Baek Ri-hyun—an orphan carved from the chaos of the Central Plains—had long ceased to be merely a man.
From the tender age of nine, he had been swept into the unrelenting tide of war, surviving on instinct, honing his martial prowess until his body became the very embodiment of destruction. He trained beyond the realm of reason, mastering arts that only legends whispered of. His fists could crack mountains; his breath could call the thunder. In time, there remained no opponent he could not defeat, no battlefield that did not bear his mark. Thus, the martial world bestowed upon him a title feared and revered in equal measure: The Martial God.
But his glory became his prison. While generations came and went like fleeting seasons, Baek Ri-hyun remained frozen in the prime of youth—unaging, immortal, and alone. War never ended; only the faces changed.
When the time came for the 42nd Generation of the Heavenly Demon Cult to rise, their ambitions knew no restraint. The Azure Alliance, determined to extinguish the cult once and for all, prepared for all-out war. And at their vanguard stood the only man the cult had never defeated—Baek Ri-hyun.
The skies above the battlefield twisted with chaotic energies, black demonic qi clashing violently against vibrant azure currents. What was once a tranquil meadow had become a blood-soaked ruin. Fires blazed, and corpses littered the soil like withered leaves.
Baek Ri-hyun stood at the heart of it, gripping his weathered sword. His breathing was calm, but his body bore the weariness of a thousand battles. Across the crimson-stained courtyard, upon a grotesque throne crafted from bone and shadow, sat Cheon Tae, the Divine Heavenly Demon.
"Cheon Tae…" Ri-hyun murmured, narrowing his eyes.
Even at this distance, the Heavenly Demon's aura pressed down like a mountain, suffocating and absolute. The weight of countless sacrifices, all in pursuit of supremacy, emanated from the cult leader like heat from a furnace.
The final confrontation.
"You've achieved it," Ri-hyun stated as they slowly began circling one another, weapons still sheathed. "Transcendence. You've broken free from life and death. Now you command the heavens themselves."
Cheon Tae chuckled darkly. "And yet, despite my ascent, your name still shadows mine. They call you 'unrivaled'—a relic of war who refuses to die. A god of martial arts that threatens the very order we seek."
"I climbed to the peak," Ri-hyun replied, voice heavy with weariness. "I sought peace atop that summit. But all I found was more blood."
Cheon Tae's eyes burned with dark ambition. "You've fought us for 700 years. I will end that cycle here, for the honor of my ancestors. When I kill you, I will become the undisputed master of the Central Plains."
"And if you do," Ri-hyun said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "they will turn on you next. The orthodox sects will never tolerate power they cannot leash."
A pause. Then, with a sardonic smirk: "You'll walk the path we both hate—the path of the Heavenly Demon."
"Enough." Cheon Tae drew his black-bladed sword. "You sound like the Black Heavens Demon—always so loud before he died."
Baek Ri-hyun mirrored him, raising his own sword. Their respective Sword Wills stirred the remnants of broken weapons littering the field. Blades and spears floated into the air around them, dancing to their internal energies.
And then—the sky tore open.
"...!"
It wasn't a natural phenomenon. It wasn't martial qi or demonic energy. It was something altogether other. A luminous rift carved through the sky like a blade through silk, pouring radiant, golden-white light across the battlefield. Even the oppressive darkness of Cheon Tae's presence faltered beneath its brilliance.
A voice echoed, not through the air, but directly into Baek Ri-hyun's mind—a divine plea laced with desperation and sincerity.
> "O great goddess, hear our desperate prayer! Our kingdom stands at the brink of annihilation, the Demon King's shadow devours our lands. I offer my soul, my very essence, in exchange for salvation. Send us champions—warriors of unparalleled might—to vanquish the darkness!"
Baek Ri-hyun barely had time to react.
The world bent around him. Cheon Tae roared, reaching out, but the light coiled around Ri-hyun like a living thing and pulled—hard.
And then, Baek Ri-hyun vanished.
---
He opened his eyes to a place utterly foreign.
The air was clean—unnaturally so—and the rich scent of blood was gone. Polished marble gleamed beneath his feet, and tall banners fluttered gently from gilded pillars. A throne hall, vast and immaculate.
Before him, knights in gleaming armor stood at attention, gripping ceremonial spears. And in the center of it all knelt a woman—radiant and draped in elegant robes. Princess Aurelia Beleville.
"Has the summoning been successful, Archmage Narae?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yes, Your Highness," came the reply. "The goddess has heard you. They are here."
Aurelia pressed a hand to her chest, closing her eyes. "Thank the heavens."
Baek Ri-hyun squinted. Strange, flickering light danced before his eyes—foreign text suspended in mid-air.
> [Welcome, Summoned Hero]
[System Initializing...]
[Basic Stats Allocated]
[Daily Quest: Take Three Steps Forward]
More murmurs filled the chamber. Ri-hyun turned to find four others beside him—young men and women in strange clothing. One wore a t-shirt with a cartoon character. Another had vibrant pink hair. Each stared in wonder at their floating interfaces.
Princess Aurelia rose, her silver eyes shimmering with hope.
"O great heroes, we thank the goddess for delivering you to us. Our kingdom is under siege by the Demon King. We beg you—lend us your strength, and together, we can restore peace to our realm."
Baek Ri-hyun glanced again at the translucent prompt in front of him.
A quest? Step forward?
He did so, curiosity overriding caution. His boots echoed softly on the polished floor.
> [Daily Quest Complete]
[Reward: 10 EXP Gained]
He stared blankly. A world of systems and quests? He was a martial god—his life was blood, steel, and qi, not floating text and arbitrary rules. And yet, the warmth of the light, the absence of war, stirred something strange in his chest.
He turned his gaze to the heavens—or what passed for it in this unfamiliar ceiling—and thought:
"Even the gods make mistakes."
The others cheered, their excitement palpable.
"I'm Hiroki Tanaka," one of the young men said, bowing deeply. "This is my sister, Sakura."
"Kenji Sato," said another, adjusting his glasses. "I've been assigned the Archer class."
"I'm… Takeshi Aoki," the last one said nervously.
Princess Aurelia nodded to each of them with grace and gratitude. "Welcome, brave ones. May your arrival mark a turning point in our fate."
As the others were led away, Aurelia's eyes lingered on Baek Ri-hyun.
He stood still, unmoved, a man out of place in a world of fantasy and prayer.
And outside the palace, where the sun was warm and no screams filled the wind, Baek Ri-hyun whispered to himself:
"It's… peaceful."
He closed his eyes.
Peace. A word he had never truly known.
And for the first time in centuries, he allowed himself to chase it.