The morning sun crept over the jagged peaks of the Eastern Black Mountains, casting a golden hue on the scarred battlefield below. The remnants of broken blades and shattered armor glinted under the light, mute witnesses to the bloodshed that had soaked the soil the day before. But among the quiet hum of awakening nature stood a single figure—calm, tall, and terrifyingly serene.
Jin Mu-Won.
Reborn from death. Forged by vengeance. Crowned by fate.
His robes fluttered softly in the breeze, stained by blood that wasn't his. Around him, disciples of the Heavenly Dragon Sect lay groaning, unconscious, or utterly defeated. What had started as a simple reconnaissance mission had transformed into a clash that shattered the pride of one of the Ten Great Sects.
And Jin had won. Alone.
He exhaled deeply, and with it, the last traces of rage from the battle faded. The Heaven-Breaking Sword rested on his back, humming faintly with spiritual energy. The weapon was no longer just a blade—it was an extension of his very soul.
Just as he turned to leave, a presence approached.
"You didn't have to annihilate them all, Jin."
The voice was light, teasing—yet carried an unmistakable undercurrent of power. From the forest edge, a familiar figure stepped into view.
Lian Mei, the White Lotus of the Southern Ice Valley.
Her long silver hair flowed freely over her shoulders, her icy blue eyes fixed on him with curiosity and amusement. She was one of the rare prodigies Jin had recruited during his journey, and now a proud member of his growing harem.
"They attacked first. I just answered," Jin said evenly, his expression unreadable.
"Yes, yes," she smirked. "But you always make it look so easy. That's what's scary."
He shrugged. "Maybe they were just weak."
"Or maybe you're just a monster," another voice added with a playful tone.
From above, a figure leaped down—a girl in crimson, dual daggers strapped to her thighs. Her name was Yun Hara, the Crimson Shadow of the Misty Vale, known for her unmatched agility and stealth techniques.
Jin arched a brow. "You two followed me?"
"We're your women. We don't 'follow'—we stand with you," Yun Hara said with a wink.
Lian Mei nodded. "And besides, if we didn't show up, you'd have killed every sect on the continent by yourself."
Jin chuckled softly. For a man who was once alone in two lifetimes, this warmth was unfamiliar. But he didn't hate it.
They began walking together, heading toward the valley base where their forces were stationed.
As they arrived, Jin was greeted by dozens of martial artists—disciples and masters who had pledged their loyalty to him. Former enemies, wandering swordsmen, mystic cultivators—all bound together by Jin's charisma, strength, and vision for a new world.
But one man among them stood out.
Tall, with sun-kissed skin, golden eyes that shimmered with mockery, and an aura that reeked of power barely concealed beneath a veneer of nonchalance.
"Ah, the famous Jin Mu-Won," he said, stepping forward. "The man who defeats sects like a farmer harvesting wheat. You live up to the rumors."
Jin's gaze narrowed. "And you are?"
The man bowed slightly. "Ryo Sen. Former prince of the Fallen Sky Empire. Current master of the Thunderstorm Blade Arts. And possibly your greatest rival."
The air shifted.
A faint crackle of lightning danced around Ryo Sen's form. He wasn't bluffing—his cultivation base was high, nearly matching Jin's.
Jin's lips twitched into a rare smile. "Rival, huh? Let's see if you live up to your rumors."
"Gladly," Ryo replied, drawing a curved blade from his back, thunder echoing faintly in the distance.
The two faced each other, surrounded by dozens of observers who held their breath.
Then—they moved.
Their blades clashed mid-air, shockwaves rippling outward. Jin's sword slashed with divine precision, while Ryo's blade cracked with fury and unpredictability.
In ten exchanges, they shattered nearby boulders. In twenty, the ground beneath them split open. In thirty, they both leapt back, landing gracefully, evenly matched.
Jin wiped a drop of blood from his cheek. Ryo's blade had grazed him.
"Well," Jin muttered, "that's new."
Ryo grinned. "You're not invincible. Not to me."
For the first time in many chapters, Jin felt the rush of genuine excitement. A true rival. Not someone to destroy, but someone to push him further.
"Good," Jin said. "I needed someone like you."
From the side, Yun Hara and Lian Mei exchanged knowing looks.
"He's enjoying this," Mei whispered.
"He always enjoys things that challenge him," Hara replied, grinning.
That evening, Jin stood atop the cliff overlooking the valley. Fires burned below, lighting up the camp. Soldiers trained. Harem members shared stories and laughter. And his newest ally—and rival—sat alone in meditation, replenishing his energy.
A lot had changed.
He had returned to life with only vengeance in his heart. Now, he had companions, a growing force, and a rival who refused to yield.
But darkness loomed.
The whispers of the Immortal Heaven Sect—the most secretive and dangerous of them all—grew louder with every passing day. And deep in the frozen north, something stirred. An ancient evil, once sealed by the Four Heavenly Monarchs, was beginning to awaken.
Jin's journey was far from over.
It had only just begun.