Prologue
"They say you can't fix a person."
Why did I only realize how true that was after a blade was lodged in my back?
Puuk!
The sword pierced straight through me.
"Keugh!"
Blood spurted like a fountain.
I sneered at the hollow end that was rushing toward me.
I had devoted my entire life to the clan.
And the price I received in return was a sword through my back.
'Is this all loyalty is worth?'
My past life flashed before my eyes.
Mumyeong —a man without a name.
Taken in by the head of the Cheon Clan, I was called Mumyeong instead of being given a name.
"Protect this child. That is the reason for your life."
Mumyeong trained mercilessly.
All of it was to become the personal guard of the Cheon Clan's eldest young master, Cheon Muyang.
'Why didn't I realize back then what a hopeless bastard he was?'
But Cheon Muyang was a scoundrel.
The clan head did nothing but harshly pressure the wayward Cheon Muyang.
Was it rebellion against that pressure?
Cheon Muyang became a scoundrel.
Even after becoming the clan head himself, that nature never changed.
'Clan Head, are you watching? You should have abandoned that scoundrel instead.'
Even when Mumyeong became his guard, it was already too late.
Cheon Muyang's rotten nature had long since been completed.
At first, it was still bearable.
Because the clan head was still alive.
But then, suddenly, the clan head died.
'After that, Cheon Muyang became the clan head…'
Amid great chaos, Cheon Muyang ascended to the position.
But nothing changed.
The clan's fortunes rapidly declined, and all those who had devoted their loyalty to the Cheon Clan were expelled.
In the end, only jackals who grovelled and flattered remained.
'Should I have left back then…?'
I should have left.
And yet, Mumyeong stayed by Cheon Muyang's side.
He tried, somehow, to support the collapsing Cheon Clan.
But there was very little Mumyeong could do.
In the midst of it all, Cheon Muyang made an irreversible choice.
'He brought in the Demonic Cult.'
Even now, I didn't know why.
But Cheon Muyang joined hands with the Demonic Cult.
'Something that should never have been done.'
By the time Mumyeong realized it, the Demonic Cult had already revealed its true colors.
In an instant, the Cheon Clan was engulfed in flames.
The Cheon Clan I had tried to protect my entire life met its end in such a futile way.
"The price of devotion… was this sword?"
The flash of memories ended.
Time flowed once more.
Clang.
The sword fell to the ground.
When I turned my head to look at the one who had stabbed me, a hollow laugh escaped.
Tremble. Tremble.
There stood Cheon Muyang, the head of the Cheon Clan, shaking uncontrollably.
"I did everything to save you, Young Master… yet you're the one killing me. They said they'd spare you if you brought them my head, didn't they?"
I understood.
He wanted to live.
And yet, I couldn't understand him.
Mumyeong smiled coldly.
"Did you think that was how you'd survive?"
If you truly wanted to live,
you should never have brought them in.
"You were wrong."
Cheon Muyang didn't know.
That to them, all of this was nothing more than amusement.
Slash.
Cheon Muyang's head fell.
It was an ending long foretold.
The end of the eldest young master I had tried so desperately to protect was this utterly pitiful.
"How foolish."
I sneered.
That mockery was directed solely at myself.
"From the very beginning…"
I should never have served that young master.
Cough!
I spat out a mouthful of blood.
Perhaps even my blood had already died—there wasn't a trace of red, only pitch-black blood like the deepest darkness.
"No… who is there left to blame…?"
At this point, who could I blame, and who could I resent?
"I only regret it."
I regret that I never fulfilled my lofty ambitions.
That I never achieved my dream of standing tall as a master of the martial world.
And I regret the deaths of the innocent people who would perish here today.
Mumyeong looked at the black shadows closing in around him and sneered one last time.
"In my next life, I don't want to be born nameless again."
Puuk!
Dozens of swords pierced Mumyeong's body.
Drip—
Blood flowed.
And so, the man without a name died.
Chapter 1 – Reincarnation
'Cold.'
Death was cold.
I thought that was the end.
Trickle, trickle.
But then, suddenly, I heard the sound of flowing water—and felt something cold against my feet.
