Return of the Sword Emperor - 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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Prologue

A man, his body riddled with three sword blades, five arrows, and nine varieties of hidden projectile weapons, dragged himself forward with each labored step.

Gasp. Gasp.

The Dense Forest where visibility stretched no further than a hand’s breadth. A torrential downpour splitting the sky, driving down with vicious force. With every step, his breath came harsh and ragged from his lips, and the blood that had seeped from his body stained the ground a deep crimson.
At last, breaking through the forest, what awaited him was a sea of clouds stretching without horizon.
The man’s eyes blinked dully—and then a bitter laugh escaped the lips of Dok Go Jin.

“Is this… Hwan Yu Valley?”

He had thought himself free of the encirclement, only to discover he had rushed headlong into a death trap of his own making.

“It seems the time to die has truly come.”
Grievously wounded and pursued relentlessly for three days and nights, he had failed to notice he was being driven toward the peak of Hwan Yu Valley—an oversight for which there was no excuse.
Dok Go Jin settled onto a boulder and gazed down into the abyss below.
Though the dense mist obscured the depths from view, he knew far too well the height of that cliff.

“In rain like this, the valley stream would overflow.”

Dok Go Jin’s eyes closed slowly, and a smile bloomed across his face.
The faces of his comrades surfaced unbidden—those who had bathed in the valley waters of Hwan Yu Valley after grueling training, laughing and sharing idle talk.
Many had already fallen during training exercises and missions, but he remembered each face, one by one, with crystalline clarity.
The smile lingering on Dok Go Jin’s face darkened with pain.
Not from the suffering inflicted upon his flesh.
His fingertips had long since ceased to register sensation; the agony of the body was something he had transcended far earlier.
Dok Go Jin withdrew a small ring from his breast.

‘Foolish bastard. I told you to leave.’

His chest tightened when he beheld this memento left behind by the comrade who had freely given his life for him, who had shielded his back until the very end.

……

As the violent downpour wove its concealing veil of sound, Dok Go Jin rose slowly to his feet.
Drawing a deep breath and fixing his gaze ahead, something erupted from the underbrush.
Creatures black as pitch from crown to claw, teeth glinting with sickly radiance, talons hooked and dripping with every poison known—nightmarish beasts.
Dok Go Jin had encountered these savage hounds multiple times while evading his pursuers. Without hesitation, he drew the sword lodged in his left shoulder and swung it in one fluid motion.
With a spine-chilling whisper of displaced air, the blade tore through the rain and carved space itself, sweeping past the necks of the savage hounds that lunged from all sides.
Not a single cry escaped.
Five heads shot skyward as the decapitated bodies of the hounds hurled forward, spraying torrents of blood.
As Dok Go Jin stood drenched in the beasts’ blood, mingled with rain, and grimaced at the metallic stench, the masters of the Demonic Sect Alliance—who had hunted him relentlessly for three days—slowly revealed themselves.

“At last we have you!”

Geom Ma, the Dharma Protector of the Demonic Sect Alliance, let out a booming laugh.
Those who stood shoulder to shoulder with Geom Ma bore expressions equally wild with excitement at the thought that they might finally capture the Demonic Sect Alliance’s most notorious enemy.
Clang! Clang!
Though the savage hounds howled frantically at the scent of their fallen pack-mates, those holding their leashes refused to release them.
These were beasts rumored to tear apart even formidable predators when three gathered together—yet the man before them was a monster who could slaughter dozens, or even hundreds, without blinking an eye.
Tracking Dok Go Jin to this place was enough; the hounds had fulfilled their purpose.

“You cannot fathom how deeply I regretted the deaths of my comrades and subordinates at your hands.”

As Geom Ma’s brow furrowed, the scars etched across his face writhed grotesquely.

“I should have killed you then. Had I severed your breath without mercy, without hesitation—such tragedy might have been prevented.”

Five years ago, on that nightmarish day when the Secret Sword Brigade had been virtually annihilated, Dok Go Jin’s mouth twisted cold as the terrible memory surfaced.

“You showed mercy with your hands? Anyone listening would think you were being magnanimous. Yet you can’t even remember how many lives your blade has taken. Tell me—do you even remember who I was back then?”
“The others don’t matter. What matters is that you were there. Even if I’d spared every last one of them, I should have killed you without question. Then I wouldn’t carry this eternal regret.”

