The Blood Demon found the current situation nothing short of enjoyable.
From the start, she had viewed Namgung Bin as nothing more than a tool, just as he viewed her. She saw herself as the instrument that would bring chaos to the world in place of her broken self.
Not that the Blood Demon had any intention of truly aiding Namgung Bin. She had only taught him the Blood Heaven Technique because she found the situation amusing—how the brother of the Sword Sage aimed to bring about his downfall.
“Is… is this what you mean?”
“Yes! We must hurry!”
Currently, her attempt to have Soeun Yu read Namgung Cheolbin’s diary stemmed from the same reasoning.
While she anticipated Namgung Bin’s future exploits using the Blood Heaven Technique she taught him, what she truly desired was to uncover the bizarre secret of the Sword Sage, who astonishingly subdued all the Blood Cult’s forces and even overpowered her in just two moves.
The Blood Demon had long known, without much contemplation, that the Sword Sage was no ordinary supreme martial artist.
‘Hurry! Hurry and read! Before that Namgung Bin comes!’
The unexpected appearance of Soeun Yu presented her with a rare opportunity. To uncover the Sword Sage’s secrets while evading Namgung Bin’s watchful eye, who refused to show her Namgung Cheolbin’s diary no matter how much she begged.
Even if the true Namgung family matriarch discovered her and she faced the real death at the hands of the righteous sects soon thereafter, having already died once, she didn’t fear dying again.
“Hm… what on earth could this be…?”
Soeun Yu took the worn notebook with a troubled expression.
As she opened it, a few specks of dust fluttered down.
“Don’t even think of playing around. I’ll read as you’ve asked.”
Soeun Yu was a woman of inherently frail disposition. Encountering such a strange and eerie woman in the dead of night filled her with an unprecedented sense of overwhelming dread.
Even more so because all four of the woman’s limbs were missing.
Swoosh, swoosh—
Yet, the more unnerving the circumstances, the more curiosity sparked within Soeun Yu.
People were creatures driven by curiosity, after all, and she was as intrigued by the woman’s horrifying appearance as she was about the mysterious content of the book.
‘For such a woman to implore me to read… what on earth could its content be?’
And so, driven by curiosity, she brushed the dust off the cover of the book in her hands.
‘…What?’
When her eyes fell upon the three Chinese characters on its cover, her movements froze.
—
Daily Record
—
What those three characters meant was of little importance for now.
What mattered at this moment was just one thing:
“Master…?”
—
Calligraphy
—
There, unmistakably written, was the calligraphy belonging to her late husband, Sword Sage Namgung Cheolbin.
Instantly, Soeun Yu’s mind went blank. Her heart began to race.
Swish, swish—
Unbelieving, she traced the title of the diary as if in a trance.
It was clear. There was no mistaking it. This was certainly Namgung Cheolbin’s handwriting.
If so, then what was this?
What was the true identity of this notebook?
What was the identity of this Daily Record—?
‘Could this be… his diary…?’
When this thought crossed her mind, Soeun Yu could think no further.
She merely flipped hastily through the first few pages, desperate to read on.
“Hey, girl! If you’re going to read it, make sure I can understand it!”
“….”
The Blood Demon yelled from behind, but Soeun Yu paid her no mind. She had no room in her head for such distractions.
The series of phrases appearing before her eyes—so vividly reflected in her large, round pupils—were pushing her into an abyss of panic without a bottom.
“What… what on earth… is all this…?”
…
—
Ah.
Here we go again.
Hmm… What should I write first?
Anyway, I’m back again.
These words were just written a moment ago…
…
Damn it.
I can’t fathom when I’ll finally surpass the Heavenly Demon.
How many times has it been? Easily surpassing several thousand attempts, with no clear count to know for sure.
Each time I rewind the loop of time, the Heavenly Demon, that demonic woman of the Heavenly Mountain, remains insurmountable.
Why? Why doesn’t my realm grow? Since I reached the level of barely grazing the edge of the Heavenly Demon’s cloak several thousand cycles ago, there’s been no visible progress, leaving me desperate.
My internal energy has already transcended the realm of mere emptiness, reaching an infinite state where no elixir or dan can add anything further.
I thought, for my family’s sake, I could endure walking through endless darkness.
Damn it…
It feels like I’m gradually being consumed by the darkness. It’s as if worms have nested in my body for thousands of years, starting from the soles of my feet.
Through the last… approximately a hundred cycles, have I accomplished anything?
I’ve traveled through every corner of the land, including even New Wulin.
Japan, the North Sea Ice Palace, the Great Steppe, the Great Desert, the Holy Empire, Pulladab Palace, the Land of India, the Southern Savages, and more… Honestly, I feel like there’s nowhere left to go.
I conversed with someone called the Buddha, considered a transcendent sage or sage among men at the Thunder Sound Temple. Even they offered no answers to my situation.
What am I even doing in the face of the absolute end, the Heavenly Demon? Could it be that I’m merely flailing pointlessly, holding back time for everyone?
