Chapter 1: Chapter 1

[Over a thousand years had passed since the Central Plains were unified as one.

That meant it had also been well over a millennium since the iron-fisted rule of successive Emperors, exerted through transcendent martial arts and the mighty Imperial Army, had established itself in this land. It was also more than enough time for the descendants of heroes who had once risen for the suffering people and the world to become drunk on power and strength, falling into corruption.

The noble intent of Emperor Gaozu, who had founded a new empire to put an end to First Emperor Shi’s tyranny, was already so soaked in the blood of the common folk and the nauseating sweat and greed of the privileged that its original form was unrecognizable.

The Empire, ruled by an absolute Emperor who tolerated no dissent and an Imperial Army that blindly followed his will, had sucked countless amounts of blood over the long centuries, turning into an unbearable monster. Based on formidable imperial authority, seamlessly paved roads and bloated cities sparkled brilliantly at night as if dragging the stars down from the sky, yet in the mire beneath those towering buildings, the sticky blood and tears of starving citizens, along with the pus flowing from flayed skin, turned the mud foul and sticky.

Unable to watch this any longer, numerous eccentric masters, martial artists, chivalrous heroes, and men of noble intent took up arms and rose in rebellion, perhaps a natural outcome for subjects of the Empire who had grown up listening to the myth of Gaozu founding the realm.

Yet among those countless chivalrous heroes, not a single one managed to crush the Emperor and the Imperial Army.

That, too, might have been only natural. It was hardly possible for the Imperial Army, who had learned peerless martial arts under the full backing of a nation, and the Emperor, who was bred to be the strongest among them, to lose against those who holed up in some mountain valley practicing ancient martial arts alone or in groups of three or four.

Even if powerless peasants gathered to raise an army a million strong, a mere ten thousand Imperial soldiers charging in and swinging their blades ten times would inevitably sweep them all away. Naturally, the purpose of practicing martial arts among the sects of the Central Plains gradually degraded into training to join the Imperial Army or catching the Emperor’s eye.

In the end, the countless subjects of the Empire were exploited by wealthy merchants and power-hungry corrupt officials, living and dying on this earth without ever owning a single plot of farmland or a single room for a workshop until the day they were laid in shallow graves. They became mere tiny cogs in the Empire, devoting their entire lives to fattening the bellies of those seated above them.

Thus, during those desperate days that made one wonder if this was another manifestation of hell, one fateful day arrived.

A new land was discovered.

It was a land reached by sailing across the vast eastern ocean aboard giant galleons for dozens of days. It was an immense land mass of sprawling plains and forests, high mountains and deep valleys, indifferent wilderness and grandly flowing rivers. Furthermore, there were plants and animals largely similar to those of the Central Plains, as well as demons and humans that were not much different either.

The current Emperor, who had just ascended the throne at the time, was surprised when the exploration project his predecessor had backed out of idle curiosity actually succeeded, but that was all.

According to the records of someone present at the time, when the Emperor viewed the flora and fauna of the New Continent brought back by the expedition, the indigenous people who differed slightly from the Imperial subjects, and the gold and silver, he appeared thoroughly indifferent.

That was a demeanor fitting for the iron-blooded Emperor of an Empire that had endured for over a millennium and grew stronger with each passing day.

Yet perhaps that indifference was not his true inner mind, for soon bountiful treasures and new galleons were bestowed upon the explorers of the New Continent, along with an order to establish a stable sea route between the Empire and the New Continent.

Receiving the Emperor’s full backing, even if it was merely an amusement to him, the expedition team and shipbuilding industry rapidly charted the routes and completed the maps. Riding the massive ships along those established sea lanes, countless Imperial subjects began crossing the ocean.

The natives of the New Continent had formed group sizes no larger than tribes of slightly over a hundred at most. Moreover, they did not engage in extensive agriculture. Naturally, unowned land abounded, and in the eyes of the Empire’s subjects, it seemed like the sole opportunity to escape the clutches of cruel corrupt officials and cold-hearted magnates to own land of their own.

As millions of subjects crossed the sea over the span of several decades, far from stopping them, the Emperor created a fleet under the imperial household to compete with merchant ships and transport people. Furthermore, he issued an imperial decree declaring that whatever land one cultivated with their own hands in that new realm would belong to that subject.

In this writer’s opinion, the Emperor likely surmised that even if a handful of subjects out of the Empire’s hundreds of millions crossed the ocean, it would pose no problem. In fact, he might have secretly rejoiced, knowing that the populace would clear the fields on their own without wasting the imperial court’s resources to develop new land.

And then, decades later, near the end of his reign or in the generation of his son, once that land had ripened, he would surely send his atrocious Imperial Army to swallow it all up.

But there was something even the iron-blooded Emperor and his Imperial Army failed to foresee.

It was the fact that helpless peasants were not the only ones crossing the sea.

