On that day, which was both the last and the first, snow began to fall in the late afternoon.
Watching the soft, feather-like snowflakes drift down, Baekpyo, who was with me, exclaimed excitedly, "Alliance Leader! It's the first snow of the year!"
Baekpyo was the chief guard of the Martial Alliance Headquarters, one of the two people I trusted most. Even in his forties, the word "pure" seemed to suit him perfectly.
"They say seeing the moment the first snow falls brings good luck for the year," he said, trying to sound casual, but his words carried a deep longing to survive another year unharmed. Who would have guessed that Baekpyo, the Martial Alliance's top bodyguard who had once repelled the combined assault of the Black Heaven Palace's Seven Fiends, possessed such a sentimental side?
"Ah, the first snow of the year!"
I forced myself to sound impressed as I gazed out the window, but honestly, I felt nothing.
The words "first snow" no longer made my heart race.
I was seventy this year.
The thrill of "firsts" had long fossilized, powerless to stir my hardened emotions.
When I see snow... all I can think of are those I killed in the snowfields, their blood staining the pristine white.
Whoosh...
The swirling snowflakes grew thicker, the blizzard intensifying.
The Observatory Director, who had confidently predicted clear skies for today, would likely avoid me for the next few days. He'd sworn the first snow wouldn't fall until next month.
"That little rascal Myung-yi must be jumping for joy right now."
Myung-yi is Baekpyo's son.
"He's three this year, right?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Baek Pyo's face.
"He's six this year."
I was genuinely startled.
My shock wasn't because I'd forgotten the age of his youngest child, born later in life after his marriage.
It was because I suddenly remembered having this exact conversation just a few days prior. Back then, I'd asked if the boy was three years old as well.
I'm not an old man with dementia—how could I make such a mistake?
"He's grown up so quickly. My apologies," I said.
Instead of resentment, Baek Pyo's face was filled with concern for me.
"It's alright. They say you realize how time flies when you watch other people's children grow up, don't they?"
Baek Pyo had said almost the exact same thing that day. I remember it clearly now.
What's been going on with me lately?
Lately, I've been forgetting things from the past with increasing frequency. The symptoms have worsened recently, and my energy isn't what it used to be. I often feel like my body is floating, as if I have a severe cold.
Suspecting poisoning, I channeled my vital energy to thoroughly examine my internal systems, but found nothing amiss.
Wondering if I might have contracted an unknown illness, I considered consulting a divine physician for a diagnosis, but ultimately decided to wait and observe further.
If rumors spread that the Martial Alliance Leader's health was failing, both the alliance and the entire martial world would be thrown into turmoil.
"I'll take my leave now."
"Very well."
Regardless of my own situation, I felt deeply sorry for Baek Pyo. He's always been the one guarding and protecting me, yet I keep making these repeated mistakes.
I should buy the child some clothes right away. But... was it a girl or a boy?
Damn. I can't remember.
Seething with frustration, I turned my gaze out the window. The intensifying snowstorm was blanketing the world in white, just like my fading memories.
Is this... my time to die?
Me? The greatest warrior under heaven? Me, who has held this supreme position for over forty years?
In the afternoon, Chief Military Advisor Ge Siliang entered the Alliance Leader's Hall to deliver his operational report.
As usual, he reported on various matters within the alliance, but his words barely registered. I paid him no heed, my eyes fixed on the blizzard raging outside.
Sensing my low spirits, Ge Siliang concluded his report more quickly than usual.
"...The rest is in the written report."
"Good work."
"Then I'll take my leave."
I called out to him as he turned to leave.
"Military Advisor Gal."
"Yes, Alliance Leader?"
"What kind of person do you think I am?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said. In your opinion, what kind of person am I? Give me your definition."
I turned to face Gal Saryang. I was curious about the evaluation of the man who had helped me achieve the great undertaking of unifying the Central Plains.
"What significance could my words possibly hold?" Gal Saryang replied, glancing around the room. "You are the greatest figure in the martial world."
The four walls of the Alliance Leader's Hall were inscribed with records of my past life.
The fifteen most pivotal battles of my life. My past footsteps, now etched into the annals of the martial world's history.
At the age of twenty-nine, I had ascended to become the unrivaled supreme master of the realm.
That year, the Sword Emperor, the Blade Emperor, and the Fist King all knelt before me in succession.
Martial God, Cheon Hajin.
This was the name I earned at the tail end of my twenties.
Seven years later, at the age of thirty-six, I ascended to the position of Martial Alliance Leader. It was said that I was the first person in the history of the Martial Alliance to become its leader in their thirties.
The pride that came with being the first. Drunk on that sense of accomplishment, I ruled as Martial Alliance Leader for the next thirty-four years.
My life was fierce and glorious.
After becoming the leader, I spent long years on the battlefield, crushing the heretical sects.
In the process, I narrowly escaped death countless times.
But in the end, I fulfilled the Martial Alliance's long-cherished dream.
I had shattered the Black Dao Thirteen Alliance, the assembly of heretical sects, and overthrown the Blood Heaven Divine Sect, the successor to the Demonic Sect.
Even after securing peace for the martial world, my life remained hectic.
