Chapter 1: To the Past (1)

“Huff!”

As I pressed down on the wound, blood surged immediately, soaking the makeshift bandage red.

“Damn it! If I don’t grind the Blood Demon Castle bastards to dust, I’m not a Demonic Master!”

The old man grinding his teeth exuded an aura not befitting his refined appearance, despite being a figure of the demonic arts.

His once-glorious golden robes were now tattered, and his chest bore a hand-shaped mark three times larger than an average human’s palm.

The mark had melted through the gold fabric, leaving a vivid impression of a handprint for all to see.

“Cough!”

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, within which fragments of his innards floated, resembling the filling of a recently consumed meat dumpling.

His organs had ruptured to the point where even the Great Divine Immortal would deem recovery impossible.

The old man’s face turned grim, as if he understood the gravity of his condition.

“If I don’t find someone within two hours, I’ll die here just like this.”

What mattered most wasn’t treating his injuries, but finding a vessel to perform the Spirit Possession Technique.

However, even just descending the mountain would take longer than two hours, plunging him into despair.

Yet, giving up and succumbing to death wasn’t an option.

The Demonic Master was even willing to capture a slash-and-burn farmer in the mountains to enact the art. Unfortunately, the forest here wasn’t thick enough to support such inhabitants.

“Damn it, there’s no way there’d be bandits in a place like this… Is this really the end?”

His legs gave out, and he collapsed.

“So futile. Truly futile.”

He had resolved to let go of everything and embrace death.

But just then, a plume of dust rose along the ridgeline.

Summoning his remaining strength, he focused his sight, spotting a two-horse carriage speeding along the rugged mountain path.

“Yes, the heavens are not completely indifferent. They have granted me one last chance.”

By some stroke of fortune, the carriage was headed in his direction.

“Hyah!”

The middle-aged driver sitting on the coachman’s bench lashed at the foam-mouthed horses with all his might.

He whipped them so fiercely that blood was trickling down the horses’ flanks.

But his appearance was unusual for a coachman.

He was dressed in luxurious silk garments and adorned with ornaments that seemed incredibly expensive.

His appearance screamed wealth, unmistakably that of a rich merchant.

He was twice the size of an average man, with a belly so swollen it resembled that of a woman about to give birth.

The sword at his side looked like a mere twig in comparison to his girth.

In every way, he looked like the stereotypical image of an obese wealthy man.

Suddenly, one of the horses, which had been running smoothly, collapsed forward, causing the carriage to tip over.

The middle-aged man leaped from the coachman’s seat the moment the horse collapsed.

Despite his obese frame, his movements were surprisingly agile.

Thud!

However, lacking sufficient inner strength, he landed with a noticeable noise. Seeing someone emerging from the forest, he shouted,

“You relentless scoundrels. To think you chased me all the way here.”

He had left his bodyguards behind to buy time to escape from his pursuers. Yet, it seemed they had caught up to him, and his frustration was evident as he spoke.

“What nonsense is this?!”

The Demonic Master was confused when the rotund man made such a ridiculous claim upon seeing him.

Realizing that the man wasn’t one of the pursuers chasing him, Yong Hwarin let out a sigh of relief.

He then tried to lift the horse back up, only to see a dagger embedded deep in the animal’s neck.

“Hey, old man. Why would you kill my horse?”

Although he wasn’t a pursuer, Yong Hwarin found the old man strange enough to question him.

“Follow me.”

“Old man, I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry. I can’t afford to waste time here.”

“I’m in just as much of a hurry. Follow me, or I’ll leave you half-dead.”

Yong Hwarin couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the old man’s words.

The sight of the elder filled him with unease. The tattered clothes and his blood-drenched appearance made him look like a lunatic who had been beaten to a pulp.

Still, this wasn’t the time to argue about appearances.

Glancing nervously behind him, Yong Hwarin said, “Old man, step aside. You look to be in dire straits, but I’m in no position to help you right now.”

The Demonic Master was standing firmly in the middle of the narrow path, blocking the way just enough for the two-horse carriage to barely pass.

