Return of the God of War - Chapter 1

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 1: Let Me Take a Step Toward You
Muk Yeojin was born with a gentle nature.
From childhood, he shunned competition and strife, seeking only peace.
Rather than master martial arts, he preferred to compose poetry, paint landscapes, and lose himself in contemplation of scenery.
But…….
“Peace is worthless.”
Now, well past thirty.
Muk Yeojin found himself drowning in regret.
If only he hadn’t squandered his life chasing idle dreams.
Had he drawn a blade even five years earlier—let alone ten—the tide of this accursed war might have turned.
“Damn it.”
Muk Yeojin swallowed the blood rising in his throat as he climbed the steep mountainside.
His entire body was drenched in blood, not a patch of unmarred skin visible—yet his eyes burned with unmistakable clarity.
In his left hand, he gripped a Heavy Sword worn down to jagged edges; in his right, the severed head of a man.
Its identity was unmistakable.
The head of one of the five Yuanyin Cult Masters—demons who had appeared in the Central Plains without warning and begun a reign of bloody terror.
Specifically, the head of the one called the Blood Demon God.
Countless masters had fallen at their hands.
When all hope seemed lost and the struggle had been abandoned, five warriors gathered beneath an ancient plum tree that stood at the peak of Tianlu Peak on Huashan.
Beneath that tree, they shared a cup of wine and parted ways, each to face one of the Cult Masters. Muk Yeojin was now returning to Huashan after claiming his victory.
“Of all places, why did they have to choose somewhere like this?”
Huashan, renowned among the Five Sacred Mountains of the Central Plains for its treacherous slopes.
After four days and nights of brutal combat.
Even at rest, his limbs trembled with exhaustion.
The steep ascent felt impossibly distant through the fog of his weariness.
What should have taken an hour took nearly two as he struggled up the mountainside, until at last the great plum tree came into view, soaring solemnly before him.
As he surveyed the summit, a faint smile crossed his lips.
“Looks like I’m first.”
Among the brothers who had set out to crush the Yuanyin Cult Masters, he had returned ahead of them all.
“If I’d known, I would’ve backed Third Brother’s suggestion to reshuffle the hierarchy based on who returned first.”
Muk Yeojin carelessly tossed the Blood Demon God’s head aside and collapsed against the base of the plum tree, breathing heavily.
How much time had passed?
Eyes closed, feeling the wind drift past, he suddenly caught a subtle fragrance on the breeze.
A familiar scent.
He turned toward it, and there she was.
The woman he’d expected was ascending Tianlu Peak slowly.
She carried on one shoulder a Great Stone Axe so massive it dwarfed a full-grown man, and in her opposite hand, she dragged a broken Black Blade—its steel dark and ashen from hilt to pommel.
Who was she?
The last heir of the Tianmo Sect, which had once ruled the Shiwandashan Mountains before being erased from all maps.
Cheon Hwarin.
She was the eldest sister among Muk Yeojin’s sworn siblings.
Since the war began.
She had wielded that enormous stone axe like a whip, butchering corrupt Yuanyin Cult disciples with such overwhelming dominance that all martial artists—regardless of faction—had given her a title: the Mad Blood Heavenly Empress.
And to prove that fearsome reputation.
She now dragged behind her the Seven Black Blade—the weapon of Black Calamity, a Cult Master ranked a full tier above the others.
The fact that she had slain him too was evident from her grim trophy.
Muk Yeojin let out a short laugh.
“Sister, you never cease to amaze.”
He raised his hand and waved toward her as she approached the plum tree.
“So you’re second, are you?”
Cheon Hwarin turned at the sound of his voice.
“That voice… wait, is that the youngest?”
Her strange reaction made Muk Yeojin go rigid.
She possessed Ki Sense so refined that she could locate an ant within ten miles if she wished.
At this distance, there was no way she shouldn’t have recognized him immediately.
Only then did Muk Yeojin look at her closely.
Her eyes—which should have been sharp and penetrating—were clouded with a murky, ash-gray film.
