🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 1
The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Clan
A vibrating stench of blood.
The smell of blood emanating from corpses scattered across the mountains attracted all sorts of wild animals.
Caw—caw—
Above, flocks of crows circled, eyeing an opportunity.
The horrific scene seemed to speak of a brutal battle.
There were so many bodies lying about that it was impossible to count them.
Yet the survivors did not stop moving. Like a hunting party driving prey, they advanced in unison toward the mountain peak.
At the mountain’s summit, those who had already finished their hunt glared sharply with their swords pointed at a man.
“Huff… huff…”
A man of grand stature stood there.
But his appearance was dreadful.
From head to toe, his clothes soaked in blood to the point their original color was unrecognizable.
His body was covered in cuts and stab wounds, and dozens of arrows jutted out from his back.
The injuries alone were enough to kill a man instantly, yet his eyes staring straight ahead were like those of a wild beast.
Several human figures appeared before him.
Their gaze, looking down on him, was cold.
Finally, one of them threw a bundle at the man’s feet.
The bundle rolled and unwrapped, revealing a severed head.
At that moment, the man, who had seemed unshakable, collapsed.
With trembling hands, he caressed the face of someone who had been with him for a long time.
“…Chuhyeong.”
“With this one, all the retainers who served you are dead.”
Hearing those words, the man swallowed hard.
This was someone like a close friend, someone who had survived alongside him from childhood.
Even when the clan fell, this person stayed by his side, helping him survive.
It wasn’t just Chuhyeong.
Over more than a decade, all those who had helped and hidden him despite the clan’s collapse appeared in his mind, one by one.
The deaths of these people shook his eyes even more.
“Over ten years, Gongja… To think the day would come to end this chase.”
Shrrrk—
At those words, the sound of unsheathing swords echoed.
The footsteps of approaching men pierced his ears.
He looked up, meeting the gaze of the men.
Their eyes shone with a vitality that no dying person could possess.
“Ho Yeonjin, Ju Yeomchan, So Gu-hyeon… Yeom Jihak.”
He spoke their names one by one. Each time a name was spoken, their expressions tightened.
These were men he had barely encountered once, yet he remembered them all.
“You have an extraordinary memory, Gongja. No wonder you survived in our grasp for over ten years.”
“Haha… Hahaha hahahaha—!”
The insane laughter that followed spread across the mountain.
Even in the face of death, he showed no fear, confronting them boldly.
The man staggered, struggling to stand.
“Hahaha! Is ten years a long time? A hundred? A thousand years, I will chase you to the end and tear you apart!”
“…”
“With your blood, I will dye Dongjeong Lake red. Until your seed dries up and burns to ashes, this fight will not end! Even if it’s in hell! Hahaha—!”
He spat a bloody curse and laughed again.
His laughter echoed across the mountains, fearless even with death looming over him.
At that moment, he took from his chest a jade ornament that glowed with a faint green light.
It radiated an aura so strange it seemed one could be drawn into it at a glance.
At the same time, the onlookers’ eyes widened.
“That is…?!”
Startled, they rushed forward, but it was futile.
The man shoved the jade into his mouth and bit down.
Crunch—crunch—!
Like biting a hard candy, he chewed the jade, shards cutting his mouth.
With each bite, blood dripped from his lips.
Were they intimidated by his spirit?
No one dared move as the jade shattered in real time.
“What are you doing?! Take it—now!”
“Kuh?!”
The stunned men sprang forward.
But the man only smiled through his blood.
He seemed to find their pale expressions amusing.
Finally, he stepped back slightly and spread his arms.
“Even in death… I will not die for you!”
Turning his back to the desolate sky, he whispered as those approaching watched. The words were muffled by the noise, but the intent was clear.
“No—!”
The man fell from the cliff of the Thousand-Fathom Precipice.
His outstretched hand barely brushed against his clothing.
All that could be seen was his endless descent.
Thud—!
Soon, the sound of something breaking echoed.
A throne exists in a place only visible if one raises their gaze—a throne for the Absolute.
The Absolute sat crookedly, resting his chin in apparent boredom, gazing down.
Unable to bear his boredom, he closed his eyes as if to nap. None of the gathered people dared lift their heads or speak, bowing silently.
Flash!
Then, the man’s eyes opened.
He took in the scene at a glance.
Countless people bowed, worshiping him.
His gaze swept over them, a strange sense of déjà vu filling him.
It was as if he had experienced this before.
Feeling that, he looked at his wrist.
A faintly glowing red jade ornament caught his eye.
He slowly raised his hand, examining it as if it were the most precious object in the world.
His expression and gaze were entirely consumed by the jade.
It was not only him.
Those bowing could not help but glance at the jade, their breaths rough, entranced.
It was a stone imbued with divine power.
Just looking at it felt as though one could embrace the world.
Yet his eyes narrowed.
Crack!
He clenched the jade tightly. It shattered into dust, which bizarrely began to be absorbed into his body.
