Corpses. Nothing but corpses.
The canyon was thick with a nauseating stench of blood—a scent so foul that merely breathing sent the metallic tang deep into the lungs.
Phenoix Fall Canyon
The ill-omened canyon where Fengchu, the brilliant strategist and close confidant of Emperor Liu Bei, was said to have met a tragic end.
Once again, countless souls were shedding their blood upon this earth.
All because of a single man standing guard over the pass.
"Monster."
"He's not even human."
"How can a bastard like that be called a Great Hero? 'Bloodthirsty Demon' suits him better."
The number of bodies strewn across the ground easily exceeded three hundred.
Every single one of them was a warrior who would have been hailed as a first-rate master anywhere else. Yet, they had all lost their lives to one man.
A man drenched in blood from head to toe, gripping twin swords in his hands.
The Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
He was the one who had manifested this living hell.
Of course, he wasn't unscathed. While most of the blood coating his body belonged to his enemies, the pool forming at his feet was his own.
Despite sustaining injuries that should have claimed his life long ago, the corners of his mouth curled into a lopsided smirk. He addressed the masters of the Unorthodox Faction, who were staring at him as if he were a vengeful ghost.
"You punks…"
"..."
"What are you waiting for?"
"..."
He raised a hand and beckoned with his fingers.
"Step up."
In that instant, the masters of the Unorthodox Faction surrounding him felt a chill run down their spines.
His injuries were so severe it was a miracle he was still breathing. He looked so precarious that a common street thug, let alone a martial artist, could have knocked him over with a light shove.
And yet…
'…Why?'
'Why can't I…?'
'I can't move.'
It was as if someone had driven stakes through their feet; they couldn't budge an inch.
They had to attack now.
They had to strike this very moment.
But they couldn't.
For a warrior of the Unorthodox Faction, what greater achievement was there than taking the head of a titan from the Orthodox Faction? If they could just step forward, the Radiant Dragon Hero's head would be theirs. A chance more precious than a thousand bars of gold was right before their eyes.
Their minds knew this clearly, but…
'Dammit…'
'I can't go.'
Not a single person could take that step.
Watching them, Jincheon spoke with an air of indifference.
"Boring bastards."
"..."
"If you won't come to me…"
As he spoke, Jincheon's knees bent slightly. Simultaneously, the Unorthodox warriors in front of him flinched, instinctively recoiling a step.
Jincheon licked his lips and declared:
"Then I'll come to you."
With those words, the Radiant Dragon's form became a streak of light—true to his title—and plunged into the ranks of the Unorthodox Faction masters.
"Ugh… Aaaargh!"
"Kill him!"
Only then did the Unorthodox warriors swing their weapons in a desperate frenzy.
Once more, a storm of blood swept through the canyon.
Every time a flash of light flickered, the head of an Unorthodox master fell. In the midst of the chaos, the weapons swung with dogged persistence left fresh gashes on Jincheon's body. Small and large wounds accumulated, dragging him closer and closer to death.
But even at the very end, his blades did not falter.
Whenever his light-swift form moved and his twin swords traced arcs of radiance, heads were severed and bodies were cleaved.
"Aaaaaah!"
"Die! Just die already!"
"Gwaaaaakh!"
A scene of carnage unfolded, as if hell itself had been transplanted into the mortal realm.
There was no "Righteous" or "Evil" here anymore. There were only those struggling desperately to survive.
On this day, at Nakbongpa, the great master of the Orthodox Faction, the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon, breathed his last.
To save his comrades who were trapped in the Unorthodox Faction's Heaven and Earth Net, he had charged in alone, broken the encirclement, and allowed his allies to escape.
Afterward, he held the canyon pass by himself, engaging in mutual destruction against three thousand elite masters of the Unorthodox Faction.
From the moment he entered the Jianghu, he had fought a hundred battles and won a hundred victories, creating a legend of invincibility. He was a titan of the Orthodox Faction, whispered to be the future Number One Under Heaven.
His end was a legendary death that would be etched forever into the history of the Martial World.
At least, in that world.
* * *
—You brat. How long are you going to live like a mindless beast? A man should know his duty and walk the Righteous Path.