She was staring in his general direction, but not directly at him.
As if she couldn’t quite see.
As if she were blind.
Her blood vessels had twisted from the excessive use of True Qi, and her eyes had gone dark.
“Hwarin……!”
Thud!
As Muk Yeojin rushed toward her, he caught sight of familiar weapons hanging across her back.
In that instant, his entire body went rigid.
The Iron Mace Glove of Maeng Ak, the Little Palace Master of Namman Yasugung and his sworn brother’s second elder, whose martial name was the Ferocious Peak Lord.
The Plum Flower Divine Sword that his third sworn brother Zhang Ping, Master of the White Tiger Brigade of the Murim Alliance and bearing the title Thousand Blades of Huashan, had treasured so dearly.
The Ten Thousand Ice Fan of Baek Yeomin, Palace Master of the North Sea Ice Palace and his fourth sworn sister, known by the title Snow Radiance Empress.
His sworn siblings—those who had vowed to eradicate all the Yuanyin Cult Master’s forces alongside him and raise their cups together once more in this place.
Their weary faces were nowhere to be seen.
That their weapons hung abandoned across Cheon Hwarin’s back could only mean one thing, and Muk Yeojin could not fail to understand it.
Crack.
He clenched his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.
Muk Yeojin hesitated for a moment, then studied Cheon Hwarin’s condition.
Why did ill premonitions never prove false?
‘Of course…… Hwarin too…….’
As he drew closer and examined her, he saw that her Dantian was completely crushed, and the meridians connecting to her Heart Vein were all snapping one by one.
With injuries of this severity, even a divine physician could do nothing.
The fact that she still drew breath at all was something of a miracle.
Blood seeped from Muk Yeojin’s clenched fists.
‘If only I hadn’t wasted all these years shut away in that corner for such a pathetic reason…….’
Muk Yeojin was one who only took up the sword after passing twenty-five, and only after the Central Plains had become an inferno.
Yet in less than a decade, he had grown formidable enough to vanquish the Blood Demon God.
What if he had devoted himself to martial arts from youth like other warriors?
Might this tragic outcome have been different?
Could he have saved those he had watched slip away so helplessly?
If only he could return to the past…….
For a moment, Muk Yeojin felt a hollow laugh bubble up inside him.
‘What a pointless thing to dwell on.’
He had thought himself quite accustomed to death by now, yet the thought of his sworn siblings departing this world seemed to have weakened his resolve.
Muk Yeojin exhaled deeply and, supporting Cheon Hwarin, spoke.
“It seems Maeng and Zhang have already gone ahead, and now you mean to leave your youngest brother behind?”
Cheon Hwarin’s expression remained calm as she offered a faint smile in return.
“We decided we couldn’t afford the liquor bills that come with your appetite, so we’re going on ahead to share a cup among ourselves first.”
“……Really now, how much do you all think I eat, to be so petty? You’re all meaner than a dog, the lot of you.”
“Maeng did complain to me that you alone emptied the whole stash of wine he’d hidden away in Namman Yasugung one night.”
“Maeng may have the frame of a mountain, but his generosity is the size of a mouse’s tail. The man went running off to confess to you about a few cups.”
The two of them walked slowly to the shade of a plum tree and sat down hard, exchanging such idle jests.
Their words held no sorrow for those who had gone before, nor any regret for one about to depart, nor pity for the one left behind.
It was a farewell known only to these two warriors—those more intimate with the word death than with the word life.
Watching the life slowly fade from her labored breathing, Muk Yeojin gazed at the falling plum blossoms and spoke without affectation.
“I will take the vengeance. Go rest easy, Hwarin.”
At that, Cheon Hwarin looked at him.
“Youngest…… are you not afraid? Surely you could flee if you chose to.”
“Don’t get sentimental on me now…… just do as you’ve done before.”
“Ahem! Give me an answer!”
Muk Yeojin let out a short laugh.
Of course he was afraid.
