Chapter 80

On the surface of the water.

There’s only one person here right now.

First off, there’s a corpse lying face down, split in half. This corpse was once a man named Jeonyang.

The impact of the fall tore off all four limbs, so calling it a corpse feels generous—it’s more like a lump of meat.

And right beside this… is the girl who just plummeted into the water moments ago and shattered into pieces.

No living being should survive a fall from that height. When you hit water from such an altitude, it’s like crashing onto concrete.

And naturally, if it were a young girl, her body would be pulverized beyond recognition. But somehow, as if time rewound itself, her flesh reassembled, reforming her into a human shape.

In short, she’s not human.

In front of this girl—and inside the lump of meat—is someone still alive.

The person known as “Chunma,” thanks to their mastery of inner energy, barely survived. But with nearly every organ ruptured due to the impact, they’re succumbing to total organ failure… at least for now.

This person is currently the only living soul here.

Their face is smeared with makeup and blood, no longer resembling a human’s. Their left arm and right leg are severed, blood gushing out. And from every orifice imaginable, blood streams uncontrollably. Anyone witnessing this would surely think it’s too late for them.

If anyone were around to see, that is.

The girl with unnatural purple hair approached Jeongha.

“Here’s the question I should ask now: Do you want to live? If so, won’t you make a contract with me?”

So innocent-sounding.

That tone turned the whole scene bizarre. With corpses and dying people scattered around the water’s edge, the casualness of her voice made Jeongha snap back to reality.

Perhaps because he was on the brink between life and death, or maybe because he had reached a state called “Yeon-Young-Gi.”

Of course, this doesn’t mean he’s some transcendent immortal who has escaped reincarnation and gained infinite life, as depicted in typical Xianxia novels.

It’s just that his martial arts training incorporates Daoist elements, hence the terminology. In fact, this world isn’t really Wuxia or Xianxia—it just happens to resemble those genres superficially. The girl, as an outsider entity, knows this well and doesn’t trust any memories from her past life.

Still, at least in terms of surpassing worldly limits, reaching “Yeon-Young-Gi” could signify stepping into the realm of transcendence.

Thus, despite losing so much blood that his vision blurs, something beyond the visible appears before him.

As if the sea were inverted above the sky.

They say the world originated from chaos; perhaps the sea covering the heavens represents that primordial disorder.

Only the leader of the cult can see the glyphs etched on the walls.

The Three Great Chunma.

The sole individual in history to have conquered the martial arts world.

The God of Martial Arts.

Etched into these words is an overwhelming sense of fear and despair—a feeling that no matter what you do, you can never escape.

Publicly, it’s said the God of Martial Arts ascended to heaven, but all that remains is the trace of a defeated man who resisted something incomprehensible and lost.

But Jeongha called upon it anyway.

He was confident.

Through mastering Gyuwa Protection, he believed he became the sole person capable of confronting it, even though it twisted both his body and mind.

Even if the inability to fully bloom his potential erased his lust for power, his pride in being the best remained.

That’s why he dared to summon the ominous deity.

Much preparation was needed to summon such a god, but this was the Tianma Divine Cult, where one of its ten halls—the Moon Street Hall—collected forbidden techniques from this world.

There, everything required to summon the terrifying god, including methods to control it, was available.

Jeongha brought materials originally prepared by Gyung-yong to become the perfect Chunma.

One key ingredient was Eunjai, a descendant with violet hair similar to Gyung-yong’s. Though Gyung-yong almost wiped out this lineage due to perceived danger, he spared some due to the unique qualities of the Chunma line.

Instead, they were raised to be refined into pills.

Using this, Jeongha summoned the thing that even the God of Martial Arts dreaded: the Violet Mad God of Fourfold Chaos.

At first, seeing the world tear apart before his eyes, Jeongha braced for a fierce battle. But instead, the entity turned out to be laughably weak.

No detectable energy, no overwhelming aura. Its movements were clumsy, and its only special ability seemed to be granting strength to others.

Jeongha initially suspected deception.

But when he saw how tenderly the god treated the child he sent, realizing it had no idea what it was doing, all doubts vanished.

Then he thought he understood the loneliness of an absolute being. He thought he empathized with the outsider.

Of course, he was wrong.

Now, Jeongha realizes his mistake.

He sees the chaos cloaked in the skin of a child.

It offers him a contract to live.

The image of the child instantly healing from near-death flashes in his mind, and Jeongha desperately shouts:

“Not me! Contract with Jeonyang! Please contract with Jeonyang!”

But the outsider shakes its head.