"Ah! C-Cold!"
I opened my eyes.
This didn't seem like the afterlife.
"Am I… alive?"
The sword that pierced my back.
The sensation of dozens of blades tearing through my flesh and stealing my life was still vivid.
Then what was this ticklish feeling?
"My, my lord?"
A strange voice came from below.
Naturally, I lowered my gaze.
And an unfamiliar young maid was kneading my feet.
"Uh—Aaaah!"
"W-What is it? I-I'm sorry! Young Master!"
"N-No, it's fine. I just felt a bit dizzy…"
Mumyeong quickly calmed his racing heart.
'This doesn't feel unfamiliar.'
It didn't feel unfamiliar, starting with the voice.
The maid washing his feet was also clearly a face Mumyeong recognized.
"Aren't you Wolyeong?"
"Yes, Young Master. That's correct. If I've made any mistake, please forgive me."
Wolyeong was the maid who served the eldest young master.
And she was also a child who was constantly abused by him.
Shiver.
So although she continued speaking with a composed expression, she couldn't hide the trembling of her hands.
Seeing this, Mumyeong felt doubt.
'She's different from the Wolyeong I remember.'
In his memories, Wolyeong was a woman as cold as snow.
Someone who showed no emotion no matter how much abuse she suffered from the eldest young master.
'She's still young.'
But what about her now?
She was a frightened young maid.
Fear was plainly written all over her.
'What on earth is going on?'
Mumyeong asked Wolyeong.
"Then why do you call me Young Master? Where is Young Master Cheon Muyang?"
"Pardon?"
The fear vanished in an instant.
The emotion that replaced it was confusion.
"But… you are Young Master Cheon Muyang, aren't you?"
"W-What did you say?"
Mumyeong instinctively looked at the basin by his feet.
Reflected in the water was the face of the coward Cheon Muyang—the very man who had stabbed him.
"T-This is impossible…!"
It couldn't be.
He wanted to dismiss it as a dream, but he knew better than anyone that this was reality.
"Wolyeong."
"Yes?"
"How old am I?"
"You are fifteen this year, at the age of jihak."
"Hm…."
Jihak meant fifteen.
On the day Mumyeong died, Cheon Muyang had only just reached irip—thirty.
That meant he had gone back a full fifteen years.
'This makes no sense. How could I have become the eldest young master?'
It couldn't be.
He wanted to dismiss it as a dream, but he knew better than anyone that this was reality.
So he asked again.
"One more question."
"Yes?"
"Is there anyone in the clan called Mumyeong ?"
Wolyeong hesitated for a moment.
No matter how she thought about it, there was no such name.
"No. There isn't."
"I see…."
His existence had disappeared.
Mumyeong felt something strange.
'I became Young Master Cheon Muyang… and because of that, I—Mumyeong—vanished?'
A hollow laugh escaped him.
'I did say I didn't want to be born nameless again… but still.'
How could he reincarnate as the very lord he had once served?
Grit.
Cheon Muyang clenched his teeth.
The life Mumyeong had lived was far too vivid to dismiss as a simple dream.
In the future that awaited them, the one who would lead the Cheon Clan to annihilation was Cheon Muyang himself.
'I couldn't stop it.'
Mumyeong hadn't been able to stop it.
The chilling sensation of dying was still painfully clear.
'Yes. Maybe this is a chance.'
It might be a chance.
A chance to fix the Cheon Clan that Cheon Muyang had destroyed.
'I don't know why this happened. I don't know how it happened. No—none of that matters.'
No matter the reason.
No matter the principle behind his reincarnation.
It didn't matter.
'Protect the Cheon Clan.'
That was the same as protecting himself—and protecting Cheon Muyang, who had once been Mumyeong's duty.
'I have to accept it.'
Mumyeong was dead.
And Mumyeong had to accept that he had become Cheon Muyang.
'I am Cheon Muyang.'
Mumyeong's consciousness shifted into Cheon Muyang's.
Wolyeong looked at him cautiously and spoke.
"Y-Young Master?"
"Yes, Wolyeong."
Cheon Muyang smiled at her.
Wolyeong had suffered greatly because of the scoundrel eldest young master.
And yet, she had never left the clan, even until the moment he died.
Knowing this, Cheon Muyang could trust her.
"Let's get along well from now on."
Cheon Muyang smiled and gently patted Wolyeong's shoulder as she stood there unable to hide her bewilderment.
"…?"
Wolyeong was clearly confused.
Before she could even manage her expression, Cheon Muyang was already thinking about what he needed to do first.
"Where are my martial clothes?"
"Ah, they're here."
Wolyeong opened the wardrobe.
Inside, rows of crisp, sharply pressed martial robes were neatly arranged.
Seeing this, Cheon Muyang clicked his tongue.
They looked as though they had never been worn even once.
"Ts."
"Shall I prepare something more comfortable?"
"No. There's no need. I'll probably only be wearing these martial clothes from now on."
The Cheon Clan was a martial family.
Martial robes should be no different from everyday clothing.
Cheon Muyang spoke his destination to Wolyeong, who still hadn't adjusted.
"I'm going to the Cheonryong Library."
"Pardon? The Cheonryong Library?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"N-No! Of course not."
"And bring another set of martial clothes."
"Eh?"
"I plan to go to the training grounds after the library. It'd be nice to have something to change into, wouldn't it?"
"Ah… yes!"
Wolyeong nodded.
She remembered that other maids always carried spare martial clothes.
"I-I'll prepare them."
"Good. I'm counting on you."
After Wolyeong left,
Cheon Muyang undressed.
Then he examined his own body.
"Hm…."
Cheon Muyang had been born with a silver spoon.
From birth, he had undergone muscle and marrow cleansing and consumed countless elixirs.
"And that was the problem. For a scoundrel like this, it was poison…."
Cheon Muyang let out a bitter smile.
Despite being born into an environment blessed for a martial artist, this foolish scoundrel had kicked that blessing aside.
Whether elixirs or body refinement, once you accept external energies, you must make them your own through constant effort.
"I should've refined the elixir energies through training. Because I didn't, I ended up giving up so much."
Each elixir contained a different kind of energy.
Naturally, conflict between those energies was inevitable.
To prevent that, one had to dissolve them through internal cultivation methods—but since Cheon Muyang never trained, his body began collapsing from the inside.
"Haa… There were already signs at this age. It must have been quite painful…."
After examining his body,
He found several clumps of conflicting elixir energies locked in a struggle.
The backlash had already manifested.
His bloated physique was proof of that.
"Ts."
Perhaps his increasingly scoundrel-like behavior was also an attempt to forget that pain.
"Eldest Young Master, I have no intention of living the same life as you."
He didn't want to see the Cheon Clan fall.
Nor did he want to meet such a miserable end.
This wasn't just his own problem.
'Countless people who died for the clan.'
Wolyeong was no exception.
Countless members of the Cheon Clan had to die.
'I will protect them—myself included.'
To do that, he had to become strong.
Clench!
He wanted to grow stronger.
"So please, do not think this unfair. I am merely choosing to walk the path you were originally meant to tread."
Glance.
A sword entered Cheon Muyang's field of vision.
The Cheon Gwang Sword (Heavenly Light Sword) bestowed upon the Cheon Clan's eldest young master was a famed blade.
However, because of its owner, in his previous life it had been ridiculed as a pearl on a pig's neck, and the sword itself had often been mocked as well.
"You too—don't grieve that your master has changed."
Whoooong!
Cheon Muyang grasped the sword.
At that moment, a clear and pure resonant hum—one he had never heard before—rang out.
The sword's will was conveyed to him.
"Thank you. First, I should tend to you."
Before heading to the Cheonryong Library,
Cheon Muyang first had to clean the Cheon Gwang Sword, which had been neglected for so long that it was thick with dust.
Then, wearing the Cheon Gwang Sword restored to its shine, Cheon Muyang stepped outside.
"Ah…."
Sunlight poured down.
The sensation he thought he would never feel again tickled Cheon Muyang's skin.
"So I really have been reborn…."
There was no time to linger in sentiment.
Cheon Muyang headed straight for the Cheonryong Library.
