and turned.
Before him, a girl in yellow was captured, her entire body sealed.
“Wol-ah!”
Cheonui froze.
‘I entrusted Wol-ah to Yukha!’
“There’s nothing to be surprised about. I am already under the command of Sword Master Da-in. Thanks to you, I got a chance to make my merit. Thank you, Cheonui.”
Another figure appeared in midair—a middle-aged man in ornate clothing.
“Yukha…”
Cheonui’s eyes twisted.
“Did you betray me?”
“Betrayal? I was never your subordinate. I merely follow Sword Master Da-in’s will.”
Sword Master Da-in nodded and smiled.
“Well done, Yukha. Now, Cheonui. If you want to save your sister, hand over the Blood Sacred Pearl.”
Cheonui lowered his gaze silently.
At that moment, Sword Master Da-in snapped his fingers.
Bang!
One of Cheonwol’s arms exploded in a mist of blood.
Her contorted expression, unable even to scream, conveyed all her suffering.
“Stop! I said stop this immediately!”
Cheonui gritted his teeth and shouted.
“Give me the Blood Sacred Pearl!”
Sword Master Da-in raised his hand again, as if to commit an even crueler act.
Cheonui clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and finally uttered the words he never wanted to say.
“Fine! I’ll give you the Blood Sacred Pearl!”
With all his strength, Cheonui threw the pearl, and Sword Master Da-in caught it.
Seeing the Blood Sacred Pearl in hand, Sword Master Da-in twisted his lips into a smile.
Cheonui cried out desperately:
“Now release my sister!”
“I will.”
With that, his palm slammed onto Cheonwol’s back.
“No!”
Cheonui’s scream shook the canyon, but it was too late.
Cheonwol’s body scattered in the mist of blood.
Cheonui could only stare blankly at the horror before him.
A world where all sound had vanished.
Only the falling drops of blood danced in his vision.
“Sword Master! You bastard!”
His blood-red eyes flared.
“I will avenge Wol-ah’s life!”
Madness erupted from Cheonui’s body.
“Self-destruction! Stop him!”
Sword Master Da-in and Yukha scrambled to flee…
Boom!
The explosion devoured everything.
At that moment, a flash burst from the rift in the twisted barrier, flowing toward the center of the explosion.
“Brother! Brother! Brother!”
A clear, lark-like voice tickled his ears.
Through blurry vision, Cheonui slowly opened his eyes.
“Brother!”
The voice grew clearer.
‘Wol-ah?’
Cheonui’s pupils shook violently.
‘…Was it a dream?’
But he had no time to dwell.
“Brother!”
The girl in a yellow skirt glared at him, pouting.
“The birthday feast for Father is about to start! How long are you going to sleep?”
“Wol… Wol-ah?”
Cheonui’s eyes widened.
“You… you’re not dead?”
“Dead? What are you talking about?”
“So… I’m not dead either?”
Cheonwol squinted.
“Was it just a nightmare?”
Cheonui’s expression stiffened.
‘Wol-ah… why does she look so young?’
In his memories, Cheonwol was over three hundred years old. But the girl before him appeared younger than fifteen.
‘…What is happening?’
He had self-destructed at the entrance to the Ruins of Fate. And Cheonwol… had died.
Yet both were alive?
“Brother?”
Cheonwol approached with a puzzled expression, and Cheonui surveyed his surroundings.
A thick brown wool carpet covered the floor, with a low wooden table and cushions. One wall displayed calligraphy, and the other had a wooden plaque with a date.
Seeing the date, Cheonui froze.
Namun Year 1606, 16th of August.
‘Namun Realm…? Three hundred years ago…’
Cheonui quickly regained his composure.
Focusing on his dantian, he felt a familiar yet strange flow.
“Smoky Path… Seventh Heaven?”
He could not hide his astonishment.
Once a venerable cultivator, he was now only at an intermediate stage.
“Brother, are you okay?”
Cheonwol’s voice went unanswered.
Only one word lingered in his mind.
Rebirth.
The mythic tale had become his reality.
But this was not simple reincarnation.
It was a rebellion forbidden even by Heaven, reversing time against fate.
‘Could this… be because of my self-destruction at the Ruins of Fate…?’
At that moment, a subtle vibration arose deep within his dantian.
—The Blood Sacred Pearl.
It remained intact, powerless, within his body.
“Brother! Hurry!”
Snapping back to reality at Cheonwol’s voice, he looked at the wooden plaque.
‘This is the day. The very day the tragedy of my previous life began…’
He inhaled deeply.
“Heaven has given me the sword once more.”
