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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: cyno
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Scratch, scratch—
I have a habit of keeping a daily journal.
It’s an old habit. Ever since the earliest regressions, I’ve done this to remember what happened.
Of course, the journals disappear when time rewinds, but since the purpose is memorization rather than record-keeping, it doesn’t matter.
Now, it’s just second nature.
Scratch—
Setting the neatly ground inkstick aside, I begin writing today’s entry.
The journal I originally used was left behind at the Namgung family estate, so this is a new one I started after coming to the Taiyuan Jin family.
“Ugh, I’m so full. Lunch today was just okay, huh?”
“I’m still not satisfied… Did you really like it?”
“I heard the new chef is divisive. Personally, I thought it was the best lunch ever.”
Chatter drifts in from outside the door.
Trying not to pay attention, I straighten my brush and begin recording today’s events.
But my ears keep perking up at the servants’ conversation.
Swoosh—
Before I know it, the words “Sword That Gives Life” are written in the journal.
A sword that saves lives—a paradox, if you think about it.
A weapon meant to kill, used to save people—could there be a more contradictory phrase?
“Ah, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
I used to rely on this phrase.
The way I acted during my regressions was, in essence, the Sword That Gives Life.
Though, more accurately, it was the Sword That Takes Life…
Reciting the words of ancient sages, I brainwashed myself.
When the line between justice and chivalry blurred, I couldn’t afford to doubt my values or the path I’d walked.
Even if I had to kill dozens of the strong to save one suffering weakling, even if I had to do it over and over after rewinding time, I had to believe it was right.
Because if my values were wrong, then the martial path I’d walked my entire life would also crumble.
And if that happened, the sword of the “Sword Saint” would waver.
For a martial artist, a wavering conviction isn’t just a matter of inner demons.
Life, martial arts, inner energy—everything that defines me would be denied.
At worst, I could fall into demonic deviation.
To prevent that, I used to force myself to believe my actions were the Sword That Gives Life.
Now, it all feels meaningless.
In the end, the path I walked was one of slaughter, not salvation.
The number of people I’ve killed must be dozens of times greater than those I’ve saved.
And above all else…
“Looking at the martial world these days… there’s not a shred of chivalry left.”
“Right? The True Blood War era was the real golden age.”
“Back then… sigh, what’s the point in talking about it? The Martial Alliance Leader wasn’t just some puppet for the Elders like now.”
“The Divine Monk, the Sword Saint, and the Jade Flower—those three were true legends. But well, the Divine Monk renounced the world right after the war, and the Sword Saint… you know how that turned out.”
“A piece of trash beyond imagination. Who’d have thought his so-called ‘negotiation’ with the Heavenly Demon descending from Mount Tian was actually an exchange of demonic arts? No wonder the demon left so easily—there was a hidden agenda.”
“And the Jade Flower? After hearing about the Sword Saint’s disgrace, she went into seclusion. ‘Meditation,’ they call it, but everyone knows she’s just hiding at Kunlun’s peak.”
“When the Sword Saint—the one who championed righteousness—fell, the rest followed.”
“Really? There were always plenty of shady figures, like the Martial Alliance Elders.”
“Tch, none of them could hold a candle to that perverted Sword Saint.”
Those ignorant fools, running their mouths however they please.
They’d be dead by now if not for me—useless, powerless wretches who only know how to flap their gums.
Idiots who can’t tell truth from lies, dancing to Namgung Bin’s tune.
The same cowards who would’ve been trembling behind me, the Divine Monk, and the Jade Flower during the True Blood War—now they dare slander me without even knowing who I am?
‘Meaningless. It was all disgustingly meaningless.’
Dark thoughts swirl in my head.
All those evil people I killed—they were just replaced by new ones.
And if not them, then brainless fools who wouldn’t recognize reason if it slapped them.
‘Worthless insects.’
Suddenly, killing intent surges.
Do they have any idea how much I suffered for them?
The things I did to protect the Central Plains martial world—the unspeakable horrors I endured?
There were even times when I let myself be dismembered, reduced to a plaything for the Blood Cult, just to gather information.
Do they have any idea what I went through, scouring the world to save them?
They dismiss my desperate efforts like trash, yet swallow a single lie without question.
Beyond meaningless—disgust now stains my mind black.
Snap—!