Having no other choice, Yong Hwarin attempted to lift the still-living horse to ride it. But the old man approached, grabbed his wrist with a Golden Silk Technique, and flung him aside.

“What the—?!”

Caught off guard by the elder’s unexpected actions, Yong Hwarin was defenseless but managed to perform a mid-air somersault to land safely.

Thud!

Yet his movement techniques weren’t polished, and his landing produced a loud, heavy sound.

Patting the sword hanging by his side, Yong Hwarin said, “Old man, if you don’t want to die, move aside.”

“Let’s see what a pot-bellied swordsman’s blade looks like, shall we?”

Even though the Demonic Master was on the brink of death, he still had enough strength to deal with a straggler like this.

On the other hand, Yong Hwarin was dumbfounded. He thought to himself that if the man was about to die, he should at least die quietly without dragging innocent people into it.

Though his current body was in this state, he had once been praised for his exceptional martial talent in his youth.

He believed a dying old man like this could easily be subdued with a wooden sword.

However, he didn’t have the time to wrestle with an elder at the moment.

“Tsk. If you’re going to die, at least die quietly.”

Irritated, Yong Hwarin grumbled at the Demonic Master and guided his horse along the mountain path. Avoiding the old man was all he needed to do.

-Whish!

But the old man swung his willow staff and lunged at Yong Hwarin. Frustrated, Yong Hwarin blocked the staff three times with the sword in his hand.

“What?”

As he parried the old man’s strikes, he realized there was undeniable internal energy within the blows.

‘A martial artist.’

By the time he noticed this, it was already too late.

The old man’s palm had closed in and struck Yong Hwarin on the temple.

Thwack!

With a single strike, the rotund Yong Hwarin collapsed to the ground.

Thud!

The sound resembled that of a pig hitting the earth.

“If you had just come quietly, I wouldn’t have had to use force.”

The Demonic Master muttered, spitting up a lump of blood that surged from within.

Rousing his inner strength, in his poor physical condition, had unsettled his body.

“Urgh!”

Carrying the unconscious Yong Hwarin over his shoulder, the Demonic Master made his way to the cave he had spotted earlier.

“What on earth does someone eat to get this big?”

The Demonic Master, who had devoted his life to martial arts training, couldn’t fathom how Yong Hwarin had become so massive.

But there was no more time to waste.

Gazing at Yong Hwarin, who lay unconscious, the Demonic Master immediately began the Spirit Possession Technique.

Placing his left hand on Yong Hwarin’s qi center and his right hand on his Crown Point, he infused his left hand with his own True Qi and the culmination of his soul—the essence of his spirit—into his right hand for the transfer.

The Spirit Possession Technique was a technique for seizing another’s body by injecting one’s soul into it.

If a soul were merely placed into a foreign body, it would only result in possession, which often led to failure. The foreign body and the soul would experience dissonance, frequently causing the soul to eject itself.

This limitation was overcome with the Spirit Possession Technique. By planting the qi from the soul’s original body into the new vessel, the soul could adapt to and fully inhabit the new host.

It was like not just planting a branch but transplanting roots as well, ensuring that the flower could bloom properly.

Once the technique was complete, the Demonic Master’s original body lost all vitality, transforming into a mummified corpse.

Meanwhile, Yong Hwarin’s body became enveloped in a radiant light, emanating the Demonic Master’s spiritual energy.  

Who was Demonic Master Seok Jamyung?  

He was a martial artist renowned as the teacher of all demonic practitioners.  

In matters of demonic martial arts, none could compare to him. Even those from Blood Demon Castle, the self-proclaimed leaders of the demonic world, the Sacred Heaven Cult, hailed as the core of demonic forces, and the warriors of Dark Bright Valley, considered the birthplace of demonic practitioners, unhesitatingly addressed him as their master.  

These three factions were collectively known as the Three Demonic Heavens. However, during the Great Martial Battle of Moon and Orthodoxy, the Demonic Master was expelled by the newly restructured leadership of the Three Demonic Heavens. At that time, the Demonic Master had acted as the mediator negotiating with the orthodox sects’ leaders, which led to his eventual ousting.  