Geom Ma bit his lip until blood came.
That blunder had cost him dearly—he’d lost not only Cheon Ma, the very heavens of the Demonic Sect Alliance, but also the military strategist who was meant to shepherd the Millennium Grand Plan. And in the end, a humiliating truce.

“It’s late, but let’s finish this now.”

With a gesture from Geom Ma, those who had been holding back their rage, waiting only for his command, rushed forward as one.

“Why won’t you face me yourself?”

Dok Go Jin let out a scornful laugh as Geom Ma retreated, and slowly drew up his power.
As he circulated the Return to Origin Divine Art—the same force that had elevated him from a mere member of the Secret Sword Brigade to its leader, earning him the formidable title of Iron-Blooded Sword Emperor—a colossal wave of energy erupted around him like a tempest.

“Come then! I’ll slaughter every last one of you!”

With his arrogant cry, a torrent of sword energy swept the field, and the elite warriors the Demonic Sect Alliance prided itself on fell without mounting any real defense, spraying blood.
Technique upon technique unfolded.
With each stroke of his blade, a tremendous vortex crashed down upon the summit of Hwan Yu Valley like a tidal wave, and the masters of the Demonic Sect Alliance caught within it were torn to shreds.
A murderous glint blazed in Geom Ma’s eyes as he stood back.
Every fiber of him yearned to draw his blade and meet Dok Go Jin head-on, but the unexpected blow he’d taken to his ankle during last night’s pursuit held him rooted in place.

“You must endure. There’s no need for you to enter the fray. We may have signed a truce with the Jeong Mu Alliance, but they’re hardly trustworthy, are they? Your men need to see you still standing if they’re to retreat safely.”

Fearing Geom Ma might throw himself into the battle, Tal Hon Geom seized his arm.

……
“I’m asking you.”

At Tal Hon Geom’s repeated plea, Geom Ma nodded, his expression turning bitter.

“A truly humiliating day.”

Any true martial master with hot blood in his veins should have drawn steel without hesitation, but to avoid battle under any pretext—that was nothing but cowardly rationalization.
Clang!
With a sharp metallic shriek, the blade in Dok Go Jin’s hand shattered into fragments that swept across the field.
The hundreds of shards tore through the Demonic Sect Alliance’s warriors, who collapsed without even managing a proper response.
More than thirty men fell in that single stroke, yet far more enemies remained.

“You bastard!”

Naeng Hon Gaek, the Dharma Protector, yanked a shard from his eye and charged forward, and as if answering his call, enemies surged from all sides.
Dok Go Jin exhaled sharply and swept his left hand.
Tucked against his right ribs and left thigh were small hidden projectile weapons.
Whistle!
With that subtle cutting sound, the enemies who had rushed in from Dok Go Jin’s left fell without resistance.
Using the hidden projectile weapons lodged in his ribs and thigh to drop his foes, Dok Go Jin drew a blade that was buried deep in his right shoulder.
Blood fountained through the wound, drenching his entire body.
Transformed into a figure of blood, Dok Go Jin gently rotated his blade as if gathering the drops, then flung them toward his enemies.
Each drop of blood, infused with Dok Go Jin’s formidable internal force, was as devastating as a lethal hidden projectile.

“Argh!”

Naeng Hon Gaek, who had been attacking with such momentum, let his gaze fall as if unable to believe what was happening.
Even though he had hastily deployed the Protective Qi Technique to shield himself, countless holes had been punched through his chest.
Thought could not continue.
Dok Go Jin had rushed in like lightning and severed his neck.

“Come at me! All of you!”

The roar of a wounded beast.
Dok Go Jin erupted with a terrible roar, and a murderous aura poured from every inch of his being.
A killing intent so overwhelming it defied mortal measure descended upon the peak of Hwan Yu Valley, and the strikes of the Carefree Eighteen Swords, imbued with the Internal Force of the Return to Origin Divine Art, laid waste to everything around him with unprecedented ferocity.
The Demonic Sect Alliance’s elite were so formidable that a mere dozen of them could obliterate the full strength of most martial schools without trace—yet not one among them could withstand Dok Go Jin’s assault.
East flashed bright, west flashed bright.
With each dance of Dok Go Jin’s blade, enemies crumbled with agonized screams, and the once-solid encirclement trembled precariously.
Yet the encirclement held.
Before such overwhelming, inhuman force, the Demonic Sect Alliance’s Martial Masters refused to yield.
Using their seniors’ corpses, their juniors’ corpses, their comrades’ corpses as shields, they fought on until the end.
They threw away their lives hunting for any opening in Dok Go Jin’s defense, and when one fell, the next would sacrifice himself to create an opportunity for his brothers.
How many died in that crucible, none could say. But from that ocean of sacrifice, one man seized his chance at last.
Gan Jong—known throughout the Demonic Sect Alliance as the most skilled executioner of the blade, the Thousand-Life Slayer.
Slice!
Approaching like mist, he tore the sword-bearing arm clean from Dok Go Jin’s body, and a cruel smile bloomed across Gan Jong’s lips.

“It’s finished!”

The smile did not last long.

“What?!”

Bewilderment tore from Gan Jong’s throat.
The staggering, one-armed Dok Go Jin suddenly drove forward at terrifying speed.
Gan Jong swung his blade in desperation to retreat, but Dok Go Jin caught the sword on his shoulder and pinned the man’s retreating foot to the ground.

“Die!”

Gan Jong, teeth gritted, drew a Hidden Blade from nowhere and drove it at Dok Go Jin’s throat—but it slipped past, grazing only his cheek.
Missing by the thinnest margin, Dok Go Jin snapped his forehead forward and smashed it into Gan Jong’s face.

“Argh!”

With cheekbone and nasal bone caved in, Gan Jong collapsed where he stood.
As enemies rushed to save their comrade, Dok Go Jin’s left hand drove toward his chest.
He drew the Short Dagger buried deep in his ribs—the one he had left there, never withdrawing—and a torrent of blood, richer and darker than anything before, erupted forth.
With the Short Dagger, Dok Go Jin opened Gan Jong’s throat, then hurled himself at the surging enemies.
But his Internal Force was spent. His Qi Reserve was empty. And the blood pouring from his chest allowed him no more time.

“Kagh!”

Taking a blow, stumbling, Dok Go Jin coughed up a dark clot of blood with a sharp cry.
The Short Dagger slipped from his grip.
Nothing remained in his hands.
Every weapon and Hidden Projectile Weapon embedded in his body had already been spent severing his enemies’ lives.

“Is this… where it ends?”

Driven to the cliff’s edge, Dok Go Jin let his last arm fall limp and murmured to himself.
Even facing their enemy’s final moments, the Demonic Sect Alliance’s Martial Masters could not smile.
How many masters had Dok Go Jin sent to their graves?
Even Cheon Ma, the sky itself of the Demonic Sect Alliance, had fallen. Without the Jeong Mu Alliance’s aid in disposing of Dok Go Jin like a worn tool, this moment would never have come to pass.

‘He must die.’
‘It must end here.’

All of them—every mind was united as one.
Those surrounding Dok Go Jin began closing in, step by step.
The enemies drew within arm’s reach, yet Dok Go Jin remained motionless. He simply stared upward at the sky, his eyes distant and vacant.
The rain had stopped. In the sunlight breaking through the heavy clouds, the faces of his family came flooding back to him.

‘I’m sorry. I cannot keep my promise to return.’

As Dok Go Jin took a step backward, the others cried out in confusion.

“Is he running away?”
“Running?”

Dok Go Jin surveyed his enemies with an arrogant smile.

“Pigs can see nothing but what a pig sees. Think what you will.”

A low chuckle escaped him as Dok Go Jin slowly cast himself into Hwan Yu Valley.
Sword Return Chronicles

Author: Jo Don Hyung
Publisher: Seo Gyeong Seok

E-book Publication Date: 2026-06-25

Publishing House: Cheongeoran Publishing

Registration Number: No. 387-1999-000006

Address: 404 Hansin IT Tower, 272 Digital-ro, Guro-gu, Seoul, South Korea (Postal Code) 08389
Telephone: 02-6956-0531

This e-book has been published by Cheongeoran Publishing in accordance with a contract with the copyright holder. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and sharing are prohibited.

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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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