“Ah—”
Small gasps were heard.
But the Absolute did not permit anyone to speak, nor did he acknowledge them.
He only cast an indifferent gaze, thinking of the vanished jade.
Then, he realized something.
“Something is wrong.”
Though he could not recall, this déjà vu gave him the answer.
Something had gone terribly wrong.
“Gongja! Are you alright?”
A familiar voice he had forgotten rang in his ears.
Instantly, he opened his eyes at the sight of an elderly man.
Kind features, concerned eyes…
Seeing the man looking at him, he unconsciously reached out.
Thud!
“Oh! I’m dying!”
“W-What’s wrong, Gongja?!”
The old man tumbled, and another shouted nearby.
Turning his head, he saw a familiar face—tall, muscular, commanding.
It was Jang Chuhyeong from the last moment he remembered.
“Chu… Hyung?”
“Yes, it’s me, but why are you doing this? What if you hit Elder Hong?”
“Hong… Elder?”
His ears registered the words, but his mind hadn’t caught up.
He stared at the fallen Elder Hong, then scanned the large, familiar room.
It was vast, decorated with priceless items. Just a few could support ordinary people for a lifetime.
“My… room?” Cough—
Incomprehension made him cough.
He slowly turned to Jang Chuhyeong, who looked confused.
“Are you okay?”
He gently touched Chuhyeong’s cheek, and past memories flashed through his mind.
He pinched Chuhyeong’s cheek unconsciously.
“Ahhh—!”
A scream echoed, vivid and real.
Startled, Chuhyeong pulled away, and the man rose to his feet.
Cough, cough!
Once again, he coughed, but there was no time to linger.
“Gongja?!”
“Why is he doing that?!”
“I don’t know!”
Pat-pat
He hurriedly left the room.
Passing through the familiar corridor, memories flooded back.
Huff… huff…
Each breath grew heavier, until he ran, opening another door.
Before him lay a scene so familiar and longed for.
Cough!
In front of a massive door lay the Peach Garden Village.
Flowers, trees, rocks, ponds arranged harmoniously, seemingly for one person alone.
It was breathtaking, like a living painting.
He stepped outside, revealing a vast estate resembling an imperial palace.
At its center stood the Nanyang Clan residence, surrounded by outbuildings overseeing various grounds.
He was in a special annex reserved for the youngest son.
“What… happened… cough…”
He looked around slowly, realizing everything was intact.
The Nanyang Clan, once the absolute financial power of the Central Plains, thought destroyed…
And he was its youngest, Jin Cheonwoo.
This place had long been destroyed, yet here it stood.
It made no sense.
Could it be a dream? No. The wind, the scent of grass, the sun—none of it was false.
“Greetings, Gongja!”
“How are you feeling today?”
Familiar voices reached him.
Those he had seen since childhood, those who had died.
He clenched his fist.
“Could it be…?”
Returned?
It defied all logic.
Yet everything—the people, their voices, the scenery—felt so vivid it could not be a dream.
He swallowed, thinking.
Why?
Nothing was certain.
Then, a thought came.
He quickened his pace toward the highest building in the estate.
The Ancestral Hall.
A place forbidden to those outside the main lineage.
He opened the firmly locked doors.
Countless memorial tablets filled the hall.
But that was not what he sought.
At the deepest part of the floor lay a small box.
Hoo…
He opened it slowly.
Click!
Inside…
The jade.
Not the glowing green one, but lifeless.
A gentle wind blew, and the jade crumbled to dust, vanishing completely.
“Hah… haha.”
He sat in disbelief, staring at the memorial tablets.
“Had I known its power, everyone would have wanted it.”
Yes. It could send a person back in time.
Anyone discovering such an impossible object would go mad.
It explained why the clan was annihilated.
Powerful people, martial artists, all drawn by it.
He realized why they risked their lives to find it.
He thought of the vanished jade, swallowing hard.
Surely, there was more than one.
Others of similar or different power must exist.
He composed himself and lit incense.
“Thanks… I owe my survival to this.”
Not just a little help—he had faced death.
Even if he survived the cliff, he would not have lasted half a day without it.
Yet here he was—alive, and returned to the past.
Cough—cough—
He wiped blood from his mouth, smiling faintly, stepping out of the Ancestral Hall, heading back to the main estate.
The familiar scenes of his childhood lay before him.
A lively courtyard.
No one dead, no fires, no destruction.
It stirred emotions in him, though he steadied himself. Death’s shadow still loomed.
Cough—cough—
Blood on his hand reminded him.
A year before the clan’s downfall, he had been poisoned, weak, constantly coughing.
Countless doctors had failed to find the cause.
He smiled wryly.
Having overcome it once, could it really be hard a second time?
“Cough! This time, it won’t go as you plan.”
He clenched his fist, feeling his nails cut his skin, blood flowing.
But it was fine. It proved he was alive.
