CHAPTER: Chapter 1
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Chapter 1.
Gonryun.
A Taoist sword sect that had raised its mountain gates atop the eternal snows of Cheonghae and honed its blades with the bitter wind as its companion.
The sect that stood closest to the Demonic Cult, and the first to draw the sword whenever those fiends ran rampant.
A sect that had been driven to the very brink of annihilation time and again, yet had never once abandoned its ground.
Men who cultivated the Dao amidst the chill snowstorm, carrying purity and righteousness within a single sword.
And so—there was no coward in Gonryun, no one lacking in spirit, and no one who would swallow humiliation and bow his head.
The martial artists of Gonryun had always taken pride in that truth.
Not only the orthodox Murim, but even the unorthodox factions could not deny Gonryun’s upright integrity.
…And yet.
‘What use was any of that?’
A bitter smile touched the lips of Uncheon, the man known as Gonryun’s First Sword and the Cloud Dragon.
After receiving intelligence that the Demonic Cult would soon rise in force, Uncheon had rushed to the Murim Alliance with his disciples.
But the Murim Alliance… had done nothing.
“I understand Gonryun’s request, but for the Murim Alliance to move, we require firmer proof….”
“And even if we were to send aid, we would still need to decide which sects would contribute troops, and in what number….”
Ten whole days.
Under the name of deliberation, they had brushed aside Uncheon’s warning.
In that time, precious hours had slipped away without mercy.
And then an urgent message reached him.
[The Demonic Cult’s main force has launched a sudden assault on Mount Gonryun. Return at once.]
Biting down on his lip, Uncheon left one final plea to his junior brother.
“If they turn their backs on Gonryun to the very end… then do not rely on those hypocrites any longer. Plan for what comes after. You… must become Gonryun’s hope.”
After that, he raced here without resting for even a moment for seven days and nights.
And at last, what spread before his eyes was not the beloved sight of Gonryun.
It was a living hell.
Burning halls.
Sword marks that had carved a history of blood.
And… the cold corpses of his senior and junior brothers.
Only the traces of a desperate resistance remained to greet him.
“…Junior Brother!”
The junior brother who had once begged for guidance with clumsy swordsmanship.
[Senior Brother! Just what do I have to do to make my sword path that swift?]
His severed head lay at Uncheon’s feet, eyes bulging wide.
“…Senior Brother!”
The senior brother who had offered him wine with a face full of mischief now lay dead with only the upper half of his body remaining.
[Uncheon! The moonlight is fine tonight. Stop swinging your sword all day and come share a drink with me.]
“――!”
What burst from Uncheon’s throat was no human sound.
It was the scream of a dragon howling at the heavens.
SHING—.
As if resonating with its master’s grief, the sword slid free with a cold, mournful cry.
“If any disciple of Gonryun still lives, answer me! I, Uncheon, Gonryun’s First Sword, have returned!”
But the only ones who answered his cry were the cultists of the Demonic Cult.
All across Mount Gonryun, black swarms writhed like cockroaches.
“Good… come, then. You Demonic Cult bastards!”
From Uncheon’s hand, Gonryun’s sword forms unfurled into a requiem as red as blood.
The Taecheong Sword, which should have been clear and pure, danced in a maddened whirl of slaughter.
His rage clouded his vision, but the tip of his sword did not waver.
With the heart of a man scourging himself, Uncheon forced his body beyond its limits.
‘This sword dance is judgment…!’
Sword energy in the shape of a dragon—the Great Void Dragon-Slaying Sword—roared forth with savage fury.
SLASH—! SPRAY—!
Where the flash swept past, silence fell, and a breath later crimson fountains burst into the air.
Each time the sword flashed, several heads rose into the air at once.
Not one of them could properly withstand even a single stroke.
One sword, one kill.
No—every sword stroke was certain death.
Blood spouted in every direction.
And yet no matter how many he killed, the black tide did not end.
Cut down one, and two rushed in.
Cut down two, and four surrounded him.
That was the army of the Demonic Cult.
But now, that black wave was being split into red halves before a single swordsman.
“Th-this is impossible! That is a Taoist?”
“Th-that is him! Gonryun’s First Sword…!”
“E-even a branch leader, with a single stroke?”
The cultists instinctively began edging backward.
“Do not retreat! There is only one of him!”
To make matters worse, Uncheon had raced more than a thousand li a day from the Murim Alliance in Nakyang to Mount Gonryun in Cheonghae.
The true qi within his dantian, once seemingly bottomless, had begun to run dry, and even the internal force he could pour into his sword was withering away.
“Disgusting vermin… just how many of you came?”
One by one, sword wounds multiplied across Uncheon’s body, and blood seeped out.
“Hah… hah……”
At last, when his dantian had been completely emptied, Uncheon staggered his way into Gonryun’s Taecheong Hall.
There, he found the mangled corpse of his senior brother, the sect leader.
Even in his final moment, the sect leader had clutched tightly in his hand an old jade token, Gonryun’s sacred relic.
[Uncheon, no. You must endure! For Gonryun’s sake!]
The face that had admonished him until the very end rose in his mind.
But Uncheon shook his head.
“Senior Brother…! Enduring and waiting was never the answer. We should never have trusted the Murim Alliance… not when it had stagnated long enough to rot!”
After closing the sect leader’s staring eyes, Uncheon tucked the jade token into his robe.