Chivalrous heroes who had barely kept their traditions alive in the shadows away from the Imperial Army’s gaze; eccentric recluses hiding in deep mountains and valleys awaiting their chance; ancient royal lineages thought to have perished; and those who had bided their time while hiding in the shadow of imperial power, all crossed the sea dreaming of a new dynasty and a new world.

Of course, righteous men were not the only ones who crossed the ocean.

Criminals who committed offenses in the city darks, petty opportunists hoping to strike it rich in the New Continent, mad demonic practitioners who cultivated wicked demonic arts, and all manner of evil and selfish individuals crossed the ocean as well.

Scholars back then worried that all these people gathering in one place would explode like water poured into boiling oil. They presumed that a tragedy resulting in countless lost lives would unfold.

Yet that turned out to be nothing more than groundless concern. In this writer’s view, while there were several reasons, the biggest factor was that the New Continent was vast, and compared to its breadth, the population was sparse.

…I am aware that observing the present state of affairs, many scholars are pouring out as many books and writings as their numbers. Upon that, I wish to weave and present a single strand of my own humble thoughts.

It is that the Emperor’s intention to devour this land will fail.

More than a millennium ago, under the principle of Non-Transmission to the Unworthy, martial arts were not taught unless one possessed proper character and destined affinity. Thus, those who rose up during the turbulent Warring States Period and against First Emperor Shi Huang’s tyranny were mostly chivalrous heroes.

However, the state of the Empire established after Gaozu defeated First Emperor Shi and Overlord Xiang Yu was far too different from what the chivalrous heroes had hoped for, and unable to gather strength under the mighty power and surveillance of the Empire, they had to wander endlessly in the shadows.

But this place was different. This new land, far removed from the Empire, the Emperor, and the Imperial Army, was different.

This land, which would overflow with chivalrous heroes and villains, righteous men and demonic practitioners, was, if I may dare to speak, a return to the ancient Martial World of a thousand years ago.

Countless beliefs, intentions, selfishness, greed, and every martial art under heaven will clash to enforce their respective wills. The sparks and sweat flying from that struggle will turn into the vital energy of a new Martial World, squirming to life, and contrary to the Emperor’s expectations, it will forge a tough, unyielding body.

Free from imperial oppression, the struggle waged solely for each martial artist’s beliefs will materialize into ancient romance, kindling flames within their hearts.

Thus, the ember of Martial World, reignited across a span of a thousand years, will not be easily extinguished by the power of the Emperor and the Imperial Army across the sea…]

The remaining contents of the book were soaked in blood and unreadable.

“How old is this story?”

Crouching down, the man flipping through the book fluttered it aimlessly a couple of times before dropping it onto the ground. The book fell onto the chest of a corpse lying face-up. Thanks to the wide open wound on the chest, the remaining intact portion of the book began slowly soaking in blood as well.

“And what romance, old man? True romance is lying in a cozy bed at home, munching on snacks while reading a Wuxia novel. That guy Liu Bang’s country was supposed to last about five hundred years, and the sole reason it passed a millennium was precisely because of Martial World and martial arts, so why go looking for romance in that?”

Pitching a dry rebuke at the dead, the man stretched the corners of his lips in a grimace and turned his head. Then he squinted against the reddish sunset light that pricked his eyes.

Over the vast plain tracing a long horizon, the setting sun cast the last rays of the day. Wispy clouds stretched wide over the plain, clearly divided into areas catching the sunset and those that did not, boasting their colorful variety.

And the same was true for the corpses surrounding the man.

Around seven or eight corpses, men, women, and the elderly, lay scattered in wild disarray, each bearing a gaping wound somewhere on their bodies. A wagon with a broken wheel lay tilted on its side; judging by the messy clutter of pulled-out luggage and the absence of horse carcasses, it appeared to have been raided by bandits.

Crouched down, the man looked at the cooling corpses with eyes as slanted as the tilted wagon before slowly standing up. His gaze drifted toward the clothing strewn messily around the wagon. He rummaged through them hoping to find something useful, but ultimately gained nothing. Yet among them, he noticed a few clothes small enough for a young child to wear.

Since there were no children among the corpses lying here, the bandits had likely captured them. They would either raise them to be bandits like themselves or sell them off at a cheap price.

“…What a shame.”

Muttering to himself, the man donned the conical bamboo hat he held in his left hand, spat lightly, and let out a short whistle. At that, his horse Jojo, standing a short distance away, sauntered over. Adjusting the sword strapped to his waist, the man climbed onto the saddle with practiced movements and lightly tapped the horse’s flanks with his feet resting in the stirrups.

Reading his master’s intent in that motion, the horse Jojo snorted once and immediately burst into a gallop, departing the scene.

He and his horse galloped across the red plain. Beneath his clothes and bamboo hat blew a dry, sandy wind, his body swaying in tandem with the horse’s movement. Leaving behind the corpses that could not have been dead for even half a day, he rode toward the setting sun.

It was late afternoon in the New Continent.