The expulsion involved a fierce battle, and in the end, overwhelmed by superior forces, the Demonic Master was forced to flee to an unremarkable mountain.  

Though he managed to escape their inescapable net, even his superhuman strength wasn’t enough to prevent his internal organs from melting in the aftermath.  

Still, the vast inner strength he had accumulated over three lifetimes remained intact. Once transferred, it was potent enough to stir protective qi around Yong Hwarin’s body.  

But then, the radiant light that surrounded Yong Hwarin’s body suddenly turned crimson.  

“Uuurgh!”  

Yong Hwarin’s consciousness was resisting the Demonic Master’s soul.  

‘This… this bastard! He should’ve already been subdued by my True Qi and spiritual energy!’  

The Demonic Master’s True Qi faltered as Yong Hwarin’s consciousness began to push back against his soul.  

If the True Qi and the soul could merge completely, Yong Hwarin’s body would fully become his.  

Despite Yong Hwarin’s rotund frame, the Demonic Master had convinced himself that with a few years of rigorous training, it could be transformed into the body of a martial artist. This belief had soothed his reluctance as he performed the Spirit Possession Technique.  

But Yong Hwarin’s suddenly surging willpower startled him.  

The reason the Demonic Master had been able to accumulate the strength of three lifetimes was due to having successfully transferred bodies twice before through the Spirit Possession Technique.  

However, the technique could not be used indefinitely.  

After three transfers, the soul would begin to dissipate, making this the Demonic Master’s final opportunity.  

It was no wonder he felt such deep frustration.  

For his last transfer, he had hoped to find a young, robust body with excellent potential to extend his life significantly.  

However, given that this was a plump, middle-aged body, it lacked even the basic qualities required of a martial artist.

In a situation where his life hung by a thread, the mere fact that he had managed to find a vessel was fortunate. Yet, the owner of this obese body was actively resisting his soul, and that made the Demonic Master furious.

From Yong Hwarin’s perspective, the situation was just as absurd.

He was someone who couldn’t afford to die.  

As the realization of his impending death struck him, his will to live grew stronger. This fierce determination prevented the Demonic Master’s soul from fully taking over his body.

‘I can’t die like this! I will have my revenge, no matter what!’

Fueled by vengeance and his unyielding will to live, Yong Hwarin’s consciousness pulled in the qi that the Demonic Master’s soul had tried to expel.

As the True Qi, equivalent to a hundred and sixty years’ worth of cultivation, merged with the Demonic Master’s soul, Yong Hwarin’s consciousness began to fade, nearing the brink of annihilation.

Yong Hwarin’s body convulsed violently, flopping around like a freshly caught fish.

Ripples of murderous intent coursed through his body, causing his sagging flesh and belly fat to jiggle uncontrollably.

‘What a tenacious bastard! An ordinary person’s consciousness would’ve been wiped out long ago, but he’s still holding on.’

The Demonic Master had underestimated him. The plump frame and the lack of martial arts training made Yong Hwarin seem like an easy target. But this unyielding resistance suggested that the fat man’s willpower was stronger than that of most martial artists.

‘But your resistance ends here.’

The Demonic Master began channeling True Qi toward Yong Hwarin’s upper dantian to extinguish his consciousness. At that moment, a group of people suddenly entered the cave.

“Ha-ha-ha! So this is where you’ve run off to, huh?”

The Demonic Master turned his gaze toward the cave entrance upon hearing the voice.

At first, he thought it was the Blood Demon Castle pursuers.

‘Huh? Who are these people?’

However, judging by their energy and attire, they weren’t from Blood Demon Castle.

“Why is this guy lying here? He’s still alive, since he’s looking at us.”

“He must’ve been injured when the carriage broke apart.”

From the Demonic Master’s perspective, the newcomers were merely second-rate martial artists, not worth a moment’s consideration.

Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t pose a threat to him. However, in his current state, he couldn’t even lift a finger.

He was still in the middle of performing the Spirit Possession Technique, and Yong Hwarin’s fierce resistance remained the largest obstacle. Because of this, the Demonic Master had no means to defend himself against an attack.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep