Long ago, humans created martial arts to protect themselves from yōkai, spirit beasts, and other dangerous creatures.
But as the age of yōkai ended and all other harmful beings faded, martial arts evolved into a method of killing enemies efficiently, growing more sophisticated and complex.
A single movement split into multiple forms, and cultivation gave rise to the mastery of internal energy commonly known as Qi.
Martial artists formed their own groups and associations, passing down their techniques to the next generation of practitioners, either through their own children or through disciples.
This allowed their arts to flourish and evolve until, eventually, martial artists surpassed ordinary humans.
They could shatter boulders with raw strength, cleave trees with a single sword slash, and soar through the sky.
These individuals became known as Murim Warriors, the people of Murim/Jianghu.
a realm where martial artists rise and fall, fighting for their ideals beyond the control of the four great nations.
Yet martial artists craved even greater power, so they formed clans and sects, which eventually coalesced into factions.
Those who wielded martial arts for honor and justice became the Orthodox Heaven, or more commonly, the Murim Alliance.
Those who sought glory and power were called the Unorthodox Heaven, or the Unorthodox Creek.
Three more factions emerged, adhering to "survival of the fittest" and worshipping unorthodox deities:
Those who seek to drench the world in blood became the Blood Heaven, or the Blood Cult.
Those who sought to be above mortal agony and suffering became the Demonic Heaven, or the Demonic Cult.
Lastly and most feared was the Death Heaven, or the Heaven's Death Religious Order, which emerged 800 years prior and shook the world.
Its followers used martial arts to force the world to confront its inherent pain in hopes of changing it for the better.
Today, the Murim is a cauldron of tense competition, with all factions clashing over their conflicting ideals.
This is the story of Jeonsa Grace, the illegitimate heir to the Heaven's Death 28th Cult leader, as he embarks a path of no return.
****
"HUUUUUUH?!"
I had been staring at the mirror for a while, shocked and unable to process what I was seeing.
"What is this?! I'm young again!"
I couldn't believe the strange situation where I now looked like my younger self for reasons unknown.
I examined myself from every angle, searching for any discrepancy to prove my eyes wrong, only to find none.
"There's no denying it as this was my appearance when I was young."
I had no choice but to accept that, for some unknown reason, I had reverted to my younger appearance.
Confusion lingered over my mind as I wondered how this happened, recalling anything that could explain this.
'Did that scroll really hold the miraculous power the Founder left behind?'
As I recalled the moments before my death, a memory surfaced as something that might have contributed to this.
Although my eyes were blurry as I was dying and losing the strength to keep them open, the last thing I saw and heard was the scroll.
The scroll floating in the air, glowing text blooming across its blank parchment, and the strange light that latched onto me and enveloped me as the masked men tried to interfere.
I concluded that it must have been the miraculous power left by the Founder within the scroll, as it was the only explanation that made sense.
'To think that seemingly useless scroll brought me back to my youth!'
I was astonished that the scroll I had deemed useless and worthless had saved me from death.
Still dumbfounded, I glanced around the familiar small room, observing the place I found myself in.
'This room is familiar... where am I exactly? Did someone save me? No, no... there's no way anyone could save me from those wounds.'
While the scroll may have saved me, I tried convincing myself that it was still just a blank parchment so I wouldn't feel guilty for treating such a valuable item carelessly.
But deep down, I knew I couldn't delude myself. Those wounds were far too fatal for anyone to save me anyone except the Divine Doctor.
The small room felt very familiar, as if I had been here many times before.
Then, as I took a closer look and observed the entire place, a sudden realization struck me as a memory of the past resurfaced.
'This was my room 20 years ago!'
I was stunned. Not only had the scroll reverted my appearance, it also brought me to a place identical to my old room from two decades prior.
'Wait... perhaps it wasn't that my appearance was changed and I was placed in a copy of my room, but instead I had regressed back to my youth!'
I concluded that regression was the reason for my current situation, as it aligned perfectly with the scroll's mysterious power.
This also explained my circumstances, and regression made far more sense.
"Wait! if I'm truly in the past, then perhaps!"
If I had regressed, that meant I was truly back in the past.
I wasted no time and headed toward the door, excited to see the people I cared about once again.
But as I rushed toward it, my bare foot stepped on something wet, stopping me in my tracks.
"Blood?"
A puddle of blood spread across the floor, it felt cold, as if it had been there for quite some time.
"That's weird... why would there be a puddle of blood in my room?"
I muttered in confusion, unsure why blood was on the floor.
