Prologue
The world around me blurred, whipping past in distorted streaks. My lungs burned, breath scraping raw at my throat, but I only pushed myself to run faster. Blood gushed hot and heavy from the wound in my thigh, but there was no helping it.
If they caught me, I’d die. No question.
A lifetime clawing for survival in Murim told me as much.
Could I actually get away?
The moment that dreaded doubt crept into my mind, I yanked another throwing knife from my coat and flung it blindly behind me. I wanted to live—desperately.
Shwick.
My blade, charged with internal energy, sliced through the air. I didn’t have the luxury to look back and see if it struck.
I tore through underbrush and tangled roots that weren’t even a proper path. A sharp branch scraped across my cheek, warm blood trailing after.
“Haah—damn it! This is why—haah—this is exactly why you can’t trust those demonic cult bastards or any of the unorthodox sects—!”
There’s no such thing as loyalty with these scumbags, even if we’re supposed to be partners.
Sure, I’d lived like that too, but being on the receiving end? It was infuriating. Made my skin crawl.
Cursing, I shoved aside the last of the thick brush—and found myself staring into blinding light.
It was, in every sense, the light of despair.
“Ha… haha…”
I stopped dead. Pebbles tumbled away from the edge where my feet had landed. I was standing at the very brink of a sheer cliff. Slowly, I turned around. The man who’d been chasing me didn’t even look winded—he wasn’t so much as breathing hard.
He strolled up with his hands clasped behind his back, utterly at ease, and drawled,
“Well, that’s it then. Done running?”
“…Looks like it.”
“You’re quite impressive. To cut down over a hundred of my disciples all by yourself. Had we met under different circumstances, I’d have kept you by my side. What a shame.”
“How about you just… let me go? I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”
The man—the Heavenly Demon—simply smiled.
“Regrettably, I can’t do that. With a grand endeavor on the horizon, I can’t afford to leave any loose ends. Call it bad luck, for both of us.”
“Yeah… all it took was glancing the wrong damn way, and now here I am paying the ultimate price.”
I let out a hollow laugh.
Fighting wasn’t even an option anymore. I was far too injured. I’d cut down a hundred men and barely escaped with my life. Of course I wasn’t fine. Even just dragging this standoff out would probably make me bleed out and die.
“If you’re dead set on killing me, then fine. Guess I’ll just die.”
I let my sword drop with a dull clatter.
“But I’m not giving you a damn thing.”
And without another word, I hurled myself off the cliff. Better to be fish food at the bottom of the Yangtze than let him steal my lifetime of internal energy and life force with that absorption technique!
Even as I fell, I clenched a fist and hurled it in Heavenly Demon’s direction, flipping him off with everything I had.
As I plunged deeper into the void, I could see him standing at the edge above, watching me. For a second, it almost looked like he was smiling…
Splash!
That was the end. My body slammed into the water, unprotected, blood bursting from every wound. I sank steadily downward.
My entire life—spent clawing and scrabbling just to keep breathing—flashed before my eyes in a rush. If I’d known I’d die like this, maybe I would’ve given up sooner, lived a little easier.
If I’d walked away when I learned the Sect Master was colluding with the Demonic Cult. Or hell, if I’d never joined the unorthodox sects at all. If I’d just never learned martial arts. Would anything have been different then? Could I have lived a real life?
Those useless what-ifs drifted farther and farther away, like that fading light above. I let my body relax, and slowly closed my eyes.
This was death.
📝 Translator’s Notes:
- Murim (무림): the traditional martial arts world.
- 천마 – literally “Heavenly Demon,” often a title for the leader of a powerful demonic sect.
