Prologue
The sky, darkened black, raged in turmoil, and the earth stained red twisted in distortion.
Soon, the world split open with a jagged crack, and in its place, a blackish-red fissure was etched.
It was an ominous sight, as if it would spew forth all manner of unclean things at any moment.
Truly, it was the essence of the evil acts the Heaven Piercing Cult had piled upon this world.
“In the end, have the Heaven Piercing wretches succeeded?”
A man in a tattered gray cloak, clutching a broken sword split in two—Seo Yeonwoo, the ‘Fallen Sword Sovereign(亡劍尊)’, recited venomously.
The Heaven Piercing Cult, which over the past hundred years had repeatedly brought calamity to the Central Plains, realized that there was no chance of winning with force alone.
The Central Plains was vast, and there were many warriors to match.
So, they planted their fanatics who worshiped their ideology across the land, sowing division, while simultaneously preparing a massive ritual capable of overturning the war’s tide.
The ominous fissure clawed across the world must be its result.
Still, ‘there was a chance to stop it’.
No, perhaps there were more than enough.
When the Sword Empress assaulted the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader alone and inflicted a mortal wound.
Or when the Black Heretical Union Leader slaughtered seven of the twelve apostles of Heaven Piercing and perished in mutual destruction.
There were many points where the tide could have changed.
Had the White Path and the Black Path not been locked in their idiotic rivalry, today’s scene wouldn’t have come to pass.
As the end neared, regrets over the unchangeable surged unexpectedly.
Seo Yeonwoo gripped his broken blade tightly, staring at the warped world.
He’d lost comrades whose faces he barely even remembered.
The grudge born from a personal vendetta had led him to a battlefield upon which the fate of the Central Plains balanced.
All of his direct enemies were dead, but unresolved enmity remained.
Because of that, he wanted to wipe the Heaven Piercing Cult from existence.
By strict definition, he would belong to the Black Path, but pushing beyond outdated lines of black and white, he desired only the destruction of Heaven Piercing.
‘I failed.’
Seo Yeonwoo muttered bitterly inside as he raised his broken sword.
If this was to be his last, it was enough to take as many of the Heaven Piercing Cult’s members with him as possible.
His sword cut down enemies whose number he no longer knew, and when even the remnant of his broken blade was spent—
From the undulating fissure emerged a tall figure, hair cascading long.
Their face was bewitchingly beautiful, to the point that it was hard to tell their gender.
And the scar running straight across their face—that had come from a legendary duel with the Sword Empress.
“Heaven Piercing Cult Leader.”
Seo Yeonwoo shouted with passion, sweeping his half-broken sword. But the strike did not even touch the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader.
It had not been dodged; rather, Seo Yeonwoo’s attack had simply been unable to penetrate the cult leader’s curtain of ki.
By mere existence, the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader oppressed their surroundings.
Even the air, even the wind itself, was permeated by a primordial terror.
Seo Yeonwoo felt his throat tightening as he fixed his gaze upon the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader.
Next, the cult leader’s hand lightly swept their face, and the sword-scar vanished.
“I have reached the level of the divine.”
With that declaration, the cult leader lifted a white hand from beneath the wide red sleeves.
A red radiance shone, soon gathering into a single point in their palm.
Next, a bizarre reddish light cut through the world.
―!
The cult leader’s hand thrust out.
A harrowing impact rent the air, as if the world itself screamed.
The laws of the world twisted in an attack that could neither be dodged nor blocked: truly a transcendental strike.
The cult leader’s palm-strike smashed into Seo Yeonwoo’s abdomen.
He vomited blood, staring at the cult leader in disbelief.
He had always known their power was incredible, but was it always to such an untouchable degree?
“Murim Alliance Leader, Black Heretical Union Leader, Sword Empress, Mad Sword Demon, Blossoming Divine Spear… There were quite a few experts who could reach someone who was, at the time, still just human. But you, Fallen Sword Sovereign, were not among them. You were close, but still one step short.”
“….”
“You couldn’t even reach me back when I was just human, so now, you can’t even brush the edge of my sleeve.”
The Heaven Piercing Cult Leader’s voice reverberated through the air.
The force contained within it was powerful enough to shake the world.
“Hah.”
Seo Yeonwoo swallowed down the blood rising in his throat and laughed.
Indeed, there was no denying it.
It was a fact that he did not possess the martial prowess of those who once dominated the world, nor could he oppose the cult leader as they were now.
It was maddeningly frustrating and unfair.
If only he could have taken a single step, just one more—
Regret flashed through Seo Yeonwoo’s mind.
An old memory.
Until he met his master, he had drifted as a vagabond, unable to learn even a single decent martial art.
If only he had learned an advanced martial art a little sooner.
