What would it feel like to be reincarnated with all your memories from your previous life intact?
He was dreaming of the end of his previous life.
Distant yet vivid memories.
Life's memories flashed by like a panorama.
Two men appeared in it.
One was the victor. He had driven his enemy to the edge of a cliff and had countless masters backing him up.
The other had been betrayed by the lord he trusted and was cornered at the cliff's edge.
All the comrades he'd shared life and death with were dead.
He had nothing left.
Behind him was only the carriage of the woman he'd secretly loved, sitting there all alone.
The two men began to talk.
"Do you know why I'm still keeping you alive after you've caused our organization so much trouble?"
"It must be because of the Eternal Chest."
"Indeed, worthy of being called the Blood God Energy."
"Where is the Eternal Chest?"
Liu Xiangtian asked. His goal was the Eternal Chest. Nothing was more important to him right now.
"What can you do for me if I tell you where it is?"
"I'll spare your life. Though you'll have to give up your martial arts and spend the rest of your days in the Cave of Penitence. Not sure if there's room in the Cave of Penitence though. Our organization has won. Zhang Jinbao abandoned you to save his own skin. Isn't that right?"
"If you don't take my life, won't there be a lot of talk internally? Will that be okay?"
"The Eternal Chest is more important than that. It's more important to catch Zhang Jinbao easily. If he's determined to run, he'll be quite the nuisance."
"Then... make me a promise."
"A promise? Promises need collateral, but I don't think you have much to offer."
"I'll stake my head and the location of the Eternal Chest."
"Let me hear it first."
"It's simple. If I can land even one attack on you, guarantee the safety of the carriage."
"Do you still have some loyalty left to protect for the lord who abandoned you?"
"What will you do?"
"I know you're a master who's reached the peak in your own right. But do you think it's possible?"
"That's my business."
"Fine. Let's do that. I'll say this in front of my people. If you can land even one attack on me, I'll guarantee the safety of Zhang Jinbao's wife Zhong Susu and his son Zhang Zheng. Is that good enough now?"
"Good. Before that, I'd like to make one request."
"What?"
"I want to drink one last time. Give me some alcohol."
"Hmm, we only have white spirits."[1]
"That's not bad either."
A man who emptied an entire jar of alcohol.
When the intoxication rose and he used that intoxication to circulate the Energy Manipulation and Drunken Sword Technique to the extreme, he could momentarily reach the realm of transcendence.
He planned to use that.
"I'll begin."
"Go ahead."
A duel between Liu Xiangtian, the Sword Emperor and master of the Divine Sword Sect, and Qiu Ying, the Blood God Energy strategist of the Heaven-Reaching Alliance.
It was an absurd match from the start. In the current martial world, those who could face Liu Xiangtian head-on could be counted on one hand.
So Qiu Ying aimed only to leave even the smallest scratch on Liu Xiangtian's body.
He didn't care about anything else.
He instantly closed the distance and, ignoring all incoming attacks, managed to scratch Liu Xiangtian's body.
At the same time, a spear pierced Qiu Ying's side.
It was the work of Liu Xiangtian's subordinate. Qiu Ying confirmed this and actually smiled. Liu Xiangtian's death wasn't part of his plan.
Only if he stayed alive could Zhong Susu and Zhang Jinbao live.
The enraged Liu Xiangtian drew his sword toward the subordinate who had used the spear.
"Get back! How dare you interfere with a sacred duel!"
Then Qiu Ying grabbed Liu Xiangtian's arm.
"Would you really kill a loyal subordinate over something like this?"
His body was heating up as if it would burst into flames at any moment.
It was the aftereffect of using forbidden martial arts.
"...The Eternal Chest is in Yichuan... Please... keep your promise."
With those words, his body began to blaze brightly. As if someone had set him on fire.
The conversations he'd had with Liu Xiangtian scattered and disappeared.
The countless martial arts masters who had been watching his blazing figure turned away.
Only the carriage left alone at the cliff's edge remained forlornly.
That was the end of his previous life's memories.
And then, as if falling asleep again, the scene slowly faded to black.
As if it were all just a dream.
***
When he came to his senses, it was a new world. He immediately realized he had been reincarnated into another body.
How could he tell right away?
Because this wasn't the first time he'd felt this way.
Aslan.
A man who had repeatedly reincarnated.
This was his second reincarnation.
Reincarnation with all memories of all previous lives intact.
After finishing his life in the martial world, the world had changed. At least it wasn't the world he knew.
'These buildings... is this Europe? Where is this?'
Soon, past memories began flooding into the man's mind.
The original memories that the body's original owner had possessed.
The first memory that came to mind.
Aslan.
The original owner's name.
And the name he would live by from now on.
He briefly organized his current life's memories in a dazed state. And organized his past memories too.
He had lived and died in the martial world under the alias Blood God Energy. It meant he had an exceptional talent for calling forth blood.
A strategist for one of the forces that divided the martial world.
Though he met his death through his lord's betrayal, his mental cultivation had reached a level ordinary people couldn't approach.
And just before dying, he had made a vow. If given another chance, this time he would live more for himself.
As if in response to that resolve, he was reincarnated as a new person.
