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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: cyno
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“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I am not your son-in-law or anything of the sort.”
Naturally, Byeolak vehemently denied the “son-in-law” label.
“What? You mean you’re not that girl’s lover? Then why the hell were you swinging me around so passionately for her sake?”
The founding Lord sounded almost accusatory, as if Byeolak’s actions made no sense.
“…If you dare speak of the Young Lady like that again, I won’t care if you’re her ancestor—you won’t like what happens next.”
“A-Alright, you brat. Calm down. What kind of punk glares at his elder like that?”
As Byeolak’s voice dropped into a growl, the founding Lord immediately adjusted his tone.
“Anyway, who the hell are you, then? Why’s a young man like you hanging around my descendant, making people misunderstand and causing a scene?”
“I’m merely her guard.”
“Since when do guards barge into their lord’s bedroom in the middle of the night? The world’s changed a lot since I’ve been sealed away. I see even the old saying—‘men and women should not sit together after seven’—has become obsolete.”
His sarcastic tone remained, but—
“It was because of the resonance between you and the Young Lady. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come at night.”
“How’d you know about the resonance between her energy and mine? The more I see, the more curious I get about you.”
“I’m the one who’s curious. How does the founding Lord of a great family end up sealed inside a weapon?”
“You’re answering my question with another question? What an insolent brat.”
“…Speak while I’m still being polite. I’m not the type to let things slide when it comes to the Young Lady.”
Byeolak leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
Though usually composed, at that moment, he radiated a terrifying aura that would make even a demon flinch.
His grating voice only amplified the effect.
“Y-You disrespectful little—!”
“Introduce yourself properly first. And explain why you were trapped in that weapon.”
Under the thinly veiled threats, the founding Lord faltered slightly.
“Haa, fine. That look in your eyes says you’ll devour me if I don’t. Well, I suppose it’s a relief—I’ve had no one to vent my grievances to for centuries.”
Reluctantly backing down, he glanced at Byeolak’s expression.
Despite having been called a “reckless tyrant” in his prime, even he couldn’t act carelessly under Byeolak’s blade-like presence.
He could still grumble, though.
“Fetch me paper and brush so I may inscribe my glorious name.”
“What kind of joke is that in the Mental Realm?”
“Not even a single word of courtesy? You wretched—! I’ll never entrust my descendant to you!”
Clutching at his pride, the founding Lord continued.
“Jin Wooyong—three characters of my name.”
“I see.”
“I don’t know how much time has passed, but… I am the founding Lord who established the Taiyuan Jin Family. The one who created the *Frozen Flame Moon* and elevated it into a martial sect.”
“I had guessed that much.”
“In my active years… I don’t know if you’ve heard of me. I was known as the *Heavenly Power Axe*, ranked among the *Ten Great Masters of the World*. Does that name still remain?”
“If we’re talking about the era of the Ten Great Masters… that was at least five hundred years ago. Since then, they’ve been reduced to the *Five Supreme Masters*. It’s still the same now.”
“Is that so? Only five left at my level? Martial arts must’ve declined.”
*Declined, huh?*
Byeolak silently shook his head at Jin Wooyong’s words.
In the current martial world, there were absolute masters who rivaled—even surpassed—the Five Supreme Masters, yet were unrecognized by the masses.
True monsters, far beyond the likes of the Twelve Paragons.
“Still, for someone who once stood among the Five Supreme Masters, your name is unfamiliar. I’ve never heard of the *Heavenly Power Axe* either. And for a family founded by one, the Taiyuan Jin Family’s current reputation doesn’t match.”
“Of course not. My damned younger brother erased my name.”
“Ah…”
Byeolak’s gaze subtly shifted, as if to say, *You too?*
Though Jin Wooyong didn’t catch the meaning, he vaguely sensed the shared sentiment.
“May I ask what happened?”
“Like I said, it’s fine. After being sealed for centuries, I’ve had no one to complain to—it’s been suffocating. Back then, I was at the peak of my power. Especially with the axe—I reached a level where I could contend for the title of greatest in history. Ah… Those days when I could split mountains with a swing… How glorious they were…”
“What exactly happened?”
“My younger brother was a fanatical devotee of the sword. He believed the sword was the ‘king of all weapons,’ while axes were crude tools for butchers. He never shut up about it.”
“There are plenty like that. People obsessed with weapon pride.”
“In the end, he betrayed me. After killing me, he swallowed the Taiyuan Jin Family whole. He spent every coin he had to erase my legacy from history and twisted the *Frozen Flame Moon* into the *Frozen Flame Sword*.”
“Killed you? A Five Supreme Master, dying so easily?”
“I don’t know either. I took a nap and woke up as a soul bound to the *Moonlight Axe*, watching my own funeral. If not death, what else could it be?”
“……”
The explanation was unsettling, but Byeolak—recalling his own fall from grace—closed his mouth instead of probing further.
Instead, he changed the subject.
“No wonder the Taiyuan Jin Family’s martial arts felt like forcing the wrong clothes onto someone.”