If only he had come a little closer to the absolute realm, he wouldn’t have been defeated so helplessly.
But regret now was meaningless.
If there was anything left to do, it would be something productive, like spoiling the Heaven Piercing Cult’s plans—the enemies he had devoted his life to fighting.
With that in mind, Seo Yeonwoo fixed his gaze on the blackish-red fissure eating away at the world.
If he could not kill the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader, then he would aim for something else.
He gathered every last bit of strength he had left—even his very life force.
The way he surged at the cult leader was more elegant and precise than any sword he had ever unleashed in his life.
The cult leader, too, had to raise both hands to receive the attack.
The moment the two collided, Seo Yeonwoo sensed time stretch infinitely.
A nearly awakened state.
Yet the cult leader still seemed as deep and viscous as an abyss—so powerful and evil it was impossible even to fathom their depth.
But if it was not the cult leader—
Then, perhaps, there was a way.
Relying on a fleeting flash of inspiration, Seo Yeonwoo willingly gave up his greatest strike.
A gamble, thrown in desperation.
He released the sword from his hand—no, accurately speaking, he threw it.
Even his innate vital force was loaded into the throw. The blade shot forth like a flash of light.
Mid-flight, the sword’s trajectory twisted. An impossible scenario—this was the profound principle of “sword manipulation”.
Soon, the sword pierced the fissure behind the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader.
Who knew what value this action might have, but Seo Yeonwoo did not hesitate.
In that moment, a transcendent exhilaration overcame him, as if he were standing above all creation.
“Hah—!”
The cult leader sneered coldly, thrusting out his hand.
At the same time, a power from that hand pulled the sword out of the fissure.
The technique, commonly known as “void grasp”, was unleashed from the cult leader’s hand. An overwhelming attractive force.
The sheer power was enough to distort space, trying to pull the sword free from the fissure.
Seo Yeonwoo, veins bulging in his eyes, watched it unfold. A venomous determination surged inside him.
His dogged malice—to cut the fissure at all costs—infused the sword.
Blood-tears streamed from his crimson eyes.
But he did not yield.
Even if the opponent had reached the realm of the divine, he too had once debated the fate of the world with a single sword.
“Go!”
Seo Yeonwoo shouted to his own sword—as if it were his dying wish.
At those words, the sword, previously unable to advance against the counterforce, suddenly flashed.
CRACKKKK—!
With an explosion like dozens of thunderbolts, the fissure collapsed.
“So far I came… Only to be stopped by the likes of you…!”
Always maintaining the dignity and grace of an absolute master, the cult leader muttered coldly.
A heartbeat later, his furious “piercing hand” drove through Seo Yeonwoo’s heart.
Seo Yeonwoo, having spent everything on the previous sword attack, accepted the blow without resistance.
Fresh blood spewed, agony certifying his death swept through his body.
“You bastard, taking me lightly to the end.”
Even in the midst of this, the cult leader’s shock and rage delighted Seo Yeonwoo, who spoke cheerfully as his breath drifted away.
As the vivid sense of death overtook him, Seo Yeonwoo saw the fissure dispersing in myriad brilliant colors.
Countless blood-red lines intertwined, twisted and dissolved. It was almost grandiose, even beautiful.
Whatever the details, their plans must surely have unraveled now.
At the close of his grudge-filled life, Seo Yeonwoo felt a sliver of satisfaction.
‘All the same, I am bitter. Bitter that I could not kill you, cult leader. That I could not prevent the Heaven Piercing Cult from setting the world ablaze.’
As he exhaled a breath tainted with venom, the sense of death became real—
A ray of light shot from the fissure. An uncanny, milky-white flash.
Hurtling at unimaginable speed, it reached between Seo Yeonwoo’s brows in an instant.
The white flash penetrated his brow; there was no pain, no foreign sensation.
Only the peculiar feeling of all things twisting and distorting surrounded him.
A type of sensation he had never felt in his life—an exaltation, not of pain or pleasure, but something fundamentally mysterious.
As if the whole world were rewinding.
“What is—?!”
Before he could fully parse this sensation, he heard the astonished voice of the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader brush his ear—and consciousness faded.
SMACK!
What roused Seo Yeonwoo’s awareness was the sting of a slap across his cheek.
His head whipped to the side; a metallic taste filled his mouth.
“So what was the point of running so hard when you’d be caught anyway, idiot?”
Opening his eyes with effort, he spotted the gruff, thickly bearded brute clicking his tongue.
‘What is this situation?’
He had clearly fought the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader—sent the cult leader into panic with a desperate gambit, despite overwhelming disadvantage.
But when his innate ki ran out and his heart was pierced, he was surely dead.
“How am I alive?”
Seo Yeonwoo muttered in bewilderment.
