Thus, the long and arduous Holy Demon War also came to an end.
The hellish years that had dragged on for years finally came to a close with the death of the Demon of Heaven.
Many rejoiced and celebrated the defeat of the Demon Sect, believing that peace had finally been restored.
However, what remained after the war was not just a sense of relief and peace.
Two of the Nine Great Sects that supported the righteous martial world were burned to the ground, and one of the Four Great Families had fallen.
Among the countless martial artists in the Central Plains, the three revered experts of the Heavenly Outer Heavens were all killed by the Demon of Heaven.
Although they succeeded in eradicating the Demon Sect by killing the Demon of Heaven, the war was still one filled with immense losses.
So much had been lost.
No one knew how long it would take to restore what had been scattered and destroyed to its original state.
Still.
Even though much had been reduced to ashes, it was not a world of despair.
Somewhere, hope would bloom, and heroes who would overcome the crisis and carry on the legacy of righteousness would gradually emerge.
Only.
It was none of my concern.
"Where are you?"
The woman murmured in a soft voice.
She stood in a torture chamber beneath the Martial Alliance headquarters.
Her figure appeared unusually slender, with fair and delicate skin.
Her disheveled hair, a result of repeated hardships, was tied back with effort, making her look somewhat haggard.
Yet, her features were so noble that even this did not detract from her beauty.
Even as the world decayed and fractured, she seemed to shine alone.
Who would have known?
That this delicate and beautiful woman would be the one to sever the neck of the Demon of Heaven, a calamity incarnate.
No one would have guessed that a girl once called a promising young talent would become the greatest martial artist in the land.
Wei Xueya, the Divine Sword.
A direct disciple of the Sword Sage, who was killed by the Demon of Heaven, and the woman now known as the greatest martial artist after the Holy Demon War.
That a woman who had just turned twenty had reached such a position was not simply due to the absence of the Three Revered Ones in the current era.
With a single, casual swing of her sword, she could cause natural disasters and decapitate hundreds of demons with a single strike.
In the final battle against the Demon of Heaven, after three days and nights of intense combat, she not only killed the Demon of Heaven but also erased the Demon Sect from the map.
Everyone in the martial world knew that she had earned the arrogant title of the greatest martial artist through her own strength.
And now, she was speaking to me.
"Where are you?"
Her clothes, blurred by the blood from the torture, came into view.
The white martial robe, which must have been white, was now blackened with ash, as if she had been crawling through the dirt.
She seemed to be waiting for my answer, but with my vocal cords destroyed, I could not speak.
Wei Xueya must know this.
Yet, she persists, perhaps out of frustration.
"Surely you know where the remaining demons have gone."
I knew.
Not only did I know, but I also wanted to tell her.
"If you have any last shred of conscience…"
Wei Xueya, unable to get a response from me, hopes I will write or draw the information.
As evidence, the shackles that once bound me had long been removed.
Even though it was dangerous to release a prisoner's restraints.
Of course, I could not even scratch her, let alone harm her, who had killed the Demon of Heaven, called a god.
But even if she wanted it and my heart was willing, there was nothing I could do.
The shackles on me were of a different kind.
Thus, I only stared at the ground, feeling empty, as Wei Xueya spoke.
*Crack*
The sound of her hand clenching tightly could be heard.
"This is your last chance. Everyone wants you dead, but if you help me this one time, I swear on everything I have that I will spare your life."
The war is over, and she is now celebrated as the greatest martial artist.
"...So please."
She was pleading with me so desperately.
Hatred for the lost demons? A desire for revenge?
Of course, these were not absent, but there was something more important.
'It must be because of the Meteor Sword.'
The relationship between the Meteor Sword Zhang Xianyan and Wei Xueya was well-known in the Central Plains.
He was a promising sword master and a righteous hero, engaged to Wei Xueya.
And the rumor was that Zhang Xianyan had gone missing and was believed to have been kidnapped by the demons.
Is that why she is acting this way?
The strongest woman, who is usually so strong, is so anxious over a single man.
"So tell me. Where are they hiding?"
Wei Xueya glares at me with fiery eyes.
Suddenly, it seemed absurd.
In the past, our relationship was not this broken.
Where did it all go wrong? There is no end to it. Perhaps it was all my karma, and it is not worth recalling.
I am just a despicable traitor who betrayed everyone and became a demon.
She is the hero who lifted and supported everyone.
With no reaction from me, Wei Xueya seemed to give up and threw me aside.
I hit the rough stone wall, but felt no pain.
My body was already broken beyond repair.