Now he would have to face those abominations alone—how could he not be afraid?
Succeeding in killing the Blood Demon God had been a miracle in itself.
Yet three monsters remained who were his equal or more.
It was, in truth, a battle with almost no chance of victory.
So why choose to fight?
Honestly, he didn’t quite know himself.
At this point, he wasn’t sure a reason even mattered.
So Muk Yeojin simply spoke whatever came to his mind.
“I’m not the type to swallow my pride.”
In that moment, Cheon Hwarin’s expression shifted to something enigmatic.
Across her face flickered not the emotion of one facing death, but something like a faint, fragile hope.
“You speak the same words again this time…….”
“Hmm?”
“Then I’ll place my last wager on you.”
“What are you talking about…….”
Thump.
Muk Yeojin’s eyes flew wide open.
“Gaaaahhh!!”
He looked down at his chest.
A delicate dagger inscribed with strange patterns had pierced straight through his heart.
Even blind, Cheon Hwarin had ascended to the Highest Realm.
Hearing nothing but the faintest heartbeat was enough to skewer an unguarded opponent’s heart with absolute precision.
Muk Yeojin fixed her with bloodshot eyes.
“Why…… why would you?!”
Perhaps it was the wound of betrayal from the one he’d trusted most—the agony of the pierced chest barely registered.
Why?! Why would you do this to me?
Why at all?
A thousand thoughts churned through his mind in that brief moment.
Sensing his turmoil, Cheon Hwarin let out a hearty laugh.
“Don’t complain—I know from experience that doesn’t actually hurt.”
What kind of nonsense was this?
A blade through his heart, and she claimed it wouldn’t hurt…….
“Wait?”
Why doesn’t it hurt?
Muk Yeojin rolled his eyes in confusion, trying to make sense of things, but the words that followed from Cheon Hwarin made him reel.
“It’s a sacred artifact of the Tianmo Sect. They call it the Sword of Return. It grants two chances—I’ve used one, and I’ve just given you the final one.”
“Return……?”
“I was arrogant. I thought that if given a second chance, I’d surely grow strong enough to sweep away those damned bastards alone—but I wasn’t. It’s a limitation of talent.”
“What do you…….”
Muk Yeojin tried to protest, but an uncanny force erupted from the dagger, enveloping his entire body, and he realized his existence was growing translucent.
“You possess a Martial Talent that surpasses mine, and a strange gift for drawing people to you. I’m wagering my final chance on that mysterious power of yours.”
That’s when it happened.
Boom!!
A catastrophic roar tore through the heavens and earth.
Not one but three monstrosities—each emanating a destructive power that was calamity incarnate—were closing in on them with terrible speed.
Muk Yeojin gasped.
“The Giant Ascending Human, the Nine Wheel Fire Woman, the Shadow Species Ghost!?”
How were they here?
The three remaining Cult Masters were rushing forward, murderous intent radiating from them like a palpable aura.
“Damn it!”
A slender shadow darted past him in that instant.
It was Cheon Hwarin, grasping the Great Stone Axe.
“In my past life, you protected me—so this time, I’ll protect you.”
“Don’t talk nonsense! You can barely stand—run now! I’ll buy us time!”
Muk Yeojin tried desperately to grasp his sword hilt, but his hand passed through it as though it were empty air.
“What…… what is this?”
Cheon Hwarin stood before him like a shield, intercepting the vicious waves of energy from the Yuanyin Cult Masters.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, as though the strain was nearly unbearable, yet her lips were somehow curling upward in what might have been a smile.
“The truth is, I’m one year younger than you. In my past life, I called you brother.”
“Cheon Hwarin!”
In the next instant, a power so overwhelming that even a glancing touch would erase existence itself descended upon them both.
For one brief moment, their eyes met.
Cheon Hwarin was smiling radiantly.
“I trust you to see it through, brother.”
Bang!
With a deafening roar that shook heaven and earth, Tianlu Peak—the highest summit of Huashan—vanished without a trace from this world.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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