Enemies weren't confined to the outside; as soon as external threats vanished, internal ones arose.
Those who coveted absolute power poisoned my food and dispatched assassins under the cover of night.
But I survived, cutting down every rebel who dared to plot against me.
I yearned to remain an elegant and dignified absolute ruler, but reality defied my wishes. If I didn't kill, I would be killed.
The martial world folk called me the Iron-Blooded Alliance Leader. Since I showed no mercy to betrayers, they also called me the Punishing Alliance Leader.
No one dared to breathe deeply in my presence.
"Alliance Leader, you are the absolute ruler of this martial world, the embodiment of chivalry and martial prowess. Indeed, you are the very essence of the martial world itself."
Yes, this is me. So why am I feeling so down today?
Gal Saryang added, a hint of concern in his voice, "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"
As someone who had observed me closely for years, he had noticed my unusual demeanor.
"I'm fine," I replied.
"Then please rest."
Gal Saryang withdrew from the main hall.
Left alone, I sank deeper into the grand master's chair.
The very essence of the martial world... Yes, having been born a martial artist and hearing such words, what more could I possibly desire...?
Hic!
As I sat down on the Grand Master's throne, I suddenly found myself gasping for air. A sense of helplessness washed over me, the realization that I had lost control over my own body. A languor, as if all my strength had evaporated, enveloped me completely.
I'll just take a nap and think about it later...
I had no way of knowing...
...that this was the final moment of my life.
I couldn't believe that the end for the world's greatest martial artist would come so suddenly, so meaninglessly, so fleetingly. I thought a few fallen petals couldn't possibly mean the flower was withering. I had always imagined my final moments would be spent fighting madly, surrounded by traitors, before meeting a glorious death.
But as if to declare, "Your life ends here," the world plunged into pitch-black darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I saw an unfamiliar ceiling.
Where am I?
Then, a strong medicinal scent pierced my nostrils.
The infirmary?
Did I collapse? ItS seems so.
I'll probably get an earful from Instructor Galgun for not taking care of my body properly.
As I tried to sit up, a strange, unfamiliar sensation washed over me.
What's this?
Instinctively, I activated my unique martial art, the Heavenly Martial Heart Protection Art (天武護心訣).
My dantian, normally brimming with inner energy, should have sent protective power coursing through my entire body. But my body didn't react at all.
The dantian, which should have been overflowing with four sixty-year cycles' worth of inner energy, was completely empty. Well, not exactly empty—there was a faint trace of something barely worthy of being called inner energy.
What in the world is going on here?
Collapsing from illness is one thing. But the complete absence of inner energy? That's utterly impossible.
Dispersing Power Poison? That's impossible.
Especially since I had mastered the Heavenly Martial Heart Protection Technique, the world's supreme internal cultivation method that protected my body under any circumstances. A mere Dispersing Power Poison couldn't possibly work on me.
This unfamiliar sensation—my internal energy completely drained and my cultivation method rendered useless—felt even more repulsive than flesh and bone being severed by metal.
I slowly sat up. Even the act of moving my body felt utterly alien.
Where am I?
This wasn't the Martial Alliance's medical ward. It was a cramped room, less than a tenth the size of the Alliance Leader's personal ward.
Just then, a low voice murmured from the side:
"You're awake."
I turned my head toward the sound and saw a middle-aged man and woman standing side by side.
The woman approached and took my hand.
"Are you alright?"
Of course I wasn't alright. I had no idea what was going on.
"Who are you?"
My voice sounded unfamiliar, even to my own ears.
The woman smiled and said, "You're looking right at me and asking who I am?"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
The corners of her lips curled upward even more. The middle-aged man standing behind her quickly interjected, "Calm yourself, madam."
But before he could finish speaking, the woman mercilessly struck the back of my head.
Crack!
"You should be begging for forgiveness, and instead you ask, 'Who are you?' Fine, I'll tell you. This poor wretch who stayed up all night worrying about you is none other than... your mother! You unfilial bastard! Is that how you speak to your own mother?!"
Whoosh!
The woman's fist narrowly missed my face again.
If the middle-aged man hadn't rushed forward and pulled her back, that punch would have landed squarely on my face.
"Hold back! She must be disoriented from fainting and waking up!"
"Just die already, you idiot, moron, halfwit!"
Normally, in this situation, I would have immediately snapped, "Have you ever seen such insolence?" But I was still dazed.
Had I ever been struck on the back of the head before?
No, setting aside everything else, what exactly was going on here? It was such an absurd situation that I didn't even have the composure to be offended.
Was this a dream?
But it felt too vivid to be a dream. My head still throbbed from the blow.
Then, almost absentmindedly, I turned my head to the side. When I caught sight of the small bronze mirror hanging on the wall, I nearly stopped breathing.
Reflected in the mirror was a young man I'd never seen before, staring back with a dazed expression.
Is that me?
Ah, so it is a dream after all!
A wave of relief washed over me, but it was immediately followed by a surge of confusion.
How can I have such a vivid nightmare?
The next moment, dizziness struck me again, and I collapsed. The woman's scolding voice, which had been ringing in my ears, gradually faded away.
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