"If I had known you were such a despicable person, I would have killed you the moment I first saw you."
I deeply regret that.
The quiet whisper that followed was particularly loud in my ears.
The moment I first saw her.
When did Wei Xueya remember that moment?
It would likely be very different from what I remember.
Or perhaps she didn't even give it much thought, as it was just a fleeting moment in the past.
To her, it was probably a meaningless memory.
To me, it was a significant memory among the many regrets, big and small.
Buried deep in the fragments of the past.
What was it that brought me to this point?
*Click*
Wei Xueya, about to leave and close the iron door, stopped at the sound of movement.
Turning her head, she saw me, my broken body trembling.
Wei Xueya's cold gaze wavered.
I was writing something on the ground with my trembling hand, using blood as ink.
With each stroke, blood gushed from my mouth.
The curse on me was clear.
A simple condition: "Do not betray the Demon Sect," bound my life.
I had seen countless people die from this curse, from mere third-rate martial artists to those at the peak of their power.
Even the Demon of Heaven, who was killed, could not break this curse.
Perhaps Wei Xueya, who killed the Demon of Heaven, could break it, but it would make no difference now.
I was just curious.
Was my heart holding on through sheer willpower, or was it a miracle?
It was all futile, but...
"What... the..."
Wei Xueya, rushing over, seemed to be saying something, but her voice was muffled.
Ignoring her, I continued.
Judging by her not stopping me, she must also want this.
If I claim it was a frame-up, that it wasn't my will, would she believe me?
Of course not.
There are many excuses I could make—reasons and justifications—but there was no emotion left to gather at this point.
Ignoring the heart that felt like it would burst at any moment, I painstakingly wrote line by line.
Blood trickled down my chin with each stroke.
Wei Xueya, sensing something was wrong, reached out to me, but I was faster.
As I finished the last line, my heart burst with a *thud*.
On the ground, the information about where the demons were hiding and a few other details were written.
Staggering, I fell, and Wei Xueya caught me.
She must have been worried about the writing on the ground being damaged.
Wei Xueya looked at me with shock. My body was growing cold, and consciousness was fading.
It was a complete mess.
Why did I live such a life?
No matter the reason, it was never important. It was just the way it was.
Ouyang Chuan of the Shangshu Family.
Born into a righteous family, lived as a righteous person, and then betrayed to become a demon.
Captured and tortured after the Holy Demon War, and died.
A few lines would be enough to describe my life.
What a pitiful life.
And now, even that pitiful life was over.
"Want a potato?"
"Huh?"
It should have been like that.
Chapter 1: The Young Master of the Family (1)
The young master of the family. 1
What is happening? How should I interpret this?
I am in the middle of a bustling market.
Slowly lifting my head, I looked at the sky.
The sun, visible in a cloudless sky, made me squint.
The sun, which I hadn't seen in a long time, was blinding. The crowds and many street vendors caught my eye.
Somewhere, steamed buns were being made, and the steam and delicious smell filled the air.
The vendors' loud voices and the small chatter of the crowd, enjoying the scene, mixed together, making it even louder.
The market in the area where I lived as a child was exactly like this. How long has it been since I saw such a lively market? It must have been at least ten years.
'Is this a dream?'
I was clearly dead, my heart bursting.
So, what is this situation? Is it a brief illusion shown after death? Did I secretly yearn for such a peaceful past?
Perhaps, because my life was so miserable, I yearned for such an ordinary life.
"Funny."
I was startled by the words that came out. I couldn't speak after my throat was damaged, so it was natural.
But that wasn't the only reason I was surprised.
The voice was thin and high, like that of a young boy. Only then did I notice my hand, unscarred and pale, was not that of an adult male.
My field of vision also felt at least a hand's breadth lower than usual. I was clearly in a child's body.
"Is this a memory from my childhood?"
If so, when was it? I rarely came to the market so freely.
Looking around, I saw a young man with a worried expression, scanning the surroundings.
If my memory serves, he was my bodyguard.
And, this was the first time I met that child, sneaking out like this.
Wandering through the market, I accidentally met a child.
He approached me, excitedly greeting me as if we had just met, and offered me a basket filled with hot potatoes, larger than his head.
"Want a potato?"
Just like now.
"Huh?"
What did I say back then?
'Who do you think I am, offering me such a thing?'
That was probably my response. Or maybe I said something even worse. I don't know if it was the child's shabby clothes or the potatoes that bothered me.
In fact, I was just immature and rude. What more excuse did I need?
If I had known who that child was, if I had known the future, would I have acted differently?
