Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God – Ch. 1

Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God

Chapter 1

Little Heavenly Demon Yeon Woon-hwi

Hair that falls to the waist like a white silk carpet.

Drowsy and decadent eyes.

A young man whose beauty was such that, if he dressed as a woman, one might believe him to be a beautiful girl.

Yet, among those living in the Tian Shan mountains, not a single person dared to utter such words carelessly to him.

-Great Sorcerer of Dark Arts.

-King of the Wandering Lost Souls.

-Junior Lord of the Heavenly Demon Cult.

And so on.

The titles and epithets that referred to him were as countless as the stars in the sky.

Little Heavenly Demon Yeon Woon-hwi.

The young master of the Heavenly Demon Cult, said to be the strongest single force in the martial world.

Naturally, regardless of affiliation, anyone of the martial world had to be cautious even of his gaze.

But the greatest reason he was feared was something else entirely.

"Is this all you can do, Martial Uncle? Wouldn’t your nephew here be far too disappointed like this?"

Look at that venom.

Even after drinking great amounts of Hakjeonghong, a deadly poison said to melt an ox with just a handful, he did not collapse—rather, ghostly fire (dokkaebi flame) streamed endlessly from the corners of his eyes.

And yet, the cold, mocking smile he wore was enough to chill the hearts of all who saw it.

Not to mention the wine cups scattered before him and the dozen elite assassins lying on the ground with holes pierced through their foreheads.

Clearly, the fact that Yeon Woon-hwi could accomplish such things even in poor physical condition explained exactly what kind of person he was.

A venomous one.

Though he could not even learn martial arts due to his constitution, he seized control of the Cult solely through his supernatural abilities, and in the end, became the Junior Lord.

The evaluation of him was very simple.

—If he smiles, don’t even look back—just run. That only means you’re utterly screwed.

—Get into his eyes. Then he will become an umbrella that protects you for life. That is… if you can manage it.

‘It’s always been like that. I don’t know if it’s because he was born with a vile temperament, or because his inconvenient body twisted his nature so.’

Tsk!

Vice Leader Cheon Hwa-jin, the one who had schemed for this situation, found none of this to his liking.

When was it again? There had been a time when Yeon Woon-hwi went on an inspection tour to the Central Plains.

But somehow, word spread, and it seemed that some young Taoist from the Wudang Sect kept tailing him, pestering him endlessly.

In response, Yeon Woon-hwi plucked out all the youngster’s hair, then tossed him into Shaolin Temple with the remark, “Go get along well with your fellow baldies.” The martial alliance was thrown into an uproar.

How much effort it had taken to clean up afterward, when the righteous sects raged as if demanding to start a war!

The problem was, this was just a very small example.

Besides this, there was an endless list of incidents and accidents caused by Yeon Woon-hwi.

It was always the same pattern.

Yeon Woon-hwi made the mess, and Cheon Hwa-jin cleaned it up.

The real issue was that with Yeon Woon-hwi’s dazzling and unrestrained behavior, the support of the younger cult members grew higher by the day.

Cheon Hwa-jin could no longer overlook the Heavenly Demon Cult being ruined by the whims of one person.

"Indeed. I had hoped to give my disciple his first true lesson, but it didn’t work out. I am ashamed."

"If only my body weren’t so heavy, I would have gladly drilled the same refreshing hole into your head as I did with theirs. Truly a pity."

"It seems that too will not come to pass as you wished. I can only say it is regrettable."

Cheon Hwa-jin replied leisurely, but inwardly he ground his teeth furiously.

He could no longer allow some orphan brat to continue spouting off and doing as he pleased.

The groundwork was already complete anyway.

Yeon Woon-hwi’s escort had long since been eliminated.

The persuasion of the elders, who did not wish to face a cult master unable to even learn the cult’s secret arts, was also finished.

Approval had even come down from “above” that it was fine to proceed.

Which meant, now only the removal remained.

Splash! Splash!

Cheon Hwa-jin began walking across the floor, now covered entirely with corpses and blood.