"Young Master!"
Wolyeong was already waiting there.
"Right. Since I'm the only one allowed inside the library anyway, rest comfortably around here."
"Pardon?"
Wolyeong's eyes widened.
She had thought the scoundrel eldest young master was strange since morning, but now it truly felt like something had changed.
"Y-Young Master."
"Hm?"
"By any chance… was the stir-fried mushrooms you had last night not to your liking?"
In other words—had he eaten something wrong?
Cheon Muyang shrugged.
"I don't know if you'll believe me, but it seems that stir-fried mushrooms are the reason I could be reborn."
"…What?"
It made even less sense.
Leaving the confused Wolyeong behind, Cheon Muyang tried to enter the Cheonryong Library.
Clank!
If only the guards hadn't stopped him.
"What's this?"
"Unauthorized individuals are not permitted to enter the Cheonryong Library, Young Master."
"Do I lack the qualifications?"
"Yes. The Clan Head revoked them. Have you forgotten?"
"Ah… did he?"
Only then did he remember.
Since he had shown no intention of learning martial arts, the Clan Head had gone so far as to strip him of even the right to enter the Cheonryong Library.
The intention had been for him to realize his mistakes and seek forgiveness—but how could a once-in-a-generation scoundrel understand that?
'I probably just celebrated and went drinking.'
Now that things were different, he wanted to meet the Clan Head first.
To seek forgiveness and regain the right to enter the Cheonryong Library.
"The Clan Head has gone on an external visit."
"When will he return?"
"That, we do not know."
What could he do?
The Clan Head wasn't in the estate.
Cheon Muyang lightly praised the guards for their diligence.
"It can't be helped, then. Thank you for your hard work."
"...."
He pretended not to notice their slightly startled looks.
'Did they think I'd cause a scene or something?'
The mark of being labeled a scoundrel ran deeper than he thought.
Cheon Muyang walked back to Wolyeong.
"They say I don't have the qualifications."
"Ah…."
Wolyeong quickly grasped the situation.
She assumed he would demand alcohol and head back.
"Well, I'll train until the Clan Head returns. I know the basic martial arts, at least."
"…Pardon?"
In the past, the only martial arts he had been allowed to learn were the Cheon Clan's basic techniques.
Even those had been enough to make him worthy of becoming the eldest young master's bodyguard.
"Did you mishear me? We're going to the training grounds. You're coming too."
"Ah—y-yes!"
Wolyeong had no choice.
She hurried after Cheon Muyang as he strode ahead.
'Please… let nothing happen.'
She prayed that nothing would happen.
There were many training grounds within the Cheon Clan estate.
Originally, the one closest to the Cheonryong Library had been reserved solely for Cheon Muyang, but that privilege had also been revoked, making it a shared training ground.
Whoosh!
Whoosh, whoosh!
Countless trainees swung their swords, honing themselves.
Day and night, those devoted to martial arts aimed to become full-fledged warriors of the Cheon Clan.
To them, Cheon Muyang was nothing more than the clan's eldest son—a scoundrel they refused to acknowledge as their future lord.
"Is there any space left?"
Freeze.
As Cheon Muyang—the infamous scoundrel—appeared, everyone's movements halted at once.
All eyes gathered on him.
Whether he noticed or not,
Cheon Muyang settled into a corner of the training grounds.
"Sit there and rest."
"Ah—yes!"
Cheon Muyang drew the Cheon Gwang Sword from its scabbard, freshly polished.
"Hm. As expected, a famed sword is different."
The sword Mumyeong had wielded in the past had been nothing more than a cheap iron blade—this was on an entirely different level.
"No more excuses about the sword being bad."
Clench!
He gripped the sword.
This body wasn't covered in hardened calluses like his past one—it felt rough and unfamiliar.
'How long has it been… since I could feel the weight of a sword?'
A sword held in a new body.
It felt unfamiliar, yet somehow thrilling.
'I…'
Whoong!
Under the clear sky,
the Cheon Gwang Sword soared upward.
'…can become strong.'
Filled with that earnest wish, the Cheon Gwang Sword plunged straight down toward the earth.