I noticed a book lying near the cold puddle, slightly stained with blood.
'A book?'
I picked it up and read the title, eyes widening in surprise at its familiar name.
"Nine Suffering Expression?"
The Nine Suffering Expression was the Heaven's Death Religious Order's basic cultivation technique, taught to all members.
I had read it many times in my youth, so I vaguely remembered its contents.
Seeing it again after so many years startled me, but it didn't answer any of my questions.
I've read this so many times in my youth, I can't even use this as a clue to the puddle of blood.
I began scanning the room for more hints to explain the reason and source of the puddle of blood.
That was until I heard faint footsteps slowly approaching the door to this room.
'Footsteps!?'
Without thinking, I dashed toward the bed, dropped the book, lay down, and pretended to sleep with my breathing steady and natural.
'Why did I do that?'
I was confused at my sudden instinctive reaction to mere footsteps.
'I guess after the life-or-death chase I endured before my regression, it's normal to act like this.'
My body acted on instinct, still primed to flee after experiencing such danger.
After a moment, the footsteps stopped just outside the door having arrived.
A few knocks sounded. When no reply came, the door slowly creaked open.
CREAK!
A gray-haired old man with weary eyes entered, wearing servant attire. He stood upright with a towel slung over his arm and a bucket in his hands.
"Haah Honestly, Young Master, why would you continue to force yourself to cultivate when you know it's killing you?"
The old man knelt beside the bed and muttered in a frustrated yet worried voice toward the "sleeping" Jeonsa.
"You and I both know that cultivating is impossible for you. Your body can't even harness Qi. For your own safety, please just stop and gi-"
He stopped, unwilling to say the rest.
After calming himself, the old man stood up and walked away, but not before giving one last look at Jeonsa.
"Young Master, the Life and Death Doctor has yet to arrive, so please endure until then."
The old man knelt, put down the bucket, and began cleaning the puddle of blood.
This took a while, so I had to continue pretending to sleep. I stayed silent so silent I didn't even speak in my own mind.
CREAK!
After a while, Geonu finished cleaning and left the room. Only then did I sigh in relief.
I looked at the door not at the door itself, but at the old man who had just left.
Geonu.
The old man was Wang Geonwoo, or Geonu what I like to call him, my personal bodyguard assigned by my father, the 28th Cult Leader of the Heaven's Religious Order.
He was the person I was rushing to see before getting distracted by the puddle of blood.
He had practically raised me from a young age after my mother died when I was seven.
He was more like a father to me than my real father, who never once came to see me.
Hearing his voice eased my tense, survival-driven instincts. His presence alone brought a sense of protection.
I recalled what Geonu said while I pretended to sleep, and it gave a major clue as to why there was blood and a cultivation manual on the floor.
'Wait... Geonu said something about me forcefully cultivating! Is he referring to that incident?'
That incident was one of my insane attempts at cultivation-the first of many during my youth.
I had found a Qi herb out in the woods and attempted to forcefully open my clogged meridians.
But it failed. The Qi went rampant inside my body, causing severe internal injuries, and I coughed blood onto the floor.
'That would explain the blood and the book lying on the floor.'
That wasn't the worst part. Due to the severity of the injuries, I fell into a coma for an entire month.
That's why, when Geonu found me with severe internal injuries, he quickly sent a message to the Life and Death Doctor for help.
I don't remember anything from my coma, but I heard that the Life and Death Doctor came, treated me, and left before I woke up.
This not only explained the blood it also gave me a rough idea of the time period I had regressed to.
'I see... This was after my first insane attempt at cultivation.'
While I didn't know exactly how many days had passed since my attempt, I at least had a rough estimate.
And even this rough knowledge opened up a great opportunity for me.
With my knowledge from my life before regression, I could turn things around.
As the Head Scholar of the Xuanwu Dynasty's History Division, I had studied decades of history from past, present, and the upcoming future.
I knew secrets, alliances, and opportunities no one else at this time could know.
'Great! with this knowledge I can gain opportunities meant for others and take them for myself!'
But my hope quickly faltered as I realized a crucial issue I had ignored.
'Right even if I knew future opportunities... I can't benefit from them. I still can't cultivate.'
I was born incapable of cultivation, my body could not harness Qi in general which was needed for cultivation.
Because of that, I had a frail body prone to illness and disease which results in me always being sick every few days.
To martial artists, I was what they mocked as a cripple despite me not being handicapped from a lose of a limb, a lose of a sense, or mental disability.
Most of the knowledge I remembered involved cultivation, and those future opportunities required cultivation.