The unfortunate thing was that his current situation wasn't very promising.
After organizing the important memories, Aslan could tell this was quite a troublesome situation.
There were many troublesome things, but the most troublesome of all was his current status.
Slave.
He wasn't just any slave either. Aslan had originally been the crown prince of the Maran Kingdom. But since it was now a fallen kingdom, he was bound as a slave on the cold stone floor.
"Get up!"
The cold voice of Liscal, the slave overseer, rang out.
People got up all at once. It was hard to move properly with iron chains around their ankles and wrists. Plus those chains were all connected in a line.
Then came the selection process.
Those with good builds, those with poor builds, those with experience, those without. And whether they had diseases or not.
Countless slaves began to be sorted. And Aslan could tell what kind of slaves this place was selecting.
The arena.
A place where people bet money and staged fights.
'Is this at least fortunate?'
Aslan had learned martial arts in the modern world and also learned martial arts techniques. Whatever else, if he could just grasp the situation and adapt, he was confident he could survive somehow.
But he wasn't entirely optimistic. Aslan was examining his body.
The bone structure wasn't bad. His height was also tall compared to the surrounding slaves. But his body was far too frail.
'He was a crown prince... didn't he exercise at all?'
The fortunate thing was that Aslan wasn't very old.
Just fifteen now. There was still room to grow. And for fifteen, this height was quite tall. In modern world terms, he looked over 175cm.
'Even so, there's way too little muscle.'
The slave overseer explained each slave's characteristics one by one. Soon it was Aslan's turn.
"Aslan. Crown prince of the Maran Kingdom. No particular diseases."
The slave overseer told Rocom. Rocom was the owner of the slaves here.
The head of a family that had run arenas for generations.
"Right. So this is that guy. I can tell just by looking at him. Don't brand this one."
His appearance was distinctly different from the other slaves at a glance.
"Indeed... he's someone who ended up in the wrong place. I'll prepare to send him back."
"No. We're not sending him back."
"What? You're not sending him to the male brothel? With this face?"
"We already paid for this one. It's a shame about that face. But we got paid for it."
"With his build, he won't last even one match."
"How old is he?"
"Fifteen."
"We can send him to the youth division matches. Someone has a grudge against the Maran Kingdom... they specifically want to watch this guy die."
"I... I see. But if that's the case, wouldn't it be better to send him to sword fighting rather than boxing?"
"In the meantime, the corpse has to be preserved intact."
"What?"
"Nothing can be cut or damaged. It's a special request. I can't understand the tastes of the higher-ups. They want to taxidermy the Maran Kingdom's crown prince with the exact expression of being beaten to death."
"...!"
"What did they call it... oh right, liveliness. It has to have the vividness of being alive. You know, like how they taxidermy animals in roaring poses."
Slave overseer Liscal's expression hardened at Rocom's words.
The slave arena wasn't a place where just any losers among losers ended up.
This was content that would shock even an overseer who managed such losers.
Taxidermying a person.
It was a hobby he'd never heard of.
"I know, Liscal. I had the same expression as you when I first heard it. But what can we do when a request comes in? It's not a bad offer. They paid us plenty too. So send this one that way."
"Understood."
"Ah! The brand! Don't put it anywhere. Got it? Don't make even the slightest mark. That's the kind of request this is."
"Really? So you're saying don't mark him at all?"
"Right. That's what was agreed on, so don't brand him. Don't touch him at all and make sure there's nothing artificial. Got it?"
Aslan, who understood their conversation, was cursing internally.
'Shit! Damn it!'
They say if you see one, you know ten.
From first impressions, you could roughly gauge what kind of atmosphere that world had.
A class-based society with nobles and slaves was something he could more or less accept.
But taxidermy?
Aslan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
A world where high-ranking people taxidermied humans couldn't be normal. It was likely an even more messed-up world than the martial world ruled by the logic of power.
While all sorts of thoughts swirled in his head, the slave selection ended, and he was locked up in prison again.
***
Several days passed.
Once a day, soup was served as a meal. Of course, it didn't taste good.
He didn't know what it was made of, and didn't want to know—that kind of soup.
"Aslan. Even if you came from a foreign country, you should know the common language, right? Why aren't you answering?"
"I understand."
"I'm Liscal. I'll be in charge of you from now on. You'll keep seeing my face until you die."
"..."
"You don't need to think of it as difficult. I don't know how people outside think of this place, but this place has rules too. If you follow the rules, there's no reason for this whip to come toward your body."
Aslan didn't believe Liscal's words.
The slaves in the same room had already been hit by Liscal's whip several times. But strangely, Liscal didn't hit Aslan.
He thought it was because he was of royal status, but that wasn't the reason.
"Those guys are different from you. They need to make money. For entertaining matches, training is necessary. And for that, they need to get whipped. They need to get used to pain."
"Don't I need training?"
"Didn't you hear? You don't need it. The question is how you'll die."
"Isn't there a way to live?"
He hadn't reincarnated just to die meaninglessly. And he had no intention of dying in the first place.
"Huh? A way to live? There is. Just keep winning matches. If you can keep winning, that is."
Liscal said with a smirk.
[1] Baijiu is also called 'white spirit'