Cheonui slowly lifted his hand and gazed at it.
The hands once stained with blood in his previous life.
In this life, they must be hands that protect.
“Brother! Still!”
“I’m going!”
The Cheon family was one of the two major cultivation houses in the Mokgun Province of the Southern Wind Empire, one of the six major nations of the Namun Realm.
Today was the fiftieth master banquet hosted by Cheon Sanhang, head of the Cheon family.
The mansion, inside and out, was adorned with red lanterns and silk decorations, filled with festive energy.
The grandest space was the open courtyard spanning thousands of pyeong.
Rows of banquet tables were already filled with distinguished guests.
By the time Cheonui and Cheonwol arrived, even finding a seat was difficult.
After much searching, they finally found a place among young men of their age.
As the siblings seated themselves, all eyes turned toward them.
The gazes toward Cheonui held a mixture of respect and envy; those toward Cheonwol were openly disdainful.
Despite this, Cheonwol adjusted herself with a consistent smile, as if unaffected.
Cheonui knew better—she wasn’t smiling, she had to smile.
In the Namun Realm, cultivation defined everything.
The Cheon family was a central sect.
Yet Wol-ah’s meridians had been blocked since birth.
Unable to cultivate, she was a disgrace to the family the moment it was revealed.
Useless, a shackled existence, tainting the family’s bloodline.
From childhood, she endured ridicule and cold treatment.
Still, she always smiled, pretending to be strong.
Cheonui knew the countless tears hidden behind that smile.
He had seen the young girl cry in secret countless times.
Cheonui’s eyes turned cold.
He looked across the banquet tables and spoke.
“Why the expression? Are you in pain? If so, you should see a doctor. Why drag yourself here?”
A few young men scoffed, but quickly fell silent.
No one dared speak lightly before Cheonui, the young master of the Cheon family.
Even at a young age, he commanded respect among the youth of the Cheon clan.
“Brother…”
Cheonwol gently tugged at Cheonui’s sleeve, as if to stop him from causing unnecessary friction.
Cheonui shook his head slightly with a faint smile, indicating all was well.
The inexperienced youth of the Cheon family were never worth noticing in his past life.
Now, he had returned to protect someone more precious than his own life.
In his eyes, whether past or present, harming Cheonwol was unforgivable.
“From the royal family!”
A loud proclamation froze the air in an instant.
All eyes turned toward the mansion entrance.
Figures in lavish robes of red silk and gold thread entered in formation.
At the front, a middle-aged man radiated sharp authority, followed by a young man with a poised, sword-like demeanor.
“The head of the royal family, Wang Seong, and the young master, Wang Yun!”
“Directly here for Cheon family’s birthday feast?”
“That must be the famous Wang Yun. Look at that presence…”
“Called the greatest genius of Mokgun Province, indeed formidable!”
The royal family, along with the Cheon family, were the two major cultivation houses of Mokgun Province.
But their relationship was merely superficial.
Two heads under one roof could not coexist; disputes over interests had brought them to the brink of catastrophe.
And now, the head of the royal family appeared personally at this feast?
A single elder would have sufficed. Why attend personally?
Gasps whispered across the crowd.
All, except Cheonui.
He coldly watched the royal entourage.
Memories of his past life returned vividly.
Today marked the prologue of all tragedies.
“The family head has arrived!”
Moments after the royal family took their seats, a loud shout drew everyone’s attention to the pavilion at the front of the square.
Through the red lanterns, a figure appeared.
Shoulder-length, half-white hair, the hem of his red ceremonial robes swept by the wind, exuding commanding presence.
The head of the Cheon family—Cheon Sanhang.
“Father…”
Cheonui’s voice trembled slightly.
Three hundred years ago, in his previous life, he had lost his father that day.
Now, a face he thought he could never see, even in dreams, was before him.
Longing, melancholy, guilt, and overwhelming emotion surged simultaneously.
He gritted his teeth and quietly looked up at his father.
“Thank you sincerely to all who have come to celebrate my birthday.”
Cheon Sanhang, standing on the pavilion, raised his hand with a gentle smile.
“The feast is prepared with the finest wine and dishes. Please enjoy to your heart’s content.”
As his voice faded, the clinking of utensils and glasses filled the banquet hall.
Attendees included the elite of Mokgun Province: sect elders, faction leaders, city governors, and heads of influential families.
The gathering naturally fostered a lively atmosphere.
Yet, some were displeased by the festivity.
“As the saying goes, seeing is believing… So this is the only ‘non-cultivator’ of Mokgun Province, Miss Cheonwol?