“How do you think, you bastard? It’s thanks to us, the Black Sand Gang, not having torn your limbs off yet.”
The bearded brute scoffed at his words.
“… Black Sand Gang?”
Seo Yeonwoo echoed in confusion.
Black Sand Gang. A faint but familiar name in his memories.
That was the beginning of his deep enmity with the Heaven Piercing Cult.
A 3rd-rate gang of the Black Path that preyed on commoners with crude martial arts.
There were uncountable such gangs in the Central Plains, growing like weeds.
The Black Sand Gang was just one of them.
Seo Yeonwoo had been a 3rd-rate vagabond, running errands in such gangs’ skirmishes.
‘It was that Black Sand Gang that was connected to the Heaven Piercing Cult.’
More precisely, the Black Sand Gang’s leader, on Heaven Piercing’s orders, provided them with living sacrifices.
He had survived by dodging a poisoned meal he’d noticed, but all of his fellow vagabonds were taken and killed by Heaven Piercing.
For a long time after, Seo Yeonwoo was hunted by the Black Sand Gang.
They became Heaven Piercing Cult’s vanguard, distributing opium throughout the Central Plains.
Seo Yeonwoo personally massacred them all.
Even though he was only a 3rd-rate vagabond, he had remarkable talent, which made it possible.
“You look completely spaced out.”
The brute’s voice pulled Seo Yeonwoo from his musings. The brute’s rough hand flew again for another slap.
But before it could land, Seo Yeonwoo caught his wrist.
“This bastard—”
The brute shouted in incredulity.
Seo Yeonwoo paid him no mind and looked around.
Behind the brute stood two more men from the Black Sand Gang—a one-eyed man wielding a cleaver, and a dwarf wielding an unnaturally thin sword.
The dwarf, especially, was familiar.
A mid-ranking Black Sand officer who used to recruit vagabonds.
Also, a tracker who had persistently hunted him. Seo Yeonwoo distinctly remembered killing this very man.
‘What on earth is going on?’
Events from over twenty years ago were unfolding before his eyes. No—it wasn’t just the situation.
“You bastard!”
The bearded brute, having shaken off Seo Yeonwoo’s grip, drew his sword and charged.
Seo Yeonwoo instantly regained composure, observing the brute’s movement with a cold gaze.
Even if his current body was wretched, once, he had been a swordsman known as Sword Sovereign, one who rivaled the top of the world.
He would not lose to common thugs, or else countless fallen experts would weep in their graves.
‘Full of openings.’
Seo Yeonwoo sighed at the brute’s motions.
The opponent was certainly weak, but so was Seo Yeonwoo’s own body—full of gaps but still not easily toppled.
Sllk—
Seo Yeonwoo’s form slid smoothly, moving on instinct rather than internal energy, his steps relying entirely on physical agility.
With that one step, he slipped out of the brute’s sword trajectory.
“Kgh.”
Having lost his target, the brute staggered in confusion.
‘As expected, my legs are still short—’
Ducking the attack, Seo Yeonwoo noted idly. His stride was shorter than expected.
Even as random thoughts flickered, he sharpened his hand into a karate-chop and struck the brute’s wrist precisely.
With a dull smack, the brute’s grip weakened and his sword fell.
Before the sword hit the ground, Seo Yeonwoo elegantly hooked it up with his toe, snatched it from midair.
With a sword in his hand, his aura was suddenly different—a dangerous, predatory flow, exuding confidence.
No matter how lacking his internal power or body training, he was still the swordsman once called the Sword Sovereign.
“Still too short.”
Seo Yeonwoo muttered indifferently.
The brute could not discern the meaning, not that he had time to ask.
Seo Yeonwoo’s shoulder muscles coiled, sword-arm whirled.
Following that, a thunderous, descending slash.
The brute, still in confusion, stared dumbly at the sword rushing towards him.
“Fool, dodge!”
The dwarf, the most sensitive among them, shouted a warning, but it was too late—the sword’s path was too clever.
A red line appeared on the brute’s neck. The next instant, with a dull sound, his head hit the ground.
‘My internal power really is pathetic.’
Seo Yeonwoo thought without even glancing at the corpse.
He’d always been shackled by lack of internal energy before learning an advanced cultivation method from his master.
So, even now, his breathing was already slightly strained, but he did not show it at all.
A true fight required not just skill, but momentum.
His eyes slanted downward with feigned indifference and arrogance.
Feigning composure, Seo Yeonwoo charged at the one-eyed man. In the moonlight, his silhouette glinted ominously.
Swiftness was key. He had to finish this before his incomplete body gave out.
The dwarf was dumbfounded.
That brat had always run like a ghost. Even being caught, the dwarf half-expected him to pull some trick.
