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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: Nameless
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"No way. No, that can't be!"
He shot up from his seat.
He wanted to believe it was a lie.
But the vivid afterimage lingering before his eyes felt as real as if he had practiced that martial art every single day until just yesterday.
'Maybe I can do it... No, I can do it.'
He picked up a slender stalk of rice straw from the ground.
He stared at it intently for a long while.
If what was floating in his mind was real.
If this was truly happening.
"Let's do it."
He assumed the stance.
It came so naturally, as if he had done it thousands of times before.
His feet dragged their toes just like Dang Sowi had done moments ago, settling into the proper stance.
His weight shifted fluidly from his back foot to his front.
He spun the dagger once, gripping it in the center as if a serpent's mouth were coiling around it, then hurled it straight ahead—!
-Claaang!!!
"...Ha, haha."
It was a stalk of rice straw so thin it couldn't even snap a single dandelion.
Yet it stood rigid, embedded deep into the barn wall.
-Fsssh
A faint pink smoke, unique to plum blossoms, flickered at the tip of the straw before scattering into the air.
No doubt about it.
This dispersing plum blossom haze.
It was a signature technique of the Huashan Sect.
Of course, with barely any internal energy infused, its power was less than a tenth of what Dang Sowi had demonstrated.
But there was no question—this was the Huashan Sect's technique from the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, the Plum Blossom Spinning Dagger.
"Heh, heh... heuk."
Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes.
He held back the urge to wail.
He bit his lip until it bled, clamping a hand over his mouth.
He buried his head into his chest, muffling himself.
"Heuk, heuk... huk."
What was happening to him?
All the pent-up sorrow from years of being denied knowledge poured out like a waterfall.
He had been chased out of markets dozens of times after rummaging through moldy books in hopes of finding even a third-rate sword manual leaking from some stall.
The secret manual he barely scraped together by emptying half a year's wages turned out to be a convincing fake after the first couple of pages.
He had lived a life thirsting for knowledge.
-Splash
In one corner of the barn, stagnant water pooled, reflecting the blue moonlight.
His face stared back at him from its surface.
In the corner of his black pupil, a red glow that hadn't fully faded smoldered like a heated sword cooling, trailing faint smoke as it returned to black.
'What happened to my body?'
Ever since that red-masked assassin had nearly killed him.
[How unjust... We'll devour it all.]
The ghostly voice echoed relentlessly in his mind.
It was the same voice that had urged him to reach out.
[No matter what... someday... no matter the cost.]
At first, the voice wasn't even proper language—just a resentful spirit mumbling nonsensical phrases.
But as time passed, the once-fuzzy murmurs grew clearer and more distinct.
"Maybe."
Talking to it might actually work.
"Was that you, telling me to reach for the orb back then?"
[Orb...? You mean the jewel.]
Surprisingly, the voice answered his question.
It was flat, devoid of highs or lows, utterly emotionless.
Unlike the initial spectral mutterings, it now spoke like a fully formed personality.
"Yeah. The jewel."
He recalled clamping his teeth around the black orb after his arms were severed.
Had he bitten too hard? The jewel had shattered inside his mouth.
[I was sealed in the jewel alongside the soul of the Demonic Cult's first leader. The jewel shattered, muddling all my memories... but yes, probably.]
"...What?"
He wondered if he'd misheard.
"The Demonic Cult's first leader?"
[The first leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, known in the martial world as the Heavenly Demon.]
He blinked.
What nonsense was this?
"What the hell are you babbling about? The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult? You mean the Demonic Cult?"
[Indeed.]
He stammered in confusion.
"Make some sense. That golden dragon clutching the orb is a Moyong Family treasure. Mother handed it to me. Logically, there's no way a Moyong Family treasure would hold a Demonic Cult jewel."
[I know nothing of what transpired in the outside world while I slumbered. But one thing is certain: regardless of what anyone says, my presence here proves that orb was the Heavenly Demon Jewel.]
"Ha, this is insane."
What could he even say?
He swallowed dryly.
"So, you're saying you're sealed with the Heavenly Demon—what exactly are you? You're not claiming to be the Heavenly Demon yourself, are you?"
[I...]
The voice hesitated, falling silent for a moment.
"You don't even know who you are?"
[The jewel shattered, mixing everything up. With the host's sense of self and body too.]
The voice continued calmly.
[I don't know who I am either. Am I just a fragment of the Heavenly Demon sealed in the jewel... or one of his closest subordinates from life, sealed alongside to aid his resurrection...? I don't know. All that's left strongly is the Heavenly Demon's final wish, right before the jewel broke.]
He collapsed in shock.
If this voice was telling the truth, then the jewel housing the Demonic Cult leader's soul had shattered inside him, blending and merging with his body.
And the thing speaking in his head now was some lingering specter from that jewel, a remnant of the Heavenly Demon.
His head throbbed with confusion.
[Normally, the moment the host grasped the jewel, it would possess and assimilate, then lend and expand the foundation—reconstructing the host's body to the Heavenly Demon's prime, overwriting him with all the Heavenly Demon's martial arts, memories, and self in one go. That was the intent when the jewel was made: for the Heavenly Demon to descend again in a fresh young corpse.]
The voice called him "host."
[But the host crushed the jewel with his teeth, ruining everything. The body half-integrated and stalled, and all the Heavenly Demon's martial arts—even his self—were lost as intended for transmission.]
"So, copying that martial art just now was the jewel's effect?"
[That was the Heavenly Demon's most defining ability and identity in life.]
He rubbed his eyes.
While executing the copied Huashan Sect technique, the Plum Blossom Spinning Dagger, both his pupils had burned red.
Blood-red eyes that didn't look human at all.
[Details later. I'm sleepy.]
The voice refused further talk.