No matter how displeased he was, was there not still the bond between master and disciple?

For now, Yeon Woon-hwi was still the proud young master of the Heavenly Demon Cult.

So at the very least, he had enough mercy left to let the ending be by his own hand.

* * *

Master.

Was this meager result the price of trust you preached into my ears until they were calloused?

You truly are naïve.

Look at this.

In the end, just as I said, that damned man has struck us on the back of the head like this, has he not?

If I could meet my master, still deep in slumber within the Heavenly Demon Palace, that is what I would want to tell him.

Divine Sword Heavenly Demon.

Had he not fallen into qi deviation while researching a grand method to heal his foolish disciple’s broken dantian, the day would never have come when that wretch could puff out his chest with power.

I was born with a ruined dantian from the start, a body utterly incapable of ever learning martial arts.

So, I had never even practiced the most common basic breathing techniques.

Yet, whether it was a blessing in misfortune, or misfortune piled upon misfortune, I possessed an unusual talent different from others.

— The Eyes of the Dead.

I could see the dead.

No, not only the dead.

What people often call strange powers and uncanny beings… I could converse with entities existing on the hidden side of the world, and at times, even command them.

It was my master who discovered that in me.

“You are not something bizarre. You are something special.”

That day, I still cannot forget.

The day when, beaten by the village children for seeing illusions and telling lies, abandoned beneath a culvert, my master reached out his hand to me.

“Ever since the ‘Tower’ appeared beyond the heavens, there have occasionally been children born like you—whose upper dantian develops to an extreme degree, or who possess unique spiritual roots. So your talent is not a mistake. Rather, it is a blessing.”

Special.

Blessing.

For me, who always lived with nothing but the regret of ‘Why am I even alive?’ those were magical words that changed the way I looked at the world.

‘And children like that, being special, always went on to accomplish special things. You will as well.’

‘Really…?’

‘Yes. So, will you follow me? Let this old man lend a hand in making you more special than anyone else in this world.’

From then on, under my master’s guidance, I began learning various arts that could make use of my Eyes of the Dead.

Not only yin-yang techniques, divination, and defensive arts, but also the secret methods of heterodox sorcery, the astrology and demonology of the distant western regions, and even the ancient rites of the Zoroastrian sect that pursued immortality.

More persistently than anyone. More ruthlessly than anyone.

Though I could not wield a sword with my own hands like my master, I was willing to do anything if it meant I could aid his reign.

Despite countless prejudices and pointing fingers, I endured and endured again, holding fast only to the single desire of becoming like him.

Thus, I outmaneuvered the heirs of the factions that supported the Heavenly Demon Cult—the Nine Great Demon Sects and the Seventy-Two Evil Branches —and claimed this seat for myself…

But it seemed that even such great achievements of mine would come to an end today.

“Before I go, let me ask you just one thing, Martial Uncle.”

The fellow slowly approaching wore a broad smile at the corner of his lips. The smile of a victor, no doubt.

A thought welled up inside me—how I wanted to smash that face to pieces.

“What is it?”

“Who is the one pulling the strings behind you, Martial Uncle? There’s no way a man with a liver smaller than a bean sprout like you could have led such a grand scheme. There must be a rat who set the stage for you, isn’t that so?”

Cheon Hwa-jin’s face twisted most unpleasantly.

“What nonsense are you spouting? Dragging you down from the throne is the resolution of myself and the elders—”

“Cut the bullshit. You’re nowhere near capable enough for that.”

“You bastard!!”

On that ever more twisted face of his, only two emotions were visible.

Frustration.

And inferiority.

That was the kind of man he had always been.

Back when Master was still well, this fool never even dared meet his eyes, always scurrying about with his head bowed.

“Who is it? The Lord of Black Bone Ghost Valley? The Lord of Thunder Vein Blood Sect? Or perhaps the Lord of the House of Demonic Horses? If not, then… is there some third party I don’t know of?”

“……!”

“So, it is a third party. There’s a hidden hand behind this. Don’t tell me they’re the ones who left Master in that state?”