I'm not sure. I was that reckless and immature.
"...Eh... Erm... Do you... dislike potatoes?"
The child, noticing my lack of response, hesitated and looked at me.
His clothes were covered in dirt from rolling around, and his unkempt hair, which he hadn't bothered to tidy, covered his face.
He looked like a child from a beggar's den. I chuckled at the sight.
"Seeing this, did I have many regrets?"
"Uh?"
The child tilted his head at my muttered words.
Can such an illusion erase my regrets?
'Of course not.'
Still, I took a potato from the basket the child was holding. The child beamed at the sight.
One of his front teeth was missing, leaving a hole where it should have been.
Looking at the child's smile, I said,
"Thank you, I'll enjoy it."
It was clearly a different response from what I said back then.
"Yay...! These were picked by our grandpa!"
He enthusiastically answered, taking a potato from the basket and biting into it.
I followed suit and took a bite of the potato.
The problem was that the potato was steaming hot.
It was a strange sensation.
'It's a dream, yet it's hot?'
Is that possible? Or is it just an unusually realistic dream? I couldn't do anything with the scalding potato.
"Ahaha! Your face is red!"
The child found my flailing amusing and laughed. He seemed unaffected by the heat of the potato he was eating.
After a while, I managed to swallow the potato despite the pain.
"Is it good?"
"Uh... It's good."
It wasn't a lie. The potato was indeed delicious.
I don't know why, but the potato in the dream was delicious.
As I ate the remaining potato, I noticed the young man who seemed to be my bodyguard approaching.
"Master...?"
The bodyguard frowned at the child standing in front of me and naturally placed his left hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Who dares to...?"
"Do you have any sweets?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you have any sweets?"
I interrupted, and he looked bewildered.
Out of the blue, asking the bodyguard if he had any sweets? Surprisingly, he did.
With a reluctant expression, the bodyguard took out some sweets he had wrapped and handed them to me.
"Do you want to eat this?"
I gave the sweets to the child.
I couldn't see his expression under the hair covering his face, but I could tell he was surprised.
"R-Really? You're giving them to me!?"
"You gave me delicious potatoes, and this is all I have to give."
In my childhood, I had a sweet tooth. That's why the bodyguard would often pacify me with sweets when I was misbehaving.
The bodyguard must have felt frustrated and miserable, having to carry sweets to guard me.
'Thinking about it now, it was quite a sorry state.'
Ignoring my thoughts, the child took the sweets and jumped around.
He was worried that the potatoes in the basket he was holding would fall out as he jumped.
"Thank you! I've never eaten anything like this before!"
"Really? Do you have any more sweets?"
"...That was the last one."
I asked if he had more, hoping to give more, but unfortunately, it was the last one.
The bodyguard was looking at me with a surprised expression, probably finding my behavior strange.
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing, Master."
The child, who had been holding the basket, now placed it on the ground and carefully took a bite of the sweet, worried it might fall.
As he bit into the sweet, his small shoulders trembled.
"You, it's so delicious..."
"I'm sorry, I wish I could give you more, but that was the last one."
He nodded vigorously.
Was he okay with it, or was he disappointed?
The child, who had eaten a large potato in no time, finished the sweet in a few bites.
His eyes were slightly teary, perhaps missing the sweetness.
"I've never eaten anything like this..."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
The child picked up the basket and ate the potato again, but his face wasn't as satisfied as before.
Had he already gotten used to the sweetness?
The child fidgeted and asked,
"Thank you. What's your name?"
Unlike when he offered me the large potato, he seemed shy now.
Was asking for a name more embarrassing?
"Ouyang Chuan, my name is Ouyang Chuan."
I spoke my name clearly. It was the first time I had said it in a long while.
"Ouyang Chuan..."
The child smiled shyly after hearing my name. He then hesitated, as if trying to say something.
Suddenly, an old man pushed through the crowd and embraced the child.
"Weiya!"
"Ah, Grandpa!"
"I told you not to wander around without permission!"
The child, who should have been surprised, instead snuggled into the old man's embrace.
Then, he smiled brightly at the old man, who was about to scold him.
"I'm fine, Grandpa! I got the potatoes!"
The child proudly showed the old man the basket he had been holding.
The old man, still holding the child, looked at me with trembling eyes, as if scared.
Perhaps because of his neat clothes, which didn't fit the surroundings, he seemed worried about offending the young master of a noble family.
The old man spoke in a trembling voice.
"My granddaughter is still naive... I hope she didn't offend you in any way..."