[My self is too incomplete now. Influenced by the host in parts, by the Heavenly Demon in others... probably the jewel's shattering.]
"Wait, just one more thing."
This felt off.
He had to confirm this above all.
"What was that final wish of the Heavenly Demon, the first leader, that lingered so strongly?"
[Survive. Rip them apart. Devour the host. By any means necessary. Satisfied?]
A chill ran down his spine.
This dry voice merely stated facts calmly.
Dangerous.
He felt it etched into his bones: this thing could not be trusted.
[Then I'm off. Host.]
"What should I call you? If I have questions, I need to know how to summon you."
He couldn't consult anyone about this. Every bit of info mattered.
To him now, this voice was his only outlet for answers.
[A name means nothing when even I don't know what I am.]
"Just pick something!"
[...]
It fell silent for a moment.
[Nameless.]
"Nameless?"
[Yes. It suits what I am now best.]
With that, the voice vanished.
At the same time, his pupils returned from red to their original black.
"Can't be."
He shook off the daze settling in.
Coming to his senses, he realized his body now hosted this remnant of the Heavenly Demon that called him "host."
And he had gained the Heavenly Demon's power.
'I can copy any martial art I've seen once.'
It wasn't perfect, but it replicated Dang Sowi's technique almost exactly—though the quality felt inferior to the original.
Still, compared to what he'd gained, it was negligible.
He could grit his teeth, repeat it relentlessly, train harshly, and raise its proficiency.
In a world where murders happened over a single advanced manual, he knew this better than anyone, having clawed from the bottom thirsting for knowledge.
This was an opportunity.
A new starting point, utterly different from his past life of despair and no hope.
The copied technique's lower quality? Train it up.
And the ability to copy martial arts implied even more.
"It's a first."
His heart began to race.
"The first time."
This was the first life where he could grow by doing something—where the path forward was visible.
'I can't let this chance slip.'
He clenched his trembling fist.
Until moments ago, he'd planned to grovel before the Eighth Elder come morning, begging not to be touched by the Moyong Family, hands and feet moving desperately to save his skin.
But his mind changed.
The bowl was already spilled.
He'd hidden in the rural outskirts for so long, waiting for problems to resolve themselves naturally.
Mother had frozen to death in the end.
He'd lived a dog's life all that time.
Yet nothing was resolved.
Just running changed nothing.
No more fleeing.
Face it head-on. Break through.
'Ride the tiger's back.'
No matter the Heavenly Demon's power, without a status to support and wield it, it'd be useless.
He needed a body to develop this power, and the backing and training environment to build it.
Just once would do.
Persuade the Eighth Elder.
He didn't know anything yet, right?
If told to kneel, he would.
If told to lick shoes, he would.
Anything to survive.
Then head somewhere with advanced martial arts to witness, a place to build his strength and learn.
There, he could surely grow.
Into a powerhouse no one else could dream of.
He could see the future.
Hope bloomed.
For the first time, the stairs upward—distant yet clear—were visible.
The dank pre-dawn chill of the semi-basement barn was no issue.
'I must persuade the Eighth Elder.'
Clutching his chest tight with tension, morning broke.
"Here he is."
The door opened, revealing an elderly man with white whiskers reaching his chest.
A tall figure with a dignified bearing.
"You're certain? The Patriarch's bloodline."
"Yes. There was a minor incident on the way, but fortunately, he arrived unscathed, Eighth Elder."
Their eyes met.
His gaze at Moyong Bi—clothes soaked in vomit, blood, and filth from retching the whole way—was utterly vacant.
"Anyone witness you bringing him here?"
It was as if handling an object, not even acknowledging him as Moyong blood.
"None. We locked him straight in the barn as fast as possible."
"Understood."
Moyong Taese turned to the warriors.
"Embarrassing blemishes must be quietly buried, like moisture seeping into dry earth."
A chill gripped his spine.
Unease flooded him.
Something was going wrong.
"Wait!"
Moyong Taese pointed at him and commanded.
"Kill him. Dissolve the corpse with lime powder—no bone fragments left."
"Understood."
The warriors seized his arms.
"Ah."
A gag was stuffed in his mouth.
His mind went blank.
No chance to persuade?
Die like this?
He'd just grasped the first thread to freedom.
He couldn't end so pointlessly.
He thrashed with all his might.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
"Tch."
A fist slammed into his gut.
"Guh."
He vomited gastric fluids and was subdued.
As they dragged him limply away—
"Eighth Elder, a moment."
A man in white training garb, sporting a short beard, halted everyone.
"Medicine King Hall Master. What is it?"
"This child."
The Medicine King Hall Master's pointing finger aimed at him.
Gam Seoin scrutinized the toned body visible through his torn clothes as he struggled.
His gaze swiftly scanned his face—precisely the Solar Plexus acupoint—and his muscles and bones.
"No way...!"
Gam Seoin shoved the flanking warriors aside. His hand snapped to Moyong Bi's wrist, checking his pulse.
"I suspected, but this...!"
His eyes bulged as he groped various parts of the body.
His hands flew over muscles and joints, even sniffing the pus or black blood crusted on his clothes.
Moyong Taese initially puzzled, realized the implications and watched silently.
Time passed.
Finally, Gam Seoin looked up at Moyong Taese.
"Elder, you can't kill this child."
Moyong Taese's bushy white eyebrows twitched.
"What did you say?"
Gam Seoin declared firmly.
"I know the second wife's influence in this matter. But it's too wasteful to kill him like this."
"What?"
Fierce energy erupted from Moyong Taese.
"Have you lost your mind? Whose influence? How dare you spout such nonsense before me!?"
Gam Seoin enunciated each word deliberately toward them.
"This child... has the Heavenly Martial Body."