“Shut up!!”

Kwaaa—

Cheon Hwa-jin, seemingly deciding he could no longer hold back, reached out with his Black Jade Hand, aiming to snap my neck.

And with that, I was certain.

That both Master and I had ended up like this because someone was pulling the strings from the shadows.

And that their true purpose was to swallow the Heavenly Demon Cult whole.

Of course, needless to say, I had no intention of letting myself be taken down so easily.

“Even if you kill me now, Martial Uncle, there is one fact you must never forget.”

Crack!

Cheon Hwa-jin’s rough grip twisted my neck.

The hideous sound of bones breaking, the searing agony that followed.

And yet, I laughed.

For an instant, Cheon Hwa-jin’s face was stricken with fear.

To him, the sight of me speaking even with my neck twisted must have seemed grotesque.

Then, belatedly realizing what I was aiming for, his face turned pale.

“You, don’t tell me—”

Too late, bastard.

“The Sacred Relic, the Demon Dragon Sword, is the greatest demonic artifact, said to contain a relic left behind by the First Heavenly Demon.”

I placed my hand upon the Demon Dragon Sword lying beneath my knee.

It was the Cult Master’s sacred relic, which Master had always told me to keep at my side, never knowing when it might be needed.

It held so many memories as well.

…Never had I thought I would be the one to shatter it with my own hands.

The moment all the power from my upper dantian surged into it, the Demon Dragon Sword, along with its scabbard, shattered like glass.

Crash!

Amidst the countless fragments of shattered black steel, I could see reflected the pale faces of not only Cheon Hwa-jin, but also Ma Yeong-dan and the elders standing behind him.

Even my own face, grinning like a demon.

“So then—”

Spirit-Bursting Hellfire Rite.

A forbidden art that burns the soul and drags the flames of hell into the mortal world.

And with the greatest demonic artifact of the Cult as its sacrifice, its power would be tremendous indeed.

At the very least, it should be enough to blow away an entire peak like Mount Soecheon, where the Junior Lord’s Hall resided.

“Die, all of you.”

—!

In that instant, the world turned white.

* * *

My consciousness began to fade away.

•

•

Are they all dead?

Most likely, they are.

If anyone managed to survive such an explosion, then perhaps I should acknowledge their strength instead.

But… that doesn’t mean I can close my eyes in peace.

My master still lies within the Heavenly Demon Palace, and I have yet to uncover who the hidden hand truly is.

So long as their claws might reach out again at any time, it is difficult to rest easy.

Which means I must find a way.

A way to live again.

But with my body utterly obliterated in the blast, there was no way for me to awaken once more as Yeon Woon-hwi.

Then only one method remained.

—What if I were to awaken in a body not my own?

Among the great secret arts of the ancient Zoroastrian Sect, there exists one called Primordial Spirit Wheel Tribulation.

It was a grand method devised by the old sect masters, who, facing death from age or grave injuries, sought to exchange their failing bodies for fresh ones.

But more often than not, it ended in failure, and even when it succeeded, the soul and body would ultimately reject one another, leading to death in the end. Thus it came to be forbidden.

Yet for me, there was no reason to avoid it.

If I failed, I would die anyway. But if I succeeded… I could seize a new chance.

A chance to save my master, and to uncover and destroy the hidden hand.

And as it happened, the remnants of demonic energy left behind from the shattered Demon Dragon Sword still lingered nearby.

Harnessing that power… I slowly reached out into the void—or perhaps, toward wherever fate might take me.

In that moment, it was as though a single ray of salvation descended from the blackened sky and touched the tip of my fingers.

As I lost consciousness, I thought that the sight resembled my own name, Un-hwi —“Light within the Clouds.”

It was the very name I had first received on the day I met my master, back when I was a nameless child.

Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God

Prologue

—The Shell-Shedders.

Those who cast off the limits of humanity and sought to climb the Tower that stood above the heavens—beings called Absolutes and Half-Immortals.

That is what people named them.

Chronicles of the Reincarnated Demon God