“It’s impossible. As I mentioned earlier, let me explain. First reason: Once a person contracts, they cannot do so again.”

Raising a finger, the outsider squats down to meet Jeongha’s gaze.

“And second reason: Jeonyang lacks warmth.”

A second finger rises.

Jeongha finally understands his misconception, but the meaning is clear—Jeonyang is dead.

“But… but, it’s warm, isn’t it?”

Without expression, the outsider places a hand on Jeongha’s cheek.

“This is normal body temperature.”

Jeongha knows this. Despite his mangled body burning with feverish pain, the corpse he clutches is already cold.

Not freezing yet, but enough to distinguish the absence of life.

As Jeongha struggles to accept this chilling reality, the outsider asks again:

“Will you contract?”

Jeongha’s vision is blurred, but through his fading sight, he clearly sees what lies within the girl’s body.

Now he understands why the God of Martial Arts bore such scars of despair. A chaotic presence looms over him.

“Now? Even though Jeonyang is already gone?”

The last words Jeonyang spoke during the fall echo in Jeongha’s ears.

“If you don’t want to, there’s nothing I can do. I won’t force you. I just hope humanity does what it wishes.”

The outsider removes their hand from Jeongha’s cheek.

Jeongha feels incredibly tired. Will closing his eyes allow him to follow Jeonyang?

Thinking this, he turns his gaze away from the increasingly cold figure of the outsider.

Or tries to.

Splash!

Suddenly, a sound reverberates as someone lands on the water.

Through his blurred vision, Jeongha recognizes Gyung-yong.

“You fool! You’ve broken the taboo! To bring forth the very entity that drove the God of Martial Arts to ruin! Did you truly believe something like this could make you worthy of becoming Chunma?!”

As Gyung-yong raises his sword, immense energy ripples through the water.

Naturally, the half-submerged corpse of Jeonyang is torn apart by the current.

To Jeongha, it feels like separating himself from Jeonyang.

His eyes flare with anger.

An irrational hatred fills his chest.

After confirming Jeongha’s condition and judging him as good as dead, Gyung-yong points his blade at the purple-haired girl.

Gyung-yong possesses knowledge about what the God of Martial Arts encountered at the peak of his cultivation—a horrifying existence that caused even him to crumble in terror.

Having personally inspected the God of Martial Arts’ quarters, Gyung-yong knows the threat before him could be the greatest danger he’s ever faced.

Besides, the girl resembles the descendants of Eunjai, whom Gyung-yong once killed.

While there’s a chance the girl isn’t chaos incarnate, Gyung-yong is certain whoever this is bears resentment toward him. His life experiences unconsciously lead him to this conclusion.

After all, in the Tianma Divine Cult, others were either enemies or subordinates.

Though ironically, the truth is quite the opposite.

Choseol was processed into a material for refinement since infancy. She knew nothing of the world and possessed no proper sense of self.

Rebecca retained her personality in her vessel, but Choseol, even if she did retain hers, wouldn’t feel anything toward Gyung-yong.

To the Outsider observing through the Harvesting System, Gyung-yong is merely human.

No, in this situation, he’s more like a gift.

“I’ll contract.”

With a voice filled with hatred, Jeongha glares at Gyung-yong and speaks.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of the Outsider’s lips.

“I will give myself to you. In return, after you finish everything, you can take whatever you desire. How does that sound?”

Originally, such words held no power. But after countless repetitions, the statement gains weight.

“Alright.”

The concept of a contract between two beings warped the world, leaving Gyung-yong powerless to intervene without breaking the rules.

Crack.

Jeongha’s skin hardens like porcelain. His entire body transforms into a ceramic-like structure, and from the center of his chest, an unnaturally pale arm bursts forth.

Crack.

Like a bird hatching from its shell, a woman with eerily pale skin emerges from Jeongha’s distorted form.

Her eyes open.

The whites turn black, and the irises glow brightly.

Though unmistakably inhuman, her beauty is mesmerizing.

She moves her naked body a few times, then bends down to retrieve Jeonyang’s sword embedded beside the corpse. But the blade shatters instantly in her grip.

Unfazed, she points the broken weapon at Gyung-yong.

And in the next instant—

Without warning, a violet flash melts everything in its path, piercing through space.

All that remains is a lower torso, the upper body completely obliterated.

The sword melts red-hot in her hand.

Watching this, the Outsider asks:

“Why use a sword?”

The woman, who was once Jeongha, replies:

“A lady can’t fight barehanded, can she?”

The Chunma has returned.

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