Even with a second chance and new opportunities, I lacked the ability to use them.
'At least I can now see Geonu... and perhaps I can turn some of my scholarly knowledge into something beneficial.'
I was about to settle for a compromise, to just being happy with what I regained that was until my gaze fell onto something.
The Nine Suffering Expression cultivation manual rested on the table, placed there after Geonu cleaned.
"This book..."
Suddenly, an intense familiar craving erupted within me, telling me to cultivate and obtain power.
I held my head in pain as unknown whispers filled my mind, nearly driving me on the brink of insanity.
'This is-!?'
I recognized the intense craving, the whispers drowning my mind with the desire for power.
This craving had went unnoticed through out and has plagued me ever since my mother death.
It pushed me toward cultivation, no matter the cost that was why I attempted insane methods.
'Why do I always feel this intense craving whenever a path to power appears? Am I so obsessed that it controlled my life?'
Only after regressing did I take notice of this intense craving that has been present a majority of my life.
I never knew why I felt this way. I always unconsciously ignored it and let it take over and became a person control by obsession.
That obsession controlled my entire life choices until the day I died before regressing.
'I guess I let it rule me. It took dying and regressing to realize it.
I can't let it keep controlling my choices!'
Finally seeing the unnatural behavior of my past due to this intense craving I knew this had to change.
I forced myself to seize control of the craving, drowning out the whispers and resisting the desire.
It took sometime, but I somehow eventually suppressed it although not completely.
Only now had I grabbed hold of this craving. I could finally make choices of my own free will, even if the craving would never fully vanish.
'Every desire has a reason a purpose... but what is this craving for? I don't know.'
It had been with me for so long, yet I never understood it's true purpose.
'Perhaps it's the craving for strength? No if it was only that then I would instantly know I just... don't know.'
Since I didn't know its true purpose, I considered giving it one.
'If this craving has no direction, then I'll guide it toward the direction I want.'
Although I didn't know its original purpose, I could redirect it to somewhere else at least for now.
But the next part required a more careful thought to decide properly.
'What purpose should I lead it toward... perhaps protecting Geonu and the others?'
After much thought, I decided to focus the craving on protecting Geonu and the people I cared about.
But protect them from what?
Then realization hit me as memories of the past came flooding back.
'Wait... if this is the month after I entered the coma, then-!'
I remembered the event in my previous life that has yet to happen that changed my life forever.
'Then I only have three months or less before "That Day" arrives.'
I called that event "That Day" because I couldn't bear to speak of what happened that day.
With this realization came urgency, and I decided that overcoming "That Day" would be the temporary purpose for the craving.
'But how would I do that? I can't cultivate... and even if I could, can I become strong enough before "That Day" comes?'
There were three major issues standing in my way:
First, I had to solve my inability to cultivate since i need it to obtain strength not just for "That Day" but also for the future.
Second, I had three months or less to create strategies to prevent the tragedy.
Third, even if I solved the first two, how could I grow strong fast enough to be of help?
'Urgh... how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?
Everything seemed hopeless. With limited time and such dire conditions, reaching the needed strength was almost impossible.'
But even so, with the craving redirected toward protecting Geonu and the others, I continued despite the odds.
Slap!
"No time to waste dwelling on hopelessness. I have to think of a way."
I slapped both cheeks, snapping out of despair and motivating myself with the goal of protecting Geonu and the others.
I began thinking of all the methods I learned in the past to overcome my cultivation incapability.
Eventually, I recalled one method.
An insane method.
'Wait... perhaps that method could work! But it's risky, and I'm unsure if it will actually succeed.'
It was one of the insane methods I had discovered no more like i created but never attempted before regression.
It was a extremely dangerous method that just one wrong step meant certain death.
I tried coming up with other possibilities, but everything else was something I had already attempted and failed.
'It seems this is the only method with any chance of succeeding... but one wrong step and I'm dead.'
I was still unsure. Its chances of success were only theoretical not based on actual successful results.
But I needed to take this risk. Otherwise, the people I cared for would die again and the craving is pushed me forward.
'I have no choice. If I don't act, Geonu and the rest will die. If I truly want to save them, I must gamble my life.'
After gathering my courage, I decided to use the risky method, willing to risk my life for even a glimpse of hope.
I realized that a person can gamble their life to obtain what they desire so one would have to gamble for what was important or worth risking their life for.
'It's better to risk dying trying than to die in regret from not having tried at all.'
Then Jeonsa's Gamble of life or death began this very moment