“…I will follow soon. After I cut down as many of those Demonic Cult bastards as I can.”
RIP—.
He tore his robe and bound the sword tightly to his hand so it could not slip free, then stepped out of Taecheong Hall.
By then, black ranks of the Demonic Cult were already surging around the hall like a tidal wave.
‘There is no retreat….’
Grasping at his fading consciousness, Uncheon cut his way through the cultists and headed for Cheonjon Peak, the highest summit of Gonryun.
The sacred ground where the past sect leaders of Gonryun had entered their final meditation.
Because, in the place where all those who had fallen now slept, he wished to take one last look at Gonryun.
‘So this is as far as I go….’
After exhausting even the last of his true origin qi, his knees finally buckled.
And in that moment, a line of clear light flowed out from the jade token against his chest.
At the same time, an unfamiliar voice pierced through his fading consciousness.
[…Thousands of years. And Gonryun’s history comes to such a futile end.]
In an instant, an old man in a blue Taoist robe appeared before him like mist.
At the final moment, had he begun to see illusions?
[This is no illusion. Disciple of Gonryun who bears the sacred relic… I am an Immortal who has watched over the dying Gonryun. Your life, too, is at its end….]
Deep sorrow and helplessness weighed in the Immortal’s voice.
“This junior… offers his respects… to a senior of Gonryun……”
[There is no need for you to force the words out. I can read your thoughts. To think you came this far in such a body… commendable.]
At those words, a faint spark of hope flared within Uncheon’s dying heart.
‘Could it be…? Immortal, do you have some way… to prevent Gonryun’s destruction…?’
But the Immortal only shook his head with firm finality.
[Gonryun’s fate has already tilted toward ruin. There is no way to prevent its annihilation….]
A hopeless declaration.
But the Immortal was not finished.
[However, there is one path. If you do not fear being stained by the Demonic Path…!]
‘For Gonryun’s sake, I will do anything! What is this path?’
[So long as the Demonic Cult coils itself around Cheonsan, Gonryun’s destruction cannot be prevented. Therefore you must enter the very heart of the Demonic Cult and bring it down from within.]
‘…With my life already hanging by a thread, how am I supposed to infiltrate the Demonic Cult and destroy them?’
[That… I shall handle myself… But what you must do is not mere infiltration… The law the Demonic Cult reveres—the strong are exalted! Follow that law, and climb to the highest seat of the Demonic Cult.]
‘…Are you telling me, a disciple of Gonryun, to become the Heavenly Demon?’
[Exactly so. Become the Heavenly Demon and shatter the Demonic Cult from the inside!]
‘Become the Heavenly Demon and destroy the Demonic Cult from within?’
What a glorious revenge it was, even to imagine it.
The only thing that weighed on his mind was that he, a Taoist of Gonryun, would have to walk the path of demonic arts.
But in his head, it was as if his master’s roar rang out.
[Gonryun Never Forgets Vengeance!]
[Gonryun is the greatest sword sect under heaven.]
[And the swords of Gonryun never forget their grudges.]
That had been his master’s teaching.
‘My senior and junior brothers must have believed, without the slightest doubt, that the Murim Alliance’s rescue force would come. But the Murim Alliance never even marched….’
To forget the senior and junior brothers who had perished amid the Demonic Cult’s invasion and the Murim Alliance’s abandonment—surely that would be the true betrayal.
‘How could I forget that grudge even in death…?’
Having made his decision, Uncheon nodded.
‘Then I will do it.’
[Good. There is no time now. Fulfill your will…!]
Though his consciousness dimmed, a strange smile touched Uncheon’s lips.
The Immortal’s figure dissolved into a shower of light and poured into Uncheon.
At the same time, his consciousness was pulled down into a darkness with no end.
***
“Tsk, the ones brought in this time are pathetically weak. To think one would stop breathing just from swallowing gu poison.”
From beyond his blurred consciousness, the indifferent voices of men drifted into his ears.
At the same time, a suffocating agony crashed over him.
“Cough… Cough!”
Uncheon opened his eyes in an unfamiliar place.
“Hm… This one definitely stopped breathing a moment ago.”
“Somehow, he started breathing again. Throw him into the infirmary for now.”
No sooner had the words ended than someone hoisted him up and slung him over a shoulder.
When Uncheon forced his eyes half open, what entered his vision was a body draped in filthy rags and worn down to little more than skin and bones.
‘…What happened here?’
It was not the body of Uncheon, Gonryun’s First Sword.
In that instant, a splitting headache struck, and unfamiliar memories flooded into his head.
They were the memories of an orphan who had wandered the streets without even a name.
‘Wh-what kind of monstrous trick is this now?’
Struggling desperately to steady his blurred vision, he looked around over the shoulder of the man carrying him.
A damp cavern, grotesque murals, and… far off in the distance, a massive red banner fluttering faintly.
The grotesque emblem embroidered upon that banner.
‘That is…!’
It was the very symbol he had seen to the point of nausea on the robes of the Demonic Cultists he had cut down until his dying moment.
The symbol of the Heavenly Demon.
In an instant, his mind froze solid.
‘Do not tell me… it truly happened just as the Immortal said?’
The Immortal had said it would not be mere infiltration, but this went far beyond anything he had expected.
Because Uncheon had been reborn in the very heart of the Demonic Cult.
A hollow laugh escaped him before he knew it.
‘…So I was thrown into a den of devils from the very start.’
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