SERIES: Returning To The Dark Moon
CHAPTER: 1
Prologue: The Dark Moon’s Return
What are martial arts?
No matter how you dress it up, the fact remains that they are nothing more than a means to kill people.
To die, and to kill.
To kill, and to die.
To say you’ll achieve transcendence by building virtue through the swing of a sword?
What a load of crap. If that were the case, you should be picking up a book to discuss the Dao, not a blade that kills people.
The idea of discussing virtue after taking a life is something that could only come from someone whose brains have been scrambled. Are they truly qualified to lead the world?
No matter how much they cry out amongst themselves about being the Righteous Faction, about how pure they are, the bloodstains on their bodies will never wash away.
The only truly pure people in this world are the common folk, struggling to survive for their wives and children.
The same goes for the people of the martial world.
The term Jianghu (江湖) originally referred to the largest river in the Central Plains, the Yangtze (長江), and the largest lake, Dongting (洞庭湖).
In other words, Jianghu means the world itself.
So how can a bunch of sword-fanatics dare to call themselves the world?
Of course, every one of those self-proclaimed martial artists had their own goals.
For some, it was revenge.
For others, love.
And for those oh-so-noble masters of chivalry, it was justice.
Yeah, right.
Is that why the world was overflowing with so many screams?
What is this “chivalry” (俠義) that those detestable hypocrites preach so fervently?
If they were truly in the right, my father would never have died such a pointless death.
The world was already rotten.
“And so, I decided to destroy it.”
It was a rather sentimental thing to say for a madman who had plunged the world into an abyss.
Baek Cheon, Lord of the Dark Heaven Society.
Ours was an old, ill-fated connection. He was the very man I had crossed swords with for fifteen years since the outbreak of the Shadow Moon War, a conflict started by that unprecedented band of degenerates, the Dark Heaven Society.
My title, the Beggar God, First Under Heaven (天下第一 乞神), had long since faded like the heartless moonlight, and only his name, the Lord of the Dark Heaven Society, First Under Heaven (天下第一 暗天會主), now adorned the deep night sky.
In the short span of fifteen years, the world had fallen.
To this man and his Dark Heaven Society.
It was a laughable affair.
The Nine Great Sects and One Union (九派一幇), who were called immortals walking on clouds, and the Eight Great Families (八代世家), who boasted absolute authority in their domains, had entrusted the fate of the world to a lowly beggar like me.
And a man named Baek Cheon, born the son of a mere farmer, had set this vast world ablaze.
I glanced around unconsciously.
The land was as barren as if struck by famine, all thanks to our three days and nights of battle.
“Beggar, the world you sought to protect has turned to ash. What did you protect? Just what were you thinking that you are so lost in them?”
At the voice from afar, I lifted my heavy head to see he had already closed the distance between us. It was strange to think about it again, but even to me, a man, he was annoyingly handsome.
His hair was as black as ink, his nose as high as a divine sword, and his facial lines were sharp.
How could a man born a beggar live with such injustice? I looked up at him with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“Who knows. I might be thinking of an ultimate technique to slice your head off.”
“If that were possible, the world would now be singing its usual song of sorrow and despair.”
Baek Cheon scoffed, flicking the blood from his jet-black sword.
The Uicheon Sword (倚天劍).
Paired with the Bulmang Saber (不忘刀) also known as the Black Sword and Azure Saber (黑劍靑刀), it was the signature weapon of the Lord of the Dark Heaven Society.
While I have my pristine white sword, lying strewn on the ground, let out a chilling cry, *Kkiiieeeek*, as if to console me.
It was my beloved blade, the Baek Sword (魄劍).
Listening to the Baek Sword’s cry, I stroked its blade with my fingers. After all, to the crazed martial artists of old, a sword was said to be as precious as the wife who’d been with you through thick and thin.
His gaze made my skin tingle. Within his ink-black eyes, whose intentions I could not fathom, I instinctively sensed the end of this godforsaken fight.
Out of habit, I looked up at the sky. A night sky turned pitch black by his martial arts, devoid of stars or a moon.
It wasn't a pleasant sight. The sky had been in that god-awful state throughout the war. From the moment the war began, the concept of daytime had ceased to exist in the world.
All I could do was hang a full moon and stars in the dark night sky. As I wrapped my body in the power of my unique art, Ilgwang Choyawol, the night sky became a sight to behold.
My entire body was a wreck, but I had to fight. Too many deaths rested on my shoulders for me to collapse here.
