~Chapter 01~
. Prologue
The dark forest was so thick that even the moonlight could not pierce through.
A man, his once-white martial robes now drenched in red blood, steadied his breathing while holding a long sword loosely in his right hand.
Drip. Drip.
So much blood had been spilled that drops slid down the blade, pattering onto the ground. Dozens of warriors, slain by that very sword, lay scattered across the area around him.
“Hoo…”
A weary sigh escaped the man’s lips.
He was Hyeok Unmyeong, the Sword God.
Born with the Body of Limitlessness (無極之體), a constitution that allowed him to learn both righteous and demonic martial arts, he had risen by his fortieth year to become the one closest to being the strongest under heaven.
Since his youth, he had carried the admiration and expectations of countless people. But now, all of it felt meaningless.
Because it was precisely that very body of his that had branded him as the Public Enemy of the Martial World.
Damn the Martial Alliance.
Even if their relationship had never been perfect, wasn’t it excessive to denounce his unique martial art as demonic and declare him the enemy of all?
Judging by how even the demonic sects were frantically hunting him, it seemed their motives were far from the “justice of the martial world.”
I need to move.
He had only paused to catch his breath, but he couldn’t linger. The Heavenly Net Formation would only tighten the longer he remained in place.
Just as he was about to spring forward—
Rustle.
Whoosh!
At the faintest sound of footsteps, Hyeok Unmyeong leapt into the air like a great cat. A streak of sword energy pierced through the spot where he had just been standing.
To launch sword qi without revealing killing intent or presence at such close range… this had to be the work of either a top-tier assassin, or at least a master on a level even he could not underestimate.
Tap.
Landing lightly, Hyeok Unmyeong lifted his gaze. Out of the darkness emerged a gaunt middle-aged man, narrow eyes hidden behind slits, a scar slashing across his cheek, and in his left hand, a crescent-shaped distorted sword.
A bitter smile curved Hyeok Unmyeong’s lips.
“The Eyeless Killing Sword… Did the Assassins’ Guild send you just to capture me?”
“There’s no rule that the shadows cannot pursue the Martial World’s public enemy.”
“Shadows, you say? You mercenaries of blood are enemies of the martial world yourselves.”
Rarely for him, Unmyeong spat insults. The assassin only smiled chillingly.
“Perhaps. But here’s another reason: the unique sword art of the Sword God… it isn’t something one can easily obtain.”
“You know that very sword art is the reason I was branded an enemy, and yet you crave it?”
“Ha. As you said, we assassins are no different from public enemies. If we claim your martial legacy, perhaps one day we can walk proudly under the sun.”
Click.
Unmyeong clicked his tongue at the man’s greed. Yet even as Unmyeong closed his eyes briefly, the assassin did not dare strike—he was not naïve enough to believe a master known as the Sword God would expose a true weakness.
“…Excluding you, there are five others.”
The assassin stiffened. Unmyeong had discerned the number of hidden ambushers in the brief moment he had closed his eyes.
A pause. Then—
“No… six.”
Flash!
His sword swept through the darkness, unleashing six streaks of sword qi in different directions. Screams erupted from the bushes as he surged forward toward the Eyeless Killing Sword.
“You—!”
Panicked, the assassin swung his crescent blade to block.
Clang!
“Kh!”
The sheer force behind Unmyeong’s strike overwhelmed him, driving his arm back. As Unmyeong closed in to press his advantage, the assassin flung dirt into the air like shrapnel.
Fwoosh!
To his surprise, Unmyeong even raised a sword barrier against the flying earth. Seizing the chance, the assassin leapt back—
Thud!
“…What?”
He had collided with something massive. Turning his head, he realized it wasn’t a rock—it was a giant of a man.
A towering brute with a mane of wild beard, a rugged reddish face, and fierce, beast-like eyes. His body was corded with muscle, like a mountain bandit chief made flesh.
Dangerous!
The assassin slashed for the man’s neck. His razor-thin sword moved faster than the eye—
BOOM!
The next thing he knew, the world was spinning. His face burned, pain or numbness he couldn’t tell, before his skull slammed into the ground and he rolled limply away.
Crash!
“Pathetic wretch, daring to raise a blade at me.”
The brute dusted off his fist. The assassin lay twisted, his nose crushed, teeth broken, eyes vacant, wetting himself in terror.
The brute snorted, then turned to Unmyeong.
“Been a while, Unmyeong. What has it been, three years?”
“Yes, though… it seems your strikes have grown harsher.”
“Harsh? I spared his life. That’s mercy.”
“…Mercy, you call it?”
Unmyeong stared at the ruined assassin, speechless.
But the brute waved it off.
“Forget it. Let’s get to the point. I came here to finish our unfinished duel from three years ago.”
“Unfinished duel? I recall you were too badly injured, so I stopped. And besides, after seven losses, isn’t it time you gave up?”
“Silence! It was six! One was a draw!”
“…If you say so.”
The brute’s face flushed red with fury. He raised his fists, crimson energy flaring around them—
Only to falter.
Unmyeong’s stance seemed strange. His right hand hung low with the sword, while his left arm supported… something heavy against his chest.
“…Wait. Don’t tell me…”
“Waaah.”
The brute froze. A baby?!
Indeed, in Unmyeong’s arms nestled an infant swaddled in red silk, whimpering softly.
“Did you wake? Sleep again, my child. Forgive your father.”
“Your… child?!”
The brute gawked.
Unmyeong only soothed the babe gently.
Then, with sudden motion, he landed before the brute and placed the crying infant into his arms.
“Take him. He cries.”
“Wh—why give him to me?!”
But instinctively, the brute held the child close.
Unmyeong’s eyes softened as he gazed at his son.
“…Forgive me. Your father cannot protect you. But my friend here will.”
“Friend?! Who are you calling friend?!”
“Waaaah!”
The child wailed louder at the brute’s shout.
“Damn it!”
The brute clutched his head in frustration, but Unmyeong pressed on, pulling out a worn book.
“Here. Take this.”
“What is it?”
“My martial manual.”
“…WHAT?!”
“Hush. You’ll wake the child.”
“…!”
Again silenced against his will, the brute scowled.
Unmyeong spoke with gravity:
“My art does not discriminate between righteous, demonic, or heretical internal energies. Anyone can learn it. With your talent, twenty years should be enough to master it.”
“Twenty… years?”
The brute swallowed dryly.
“And that is only the foundation. The true secrets are in a second volume, safeguarded by my wife. When the child grows, she will recognize him. Only then will you obtain it.”
The brute looked down. The baby, eyes round with curiosity, gazed back at him.
“You understand? Raise him. Keep him safe. In time, you will receive the true legacy.”
Unmyeong stepped back.
“Wait! Why me?!”
“Because I trust you. Take the child south. I’ll go north and draw pursuit. Kill anyone who learns you carry him and the manual, or you’ll be the next target.”
“…You’re insane! How can I raise this brat?”
“I said—I trust you.”
Unmyeong smiled, a warm, genuine smile the brute had never once received in his life.
“I leave it to you, Gwangpae.”
With that, he shot into the night, heading north.
The brute—Gwangpae—stared after him in shock, until a tiny hand tugged his beard.
“Baba!”
“…This little…”
The child laughed, delighted.
Gwangpae clenched his jaw.
“…Raising a brat can’t be that hard.”
Twenty years. If he endured, the complete legacy of the Sword God would be his.
Tucking the manual into his chest, he checked the baby’s pulse and muttered:
“First things first… grow strong.”
Cradling the unexpected child, the mountain of a man sprinted south through the dark forest.