Unconsciously, my grip tightens.
Looking down, I see the brush snapped in half.
The words “Sword That Gives Life” in the journal are now crumpled and smeared, warped into “Sword That Takes Life.”
“You heard about the recent murders of Daoist Master Do and Elder Su, right? When I heard the Sword Saint left the Namgung family without causing trouble, I thought he at least had some conscience left. Guess not.”
“They say people never change. The Sword Saint was always a villain at heart. That nature doesn’t just disappear.”
It feels like my entire life, my regressions, my suffering—are being denied to my face.
These insignificant worms, who I could kill with a flick of my finger, babble on without even knowing who’s listening.
Even though I thought I’d moved past this, unbearable rage boils up.
“Hah… hah…!”
My head burns as if about to explode, my breath ragged.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this.
The urge to storm out there and tear those ungrateful wretches apart—
“Son-in-law!! Snap out of it!!”
“…!”
“Your mind is collapsing! Do you want to fall into demonic deviation?!”
‘Tch…!’
“I understand how you feel. Betrayed by the life, effort, and pain you endured. Having seen your memories, I get it.”
‘Understand? What do you understand? Have you ever regressed as many times as I have? How can you compare watching from the sidelines to living through the pain?’
My thoughts sharpen with heated emotion, as if stabbing at Jin Wooyong with words.
“Fine! You’re right—I don’t know the extent of your suffering! But one thing’s certain: rage isn’t something to wield, it’s something to master! What kind of martial artist lets anger consume him?!”
“…!”
Jin Wooyong’s words reverberate loudly.
Though chaotic, they also bring an odd sense of calm.
My trembling hand steadies.
The fist clenched in fury relaxes, and though the journal inside is now misshapen, it unfolds.
“But… I can’t bring myself to curse the Sword Saint.”
“Look at you, always full of surprises. Don’t you know the Peng family and the Shuroongjang River Sect have eyes everywhere?”
“You know why. My daughter—the Sword Saint saved her.”
“……”
“The moment I heard she’d been taken by the Blood Cult, he rushed to rescue her. Do you know how I felt? Helpless, praying desperately while my daughter was in danger?”
“Well… I get where you’re coming from, but…”
“No, you don’t. Staying awake all night, begging heaven and the Sword Saint with nothing but a bowl of water. When he brought her back the next day without a scratch, I cried from gratitude.”
“L-lower your voice…! We’re outside… What if someone’s in this annex?!”
“Even if the Sword Saint acted for false glory, without him, I’d never have seen my daughter again. How could I curse him? A thousand thanks wouldn’t be enough.”
“Agh…! This guy… I told you to keep it down…!”
In the journal—though slightly crumpled and smudged—
The words “Sword That Gives Life” remain clearly written.
“Listen, I get your anger… but those people are just ordinary folk who’ve done no wrong.”
‘I know.’
My surging emotions quickly settle.
“And you’re going to lose control over trash like that? Ruin your mind for them?”
“……”
“You were in serious danger just now. Your pent-up fury seeped into your dantian—you nearly became a demon.”
‘Is that so.’
“Ugh, I was napping peacefully in your mindscape when this mess started. Your spirit shook so violently I had to step in. Control yourself.”
‘…Understood.’
Even though I can’t see him, I can feel Jin Wooyong’s disapproving glare.
“A pearl in the palm.”
‘Huh?’
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”
‘No, I mean… why bring that up now?’
“No matter what your brother does, no matter what slander you face—in the end, all you’ve done is good.”
‘…I’m not sure it was good.’
“After hearing those people just now, you still doubt it? Truth always comes out, like a needle from a bag. Namgung Bin is skilled, but he’s not perfect. You know that better than anyone.”
‘……’
“Sigh, you’re a headache. Was saving the weak not good? Did you not save the martial world from the Blood Cult? Like that father said earlier?”
‘Those Blood Cultists were also someone’s fathers and sons. Those fools were villains to someone too.’
“If you put it like that, there’s nothing left to say… I was trying to comfort you, and you shut me down…”
My mind is too chaotic right now.
A strong urge to be alone rises.
But thanks to this ghost bound to me, even that’s impossible.
“Tch.”
“What’s with that sinister smirk?”
Am I just not meant to find peace, even after abandoning Namgung Cheolbin?