*Haa.*
With a breath that escaped like a sigh, I muttered quietly.
“You damn sword fanatic bast*rd.”
Feeling a cool breeze tousle my hair, I stepped forward.
*Fwoosh!*
In an instant, I was before him. I stomped hard on the cracked earth and thrust my sword.
But he effortlessly parried my strike with a light swing of his Uicheon Sword.
In a fraction of a second, a long silence fell between Baek Cheon and me. Soon, I felt an immeasurable force emanating from his Uicheon Sword.
A faint smile, that signature sneer of his, touched Baek Cheon’s lips. How could one even call that slight upturn of his lips a smile? It was nothing more than a small twitch.
The absolute ruler who had plunged the world into sorrow. The undisputed strongest under heaven and, paradoxically, the only one who truly understood me, began to move.
In a world turned dark and bleak, a world where everything had vanished, the only thing left whole was the round, full moon.
The achingly cold moonlight shone down on us both.
The Lord of the Dark Heaven Society’s sword began its slow descent.
“Darkness Under Heaven (暗黑天下).”
And then.
All the darkness in the world poured down upon me.
It felt as if a very long time had passed. All sorts of thoughts swept through my mind in an instant. Ah, is this my life flashing before my eyes?
A beggar like me has no need for such a thing. I never had many happy memories to begin with. Therefore, this whole "life flashing before my eyes" business was utterly useless to me.
“You son of a bitch, what are you playing at? Just kill me already, will you?”
With such trivial thoughts, I slowly opened my eyes. Cursing the heavens a little made me feel quite refreshed.
As my vision cleared, the Lord of the Dark Heaven Society came into view once more. He felt even stronger than before.
With but a single step between us, he and I stared at each other in silence.
Of all the people to see me off on my deathbed, it had to be this gloomy bastard. If it had been a woman, I would have gladly received the sword.
With a laugh mixed with bloody phlegm, I could feel my breath fading. I laboriously reached a hand toward him and uttered words that were barely a mumble.
“Hey, Baek Cheon, you got any Nu'er Hong (女兒紅)? It’s my last drink.”
A real man should at least have a drink before he dies. If I drank this and staggered around, it would be the Drunken Fist of the Beggars' Sect.
A moment of silence followed. Baek Cheon stared at me, looking bewildered, likely not having expected me to ask for a drink in this situation.
Soon, he silently stretched his hand toward the empty air. For a moment, space itself seemed to shimmer, and a red wine bottle flew like a beam of light, landing snugly in his hand.
The art of grasping from the void. His ability to handle True Energy had transcended common sense. There couldn't possibly be any wine nearby, so from how far away did he summon it?
To be having thoughts like this right before I die, I must be a martial artist to the bone.
“Hey, Cheon, you idiot. You and I are the only ones left in the world. What are you going to do after you kill me? There’ll be no one to look after you when you’re old and shitting on the walls.”
*Shove!*
“Shut up.”
The Lord, having shoved the Nu'er Hong into my poor mouth, spoke harshly. Is it true that even an ill-fated connection is still a connection? I didn't feel any particular hatred welling up.
The alcohol simply seeped into my ruined body. *You bastard, this is cheap stuff, isn't it?*
To think this would be the final stray thought of the former strongest under heaven.
I let out a deep sigh and slowly blinked. In my fading vision, I saw a golden mandala—no, a Golden Wheel (金輪)—spinning madly.
What in the world was that? Amidst the inexplicable phenomenon, I surrendered my body to the languor of death.
I could see nothing.
It was a dark heaven (暗天).
Warm sunlight trickled down, soft and hazy. As I pushed myself up, clutching my throbbing head, I felt leaves tickling my ankles.
How long has it been since I’ve seen such green? Don’t tell me I died and went to paradise or heaven?
I calmly shook my head. I, the Beggar King, am a man destined for hell. I knew that much about myself.
Barely collecting myself, I looked around, and my eyes were drawn to wine bottles. At a glance, there were more than ten of them.
I clutched my dizzy head. I shook my head at the wavering black silhouette, and someone began to come into focus.
The black robes of the Dark Heaven. A face like a divine sword, an impassive expression.
It was Baek Cheon. It would be more accurate to say he had suddenly manifested. I let out a hollow laugh and met his eyes.
“You died too?”
At my lighthearted question, Baek Cheon’s lips quivered slightly as he gripped the hilt of his Uicheon Sword. It was his way of telling me to stop spouting nonsense.
“What a ridiculous sight. You were like this when the world fell, too.”