But this was far beyond his imagination.
‘The bearded oaf was a little reckless, but that was too easy. He shouldn’t have been taken out so quickly by a brat…’
The dwarf, though a 3rd-rate black path officer, was a veteran.
But he’d never heard of someone transforming so suddenly.
The sword-wielding Seo Yeonwoo seemed a different breed, exuding mortal threat more intense than any true expert the dwarf had ever seen.
His instincts screamed danger.
Suppressing rising fear, the dwarf gripped his sword. In that moment, Seo Yeonwoo charged them with the momentum of a tiger.
He went for the one-eyed man first. The one-eyed man’s cleaver clashed with Seo Yeonwoo’s sword, ringing sharply.
‘Good. If he’d come after me, I’d have been done for, but attacking the one-eye gives me hope.’
One hand cannot match two—though in the world of martial experts, that proverb was useless, the dwarf had to cling to any hope.
He tried to circle behind Seo Yeonwoo—but his hope was dashed when something the size of a human head flew at him.
“What the—!”
Dodging it with a curse, the dwarf was horrified. It was the decapitated head of his comrade, disbelief frozen in the remaining eye.
The one-eyed man too perished, unable to evade Seo Yeonwoo’s blade.
The dwarf, trembling with terror, refused to run; to show his back was courting death. He would fight.
His thin sword struck at Seo Yeonwoo—a heavy, swift thrust, singing through the air.
It was clear he was a step above the other two.
Seo Yeonwoo blocked it, but his body yielded slightly to the blow.
‘This isn’t so bad. I can take him.’
The dwarf assessed Seo Yeonwoo’s level—not exceptional internal or external martial prowess, befitting a 3rd-rate vagabond.
The first two were just idiots, he convinced himself, and attacked all the more fiercely.
With each exchange, that conviction grew—Seo Yeonwoo yielding before him.
“Ugh.”
Finally, a stifled gasp escaped Seo Yeonwoo. The dwarf’s confidence soared. Victory seemed within reach.
He soon spotted a fatal opening—certain this strike would kill Seo Yeonwoo.
The dwarf thrust with all his might.
But with a simple twist, Seo Yeonwoo slipped the attack, closing in immediately.
“Did you really think you could cut me?”
Standing before the dwarf, Seo Yeonwoo smirked. At the same time, his foot smashed the dwarf’s shin.
“Argh!”
When the dwarf cried out, losing his balance, Seo Yeonwoo’s sword flashed.
The dwarf felt the world spin, then saw his own headless torso.
“Did you really think you could cut me?”
The taunt he’d made while felling the dwarf echoed in Seo Yeonwoo’s mind.
The dwarf could never have cut him, no matter how weak Seo Yeonwoo was now—the experiences between them were incomparable.
The same was true for the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader.
In the end, Seo Yeonwoo had felt an immense gulf at that final moment.
A dull blade, feeble strength. Beheading someone cleanly in one strike under such conditions was difficult.
So he had swung his sword with utmost subtlety, as if slicing a single strand.
It was an extravagance—to be so precise, merely to kill 3rd-rate black path grunts.
He had become pitifully weak.
But if he truly had returned to his past days being pursued by the Black Sand Gang—
‘Things may be different this time.’
He thought, looking at his trembling hand.
Because he began advanced martial cultivation late and picked up bad habits from years as a vagabond, he was always a step behind the true experts.
But if he rebuilt his martial path step by step from now, perhaps reaching the Heaven Piercing Cult Leader would not just be a dream.
His current frailness was nothing but an obstacle to be overcome.
What’s more, this was before the Heaven Piercing Cult had recovered and rampaged.
If he disrupted their plots and prevented the division of the great sects, there was hope for the martial world.
To achieve that, he needed overwhelming influence in the martial world.
First was his own martial prowess.
Whether righteous, black, or even the fanatics of the Heaven Piercing Cult, all respected strength above all.
But the divisions in the righteous martial world—the so-called “white path”—could not be solved by power alone, for they cared about justification and procedure.
The backbone of the righteous path was the Nine Great Sects and Six Great Clans.
The Six Great Clans were bloodline-based and it was too late to become a core disciple of a great sect.
As for the Beggar’s Union—he didn’t want to be a beggar, so that was out.
That left the Murim Alliance.
A union of the white path’s great sects, but also a mighty independent force: one with influence over them all.
Seo Yeonwoo resolved that, in this life, he would join the Murim Alliance to move the white path.
But before that—
Seo Yeonwoo gazed at the corpses of the Black Sand Gang’s trackers.
Though he’d taken revenge once already in the past, these were certainly the ones who had killed his fellow vagabonds.
In any case, if left alone, pursuit would continue. It was time to end it.
His eyes flashed coldly.
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