“Exactly. Killing your own brother over something so trivial—what a lunatic. But then again… aren’t martial artists still the same? Arguing over whether the sword or the saber reigns supreme, fighting to the death over it. Meanwhile, the true king of all weapons—the axe—is right there.”
A scene from yesterday flashed in Byeolak’s mind, and he let out a dry chuckle.
The martial artists he’d seen brawling in the streets, wrecking an inn and drawing blood over whose sword or saber style was superior—it perfectly matched Jin Wooyong’s words.
*A saying came to mind: No matter how much time passes, martial artists never change.*
“Eventually, my descendants, practicing the wrong sword art, declined slowly. I was remembered as a ‘reckless eccentric who occasionally picked up an axe when he lost his sword.’ Disheartened, I slept inside the *Moonlight Axe*… Until someone suddenly woke me.”
“That would be me.”
“Right. The ‘son-in-law’ misunderstanding… Well, seeing you devote an entire day to refining a martial art for her made me think that. Plus, you two look about the same age, and you visited her room at night.”
“I see. Understood. Then, please return to where you were.”
“Just like that? What nonsense is this?”
Jin Wooyong glared at Byeolak as if he were looking at an outrageous fool.
“I haven’t heard a single thing about you yet, and you’re telling me to leave?”
“Ah, that’s…”
“I saw it earlier. You were passionately modifying my *Frozen Flame Moon*. Much as I hate to admit it, your revised ‘Moon Method’ was a level above mine.”
“……”
“Honestly, it was impressive. In just half a day, you dismantled and perfected my life’s work. And you’re so young—it even made me a little jealous.”
“…I don’t know what to say.”
“Good, I didn’t expect an answer anyway. What I want to ask is something else.”
Jin Wooyong’s gaze swept over Byeolak.
Then, his eyes scanned the Mental Realm around them.
At a glance, it seemed chaotic—yet beneath the surface, there was an undeniable depth.
“What kind of life have you lived?”
His question carried a hint of awe.
“What kind of life could leave… *this* as your Mental Realm?”
He pointed at the space around them.
“The Mental Realm reflects one’s spirit.”
An ordinary person’s Mental Realm is a mix of light and darkness—some parts clean, others tainted.
But Byeolak’s was different.
Not just different—*grotesquely* so.
“What’s wrong with my spirit?”
Flames licked at the edges, fissures oozing blood like geysers.
There was light—*too much* light.
Areas touched by it sizzled and burned, while the rest lay charred, as if scorched by hellfire.
Faint, distorted screams seemed to echo in the distance.
“This is the *Hell Realm* in the flesh.”
“Well, everyone has their own circumstances.”
“What’s even stranger is *you*.”
Jin Wooyong jabbed a finger at Byeolak.
“Only the soul can enter the Mental Realm. Meaning, what I see now *is* your soul—and yet…”
“What’s wrong with my soul?”
Byeolak spread his arms as if confused.
To Jin Wooyong, the sight was even more horrifying.
His entire body was drenched in blood, a gaping hole in his abdomen barely holding his organs in place.
Exposed ribs, legs barely maintaining form, and a face marred by grotesque scars—as if someone had clawed at it in frenzy.
Yet Byeolak simply smiled, as if none of it mattered.
“…You’re insane.”
“What kind of life twists a soul into *this*? Even the Asura Demon King’s soul wasn’t this mangled.”
“That’s…”
“No, don’t answer. I’ll see for myself.”
Suddenly reverting to his *Heavenly Power Axe* demeanor, Jin Wooyong grabbed the handle of a door at the edge of the Mental Realm.
The door to the *Realm of Memories*.
“W-Wait—! Don’t open that—!”
Byeolak urgently raised a hand to stop him, but Jin Wooyong twisted the knob without hesitation.
“Let’s see what kind of life you’ve lived.”
*Click.*
The moment the door opened—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
A scream, raw and shattered.
Then—
*”Endureendureendureendureendureendureendureendureendure—”*
*”Can’tgiveupcan’tgiveupcan’tgiveupcan’tgiveupcan’tgiveup—”*
*”Comebacktolifecomebacktolifecomebacktolifecomebacktolife—”*
Maddened, desperate mantras—repeated endlessly.
“What in the…”
Overwhelmed, Jin Wooyong’s voice died as his gaze shifted inside.
“BOOM!! CRASH!!”
A *Realm of Asura*—far vaster and more brutal than the Mental Realm—unfolded before him.
A hellscape of blood and flesh, the earth splitting, the sky collapsing.
No matter how far he looked, the horrors never ended.
“……!”
Stunned beyond speech, he barely registered Byeolak calmly closing the door.
Even as it shut, Jin Wooyong remained frozen, unable to process what he’d seen.
“I did warn you not to open it.”
“……”
“Ah, were you shocked? It wasn’t that big a deal.”
Byeolak spoke as if it were nothing.
Jin Wooyong couldn’t comprehend it.
“Now, please leave. We’ve said all we needed to. You even saw memories I told you not to.”
“…You.”
Though it was only a glimpse—
What he’d seen was an *abyss*.
A chasm formed from layers upon layers of memories, stacked over eons.
“What the hell are you?”
After seeing *that*, how could he just walk away?
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