Four hours had passed.
A thousand exchanges.
After this long and grueling battle, it finally came to an end.
Thud! Thud!
Two wet, sickening sounds.
One heart was pierced by a sword, and one arm was severed from its shoulder.
"Gah!"
Namgung Cheon-yeong coughed up blood, his trembling hand reaching toward Yang-hui, as if he still meant to strangle him. But the hand merely dropped onto Yang-hui's shoulder before it slid off.
"I'm… sorry…"
As Namgung Cheon-yeong's eyes lost their light, Yang-hui drew his sword from the man's heart, though he no longer had the strength to remain standing and collapsed.
"'Sorry,' my ass."
So he thinks everything can just be resolved with an apology? If apologies could fix anything, why would we even need justice in the world?
Despite such thoughts, Yang-hui felt a rising sense of pride surging through his battered body.
'I've won.'
From a young age, Namgung Cheon-yeong had consumed every rare elixir and mastered a supreme martial technique. And Yang-hui, merely the "Supreme Sword of Roaming Martial Artists," had managed to defeat the most powerful sword of the Namgung clan. This meant he had proven it—his family's restored martial arts were, indeed, unmatched.
'Now, all I have to do is go back and share the news with the family…'
Just then—
"Young Master!"
"You filth!"
The masked attackers who had chased Chu-dal returned.
'...Chu-dal.'
One of them held Chu-dal's severed head.
Yang-hui had thought that since he was the main target, Chu-dal might manage to escape. But no—they had hunted him down and killed him, unwilling to leave any witnesses.
Struggling, Yang-hui forced himself back to his feet. Though the battle with Namgung Cheon-yeong had left him wounded beyond measure, he staggered toward the attackers.
"Do you know what Chu-dal's greatest wish was? It was to get married."
Swoosh!
With one strike, Yang-hui decapitated one of the masked men.
"And you killed him? Aren't you afraid of the curse of a bachelor's spirit?"
Thud!
A sword pierced his abdomen, but he retaliated by driving his blade straight into his opponent's heart.
"Kill him! Attack all at once!"
"You idiots, if you're not using any diversion techniques, how do you expect to coordinate a simultaneous attack?"
Two swords struck him from behind, but in exchange, he slashed their throats open.
Only six enemies remained.
The Gaechon Baekpa Sword—an intricate and dazzling dance of blades—filled the air around him.
"Chu-dal, Chu-dal, my friend with the name that means 'River Otter,' are you watching?"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
He felled five of the remaining six, though he sustained wounds that left him unable to move another step.
Only one remained.
"Come on, come at me, you bastard."
Yang-hui was drenched in blood and kneeling on one knee, barely able to stand, but his fighting spirit was that of a demon.
"A-aah…"
Terrified, the last enemy turned and fled instead of fighting.
"Oh, you coward. Running off at the end like this?"
Summoning the last of his energy, Yang-hui hurled his sword.
The blade flew, impaling the fleeing enemy in the back.
Thud!
Confirming the man's collapse, Yang-hui finally let his body relax.
"Chu-dal… I'm sorry."
To truly avenge you, I'd have to eliminate the entire Namgung family… but that's beyond my strength.
His strength continued to drain from his body.
As much blood as he'd lost, that much of his consciousness faded.
"I have to… return… to the family…"
He could no longer keep his eyes open.
And with that, his vision faded into darkness.
A damp, dank underground cave, reeking of decay and muddy water.
Disgusting as it was, this place was all too familiar.
This was the very place where Yang-hui had first gained a family.
'So they say you see your life flash before your eyes right before you die. Guess it's true. Does that mean I'll see my father soon?'
Back then, he had been a young beggar, a child with no home, destined to be sold as a slave by the Black Path.
That was the fate that his adoptive father had saved him from.
His father, Baek Mu-ryang, the supreme hero of Gangseo Province and the head of the Baek family, a man renowned for his righteousness and generosity.
'Soon enough, my father will storm in and crush these Black Path bastards to rescue me.'
In a daze, Yang-hui reminisced about those days in the past.
"Child, you're free now. Go on your way."
Even after Baek Mu-ryang saved him, Yang-hui hadn't moved.
He had nowhere to go and no reason to move, and begging was all he'd known—whether he stayed or wandered, he would always be sleeping under the stars.
Seeing him standing there, his father asked him a question.
"Why aren't you leaving?"
'What did I say again? Something about moving when I was starving, so he shouldn't bother worrying about me.'
Then, as if the memory had been pulled straight from his mind, his father continued speaking.
"I saved you, but it seems your suffering hasn't ended. How can I simply walk away?"
Baek Mu-ryang knelt before the boy and asked, "What is your name?"
Thirty years ago, on that day, his father had asked the same question.
The vividness of this memory was too real.
Involuntarily, Yang-hui opened his mouth.
"I… don't have a name. Since I was young, I was called 'you,' 'boy,' 'that kid'—that's all I've ever been called."
"A man born into this world without a name? Alas, perhaps fate has brought us together… How about this, then?"
Baek Mu-ryang extended his hand.
"We may have met in this dark cave, but may your future be filled with light. I will name you Yang-hui. And take my surname, Baek Yang-hui."
Though his hand was covered with calluses, it somehow seemed soft, warm even, as it filled the boy's entire vision.
"I feel a bond with you, Yang-hui. Will you become my son?"
That day in the distant past, Yang-hui, once known only as "that kid," was given the name Yang-hui and found a family.
"Yang-hui, this is the Baek family manor. From now on, this will be your home."
Clean clothes, warm meals, a kind father, and adorable younger siblings.
It was happiness he had never known since birth.
The Baek family quickly became more precious to him than anything in the world.
"My boy, my dream is for our Baek family to become a noble house once more, to reclaim Gangseo Province."
One day, his father, after sharing drinks with him, revealed his aspirations.
A father's dream had become his son's, and from that day on, Yang-hui dedicated himself to raising the Baek family to greatness.
But—
'Our family's martial arts… no matter how talented I was, reaching mastery in just three years was impossible with techniques so shallow.'
The Baek family's martial arts were no more than third-rate.
A martial family's core was its martial prowess.
Without a solid foundation, how could a family hope to stand among the great clans?
'After long and relentless training, I finally developed techniques worthy of being called supreme. But… what good is it? I couldn't even pass it on, and now I'm dead.'
Damn it, if I'd known, I would have returned sooner.
Something was strange, though.
Shouldn't my life have ended by now? Why hasn't the vision faded?
Just as that thought crossed his mind, a voice like a brand upon his very soul echoed.
[Defying Fate, Returning Life]
[Fate's path has been changed.]
[Restoring the Flow]
[Return, and carry out your will.]
Hearing words imprinted directly upon his soul, Yang-hui realized something.
'Have I… gone back in time? Is that my father in front of me, from all those years ago?'
It felt too real, the young face of his father too vivid.
"Father."
"Yes, from now on, Baek Mu-ryang is your father. Hahaha!"
Who knew how this had happened?
But if—
If he truly had been given another chance—
'Then this time, I'll fulfill my dreams, my father's wishes.'
"I will make the Baek family the greatest clan under the heavens. I swear it."