'Always with the nagging…'
Still, thanks to that nagging, I—a "Little Demon" rotting away in the back alleys—managed to become a decent human being.
If it weren't for Master, I'd probably be posing as some Unorthodox big shot at best, sucking the lifeblood out of commoners.
—Doing good isn't about wanting something in return. You do it simply because it is right.
'The leader of a third-rate sect in the middle of nowhere sure talks a bigger game than the heads of the prestigious Orthodox sects. No wonder he never made it big.'
I really ran myself ragged trying to help that frustrating Master of mine move up in the world.
I made a few friends along the way.
Though I probably made a hundred times more enemies.
—It's fine. That was your achievement, not mine. I don't need it, so you take the credit.
'Master… Master… You absolute pushover…'
Why couldn't he just take what was given?
If I didn't look out for him, who was going to give him spiritual medicine?
He didn't even have enough money in his own pocket to buy a single root of ginseng because he was too busy helping the poor…
Seriously, why was he like that?
Normally, if someone had a disciple like me, they'd jump at the chance to use me to secure a high-ranking position in the Murim Alliance and live a life of luxury.
Even when he was ignored, he just laughed.
Even when he was insulted, he just laughed.
Well, I beat those bastards within an inch of their lives later, but still…
'There's a limit to being a good-natured fool, Master… Seriously, what are you going to do without me?'
Whenever I worried, Master would just smile and say:
—Why? Are you planning on dying before me? A man should go in the order he came. It wouldn't do for you to die before I do, would it?
Of course not.
My kind-hearted Master.
Without me, he's just a weak, talentless pushover.
How could I die before a man like that?
I had to live. I had to live to make sure Master lived in comfort, and to make our Twin Dragon Sect the greatest sect under heaven…
And also… well, anyway, I was going to do all sorts of good things for him.
'I have to repay him for making me a human being.'
Right. This was no time to be lying around.
I didn't know where I was, but this situation—dark, suffocating, and filled with strange noises—was not good.
I had to get out.
I had to get out, go back, show my Master some filial piety, make my weak junior disciples stronger, and fold those prestigious Orthodox bastards who treated our Twin Dragon Sect like third-rate trash in half.
I could do it.
I was the Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
'Hnnngh…!'
Jincheon strained with all his might to escape the dark, cramped space.
He gave his all to move toward the faint glimmer of light. And finally…
'I'm out!'
Jincheon shouted at the top of his lungs.
Well…
He tried to.
"Waaaaah! Waaaaah! Waaaaah!"
The results, however, didn't quite match his intent.
"## ### ###."
"#### ## #### ##."
"##…."
Noisy, unintelligible chatter surrounded him.
The loud cries of a baby were coming from his own mouth.
Jincheon realized then.
'Uh… this isn't right.'
The situation was quite serious.
* * *
Three years later.
The Atronia Kingdom, a small nation in the eastern part of the continent.
Within it lay the Schneider Barony, a tiny estate located on the furthest outskirts. It was a pioneer territory, bordered by barren land and the Great Forest, which teemed with monsters.
Most people considered it a remote backwater, unfit for human habitation.
However, the residents of this fief claimed their land was a wonderful place to live.
The reason for their contentment was the House of Baron Schneider.
Baron Schneider was a rarity among nobles—a pushover, or rather, a benevolent ruler. Even if the land was harsh and difficult, having a lord who was kind and virtuous was a massive advantage.
In a world where life could be hell even on fertile land if the lord was tyrannical, a noble as good as Baron Schneider was truly rare.
The only problem with the Schneider family had been the lack of an heir for a long time.
But that was resolved a few years ago when the Baroness gave birth to a son.
The Baroness was of a frail constitution and would likely struggle to give birth again, but fortunately, their first child was a boy.
With the future of the Schneider family secured, the people of the territory could rest easy.
And the child born amidst everyone's blessings was Patrick Schneider.
He was the toddler currently sitting in the manor's garden with an expression of utter emptiness, staring blankly at the sky.
"The Young Lord is doing it again."
"Is he going to be okay?"