I did everything—stopped the Blood Demon, stopped the Heavenly Demon. Yet heaven keeps tormenting me.
That resentment must’ve shown on my face.
“It’s nothing.”
“Look at you, slipping back into that state.”
I quickly revert to my usual expression.
Whether intentional or not, changing my face seems to change my mindset.
Surprisingly, my mind and body calm almost instantly.
Just as I’m inwardly marveling at this—
“Do you want revenge?”
Jin Wooyong abruptly asks about revenge.
‘What kind of unreasonable question is that? You, of all people, know revenge is just a chain of bloodshed.’
“And breaking that chain is also revenge—something you know better than I do.”
‘…Why are you saying this to me?’
Jin Wooyong continues, his words piercing deep into my heart.
“If you want revenge, take it.”
‘It’s meaningless.’
“Let me give you an objective view: Namgung Bin is evil, and you are good. Absolute evil and a madman of goodness. What’s meaningless about punishing evil and rewarding good?”
‘What difference does it make now?’
“You say that, but part of you is shaken by my words.”
‘Are you just making things up now?’
“I’m not advocating revenge. Even a child knows nothing good comes from it.”
‘Then why keep bringing it up?’
“Because it pains me. You think you just had an episode today? Whether you realize it or not, the ‘you’ of the past three years in your memories has been abnormal.”
‘……?’
“This will keep happening. Why? Because your personality is reverting to how it was during your regressions! Judging by your face, you don’t even realize that after stopping the Heavenly Demon—after experiencing the post-Heavenly Demon era for the first time in tens of thousands of regressions—you suddenly became docile!”
‘……???’
Is he lying to persuade me?
But that’s too absurd even for a lie.
My personality changed without me knowing? Nonsense.
“Though it was strange! Every time I saw your memories, I wondered why someone so cold and sharp kept falling for your brother’s schemes. The you who’d split skulls the moment someone seemed evil—why didn’t you resolve things by force with him? Now I see—you never even considered it!”
My face must look utterly bewildered right now.
Because his words don’t resonate—yet they do, unsettlingly.
“But after leaving the Namgung family, you’ve been slowly reverting to your regression-era self! The emotionless killing machine that moved under the banner of justice is regaining its emotions! Ugh, why am I the one explaining this…?”
‘……’
“Sigh, fine. I’m just worried. That all your pent-up fury might lash out in the wrong direction. If it must be unleashed, better aimed at a villain like Namgung Bin.”
‘Do you think I’m some fool who can’t control his anger?’
“Hard to believe otherwise after what I just saw.”
‘Ahem…’
“Well, do as you will. You’re my son-in-law—I trust you’ll handle it.”
He’s backing down exactly as I wanted, so why… why do I feel this reluctance?
A part of me wishes he’d hold on longer, convince me further.
A shameful desire I can’t voice.
“As for your episodes… I’ll do my best to suppress them. After all, I am your father-in-law.”
‘…How long will you keep that title?’
“So live as you wish. Didn’t my descendant say it? You’ve earned the right to live however you want. I wholeheartedly agree.”
‘What I want is rest.’
“Is that really all?”
‘It’d be nice to write in my journal daily, polish my inkstone in peace. I’d like to support the young lady better, too. If I’m being greedy—I’d like to eat chicken legs more often. That’s all I want.’
It’s true.
All I truly want is just that much.
…Probably.
Rustle—!
“Uncle!”
Just then, the door bursts open with a lively energy.
My young lady, Jin Gayoung.
“It’s time to leave! For the Seven Flowers Tournament!”
“Understood. I’ll prepare immediately.”
“Just bring yourself!”
So, it’s time for the tournament.
My head still throbs from Jin Wooyong’s words… but as Jin Gayoung’s aide, I need to pull myself together.
Grabbing only the essentials, I head out—
“Remember my words.”
Jin Wooyong’s voice grips the back of my neck.
‘What am I supposed to remember?’
Thump, thump…!
Some part of me anticipates what he’ll say next.
“Revenge isn’t complicated.”
The expected words.
Yet, I refuse again.
‘Stop talking nonsense.’
Revenge is a bad thing.
I must remain a good man.
“Hah.”
‘Anything else to say?’
With that, I board the carriage waiting outside.
“Absolute Goodness doesn’t exist… but if it did, it would be you.”
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