The Lord seemed to be enjoying this situation. Accordingly, the morning sky briefly darkened before returning to normal.
It changed according to the emotions of the absolute being named Baek Cheon. During the Shadow Moon War, the sky was always bleak. The world had lost its daytime for fifteen years.
I raised my head and looked at the sky. A scene of clouds moving slowly, yet busily.
“The sky… is blue.”
There were clouds. The sun had shown its face. The world was clear and bright.
I brought my gaze back to the Lord. Even in my weakened state, I couldn't look away.
The Lord and I held each other’s gaze, like children in the market having a staring contest. As I glared at him, he scowled.
Silence fell once more. This is what happens when Baek Cheon and I, two people who don't mesh at all, are together. This is why people who take everything too seriously are so scary.
“How does it feel to be back in the past?”
But Baek Cheon had asked me something else. Returning to the past. It wasn't an unbelievable story. Masters like Baek Cheon and I were capable of performing any number of miracles.
Though that, too, had its limits.
In the end, all I could do was continue to observe Baek Cheon. But I still couldn't fathom his intentions.
The Regressor said no more. As I quietly felt the wind, a familiar voice drifted through the trees...
“Goodness, where did this fellow go? The stench of alcohol is so strong, this must be the place…?”
When I turned, a man with a face full of scars, dressed in rags, was smiling at me. It was Eung-sam, with whom I had a master-disciple relationship when we were young. Even now, what a crappy name.
Still as ugly as ever.
Have I really returned to the past? Four knots dangled from the waist of his filthy rags. It was the mark of a Four-Knot Beggar of the Beggars' Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects and One Union.
I unconsciously touched my own waist, felt the eight knots there, and my expression hardened.
·I’ve really returned? Is that even possible? Is this some strange illusion art of the Regressor’s? That damn bastard.
I shook my head with another sigh. The Baek Cheon I knew wasn't one to use something like illusions.
From one knot to nine. These were the ranks of the Beggars' Sect, the sect of beggars. Eight knots signified the Successor of the Beggars' Sect.
Eung-sam, having met my eyes, scurried over and asked.
“My word, how much did you drink? You stormed off saying you’d quit gambling and then just vanished… I thought you’d been eaten by some monster or ghoul.”
The long, jagged scar along his mouth moved ceaselessly as he spoke. I found myself staring at this old sight before I suddenly turned my head away.
Baek Cheon had already vanished.
How should I deal with this person, Baek Cheon? If he is a regressor, is there any reason for him to burn the world to the ground? If he can just go back to the past anyway, it would all be for nothing.
I mulled over these stray thoughts for a moment...
“…Senior Brother, are you listening to me? Elder Hwa said he’d cut off your hand if I didn’t bring you back!”
The tap of Eung-sam’s hand on my shoulder pulled me from my thoughts.
“Who? Elder Hwa? Hey, that bastard died ages ago.”
“Huh?”
Right, I’m back in the past. Then it’s no surprise that Elder Hwa is still alive.
An incompetent, greedy old man who was ruining the Beggars' Sect. He was also a member of the Dark Sky Society.
It struck me then that I had been given a chance to change that wretched past.
I looked up at the darkening night sky for a moment and patted Eung-sam’s head.
“But the Elder is in his eighties…”
“Does that bastard have no respect for his elders? Who does he think he is, ordering the Successor around? Does he think he’s the Sect Leader?”
“In the Beggars' Sect, only the Sect Leader or the Grand Elder can summon me as they please. Everyone else is beneath me.”
“Eung-sam, shall we head to the training grounds?”
“What about Elder Hwa?”
Right now, the Beggars' Sect is in a bit of a turmoil.
In the end, the Beggars' Sect was the sect I belonged to. I decided my first goal would be to return the pitiful sect to its proper state.
“If he needs me, he can come himself. I outrank him, don’t I?”
“Well, if you say so, Senior Brother…”
I gazed for a moment at the sky, which had grown completely dim. What kind of thoughts must a person have to create such a martial art?
Through what kind of twisted mind does he view the world?
I had no way of knowing. And that was why I intended to find out.
“You’re back, you beggar bastard.”
“I’m back, you Regressor bastard.”
Hearing the Regressor’s heavy voice brush past my ear on the wind, I bared my teeth in a grin.
The boundary where day and night had become entangled by Baek Cheon’s martial art.
I took a single step (一 步) toward that hazy sky.
This step was the beginning of my regression.
Dark Moon Regression
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