The maids and servants of the barony watched Patrick with worried eyes.
To them, their Young Lord appeared a bit—no, to be blunt—extremely strange.
He spent most of his time sitting blankly like that, muttering incomprehensible things to himself, suddenly getting angry, and then just as suddenly looking sad…
"He's not… crazy, is he?"
"Shhh! Watch your mouth…"
"But no matter how you look at it, he's not normal, right?"
"Shut up! Do you want to lose your head?"
"..."
The servant who had spoken fell silent, but his expression clearly said, 'You think so too.'
However, no matter how kind and virtuous Baron Schneider was, he wouldn't tolerate a servant treating his only son like a madman.
But there was something they didn't know.
Despite their low voices and the distance between them, Patrick heard every word they said.
"I wish I were just crazy too, you people."
He let out another sigh.
"My life has certainly taken a turn."
The words coming from the boy's mouth were in the language of the Central Plains.
To the people around him, it sounded like nothing more than the incoherent babbling of a three-year-old with poor pronunciation.
The Radiant Dragon Hero, Jincheon.
His reincarnated form was the current Patrick Schneider.
Patrick suddenly let out a dry chuckle.
"If I'm a noble, does that make me part of the gentry? I've really moved up in the world. I was an orphan and a beggar in my past life."
In his previous life, Jincheon was an orphan who didn't even know his parents.
But in this new world, he was the only son of a noble family.
Even if this Baron Schneider was at the very bottom of the noble hierarchy, so what?
The estate might be the size of a postage stamp, but he had his own land, and the people brought him taxes. He could eat, sleep, and poop without lifting a finger.
"Life is too easy."
In his past life, Jincheon had to find his own food by this age. Begging was a given; he had been a street urchin, eyes constantly darting around to find something to steal or snatch.
That life had continued until he was over ten years old, when the Master of the Twin Dragon Sect took him in.
Compared to those days, his current life was absurdly comfortable.
It was so comfortable, and yet…
"Haaaaah…"
A deep sigh, heavy enough to sink the ground, escaped Patrick's lips. His face was clouded with worry.
'Dammit, I can't believe I died there.'
To save his clumsy allies trapped in the net, he had broken through the encirclement alone and then guarded the rear to ensure their retreat. As a result, he had died at Nakbongpa after holding off three thousand elite Unorthodox masters by himself.
It was a glorious death that would go down in the history of the Martial World.
The descendants of the Jianghu would likely praise the chivalry and martial arts of the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon for generations to come. But…
"What's the point if I'm dead? Seriously, I'm going crazy. I can see exactly what's going to happen to my pushover Master now that I'm gone."
Patrick clutched his head and lamented.
His Master, the leader of a third-rate sect in a rural backwater, was an object of jealousy for the high-ranking officials of the Murim Alliance.
A talentless man who just happened to get lucky and strike it rich by taking in a genius disciple.
That was what the so-called "venerable masters" of the Orthodox Faction whispered behind his back.
Of course, they never dared to say it to his face. If they had…
[Is this bastard out of his mind?!]
Who would dare, knowing there was a mad dog ready to foam at the mouth and pounce?
Jincheon's title was the Radiant Dragon Hero, but he was more commonly known as the "Mad Dragon." And that nickname came from the Orthodox Faction, not the Unorthodox one.
But now that Jincheon was gone, what would happen to the Twin Dragon Sect?
What about his kind-hearted Master?
What about the Orthodox Faction?
'Ah, forget the last one. Those bastards deserve to suffer a bit. Anyway…'
Patrick let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Ugh… I'm losing it, seriously."
Then, Patrick suddenly looked up at the sky and began to scream.
"Hey! If you were going to reincarnate me, you could've at least kept me in the same world! Why the hell did you dump me in this weird world I don't even know? Is the Celestial Emperor or Buddha slacking off? These bastards have no discipline!"
It was the moment the first human on the Pangemonia Continent was born to curse the Celestial Emperor and Buddha.
Watching this, the nearby servants and maids whispered among themselves, more convinced than ever that their Young Lord was definitely insane.
It was just another peaceful day in the House of Baron Schneider.