…These suspicions must be pushed aside. Even in the previous cycle, when I couldn’t withstand a single move from the Heavenly Demon and died, I keep wavering in spirit.
Damn.
The more I write, the more these strange thoughts creep in.
I am growing. Even in the last cycle, I managed to subdue the Blood Demon with just one move while using minimal internal energy.
That I’ve grown is an evident fact.
In this cycle, I intend to capture the Blood Demon without using any internal energy. Roughly, I estimate two moves will suffice.
The problem is with the Heavenly Demon.
A monster that splits the sky and erases the heavens and the earth.
A monster whose kick can split continents, whose hand can whip up a storm engulfing all of the Central Plains.
And then, at the end, she tells me to rewind time again.
I’ve begged her to stop and struggled as much as I could, but eventually, I always succumb to her command. I cannot abandon the lives of my family and the world.
Even knowing that time has stagnated for close to ten thousand years, I rewind time and live the same world anew.
Thus, I’m a machine. A regressive machine.
If she says to regress, I regress; if she says to rewind, I rewind, grinding time finely until it’s smooth like broken stone.
That is me. A mere tool. A lowly mechanical child of the Heavenly Demon.
The writing is getting too chaotic. I intended to write in regular script, but here I am…
Even if I enter the realm of emotionlessness, this overwhelming sense of self-loathing shows no sign of fading.
Still, I continue to grow. At this rate, I will eventually surpass even the Heavenly Demon.
It’s fine. I can do it.
Even if it means going through this immense repetition akin to squaring the current cycle count.
I can endure it. I must endure it.
I will endure. No matter what, I will endure.
When it gets tough, I only need to think of my family’s faces. Those faces help me more than those of thousands or tens of thousands of others.
Therefore, I can endure.
For I can endure.
…
Everything is going smoothly in the current cycle.
Still, I must not let go of my focus.
I must push myself to the limits while also saving as many people as possible.
…Though, this cycle is mostly for training anyway.
Tomorrow, I face the Twelve Demon Lords of the Blood Cult. It’s also the day I rescue around five hundred children.
Same as usual—no harm must come to anyone.
All I need to do is block all the palm strikes, sword auras, and throwing weapons aimed at the scattered children while capturing the Twelve Supreme Martial Experts.
Though, without these constraints, given enough time to prepare, I could easily kill them. But training would not be effective without these restrictions.
Frankly, it’s disheartening to say the least. I don’t even know if there’s anywhere left to grow while engaging in these bizarre forms of training.
Still…
As I’ve done until now, I will do again.
No, I have done. I’ll definitely do no matter what.
I’ll recreate the thrill and fulfillment I felt when I captured the Blood Demon for the first time and in the ninety-ninth cycle.
When that day arrives, whether I’ll even be able to feel those emotions, I don’t know.
Sigh…
…
From the moment I woke up this morning, something felt off.
For an instant, I couldn’t feel anything at all.
The refreshing, clear, invigorating feelings one should naturally feel upon waking from a deep sleep—these were absent.
Though I often refer to myself as “emotionless,” these are different concepts entirely.
It means that I’m “wearing out.”
Not my personality or my mind.
But my existence, my soul.
…
My handwriting has gotten messy. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt the emotion of fear. I don’t want to feel these dark emotions.
This isn’t selective emotionlessness, is it?
Even when I try to hope that it was “just a moment,” my instincts know the truth.
That “moment” will stretch into a quarter of an hour, a full hour, a day, a lifetime.
Having already undergone this process, I cannot pretend ignorance.
And during this wearing out,
There’s nothing I can do. I won’t even be able to thrash about. I’ll just be swept away and disintegrated by the currents of time.
A sudden thought strikes me.
What if, when I return from regression,
If and when I face the resplendent light, and everyone is laughing and celebrating,
What if I’m left out of it all?
…
As always, I have no choice.
I must simply focus on today.
Even if that future does come.
…
I will push forward.
I am pushing forward.
An intense battle at Wudang Mountain is approaching. I will fight alongside Jade Flower and the Heavenly Lord.
The other day before leaving the family estate,
My wife looked at me with a troubled gaze.
Worry, anxiety, fear, sadness, love.
And just a little resentment.
It’s probably because I keep coming back wounded. I only receive the necessary injuries for optimal training.
What shocked me the most at that moment wasn’t her gaze,
But rather, that I felt nothing but emotional flatness in response to it.
It would be better if I could feel fear or sadness in moments like these.
This relentless world pulling me down is truly obstinate and cruel.
Ah…
…
Today, my wife asked me a question.
If I truly love her.
She also recommended that I take a break.
She said things about how my state lately has been unstable.
Yes… I agree with her statement, but obviously, I cannot rest.
A tool taking a break? Even if I break down in the next cycle, it’ll all be reset anyway. What does it matter?
What truly matters is what happens in front of her.
Does she really love me?
Even when we’re together, I’ve always whispered words of love to her, but clearly, they aren’t enough.
No, in fact, words have always been sufficient. Back in the middle of the earlier cycles, I only ever said those words, yet she never once questioned me about them.
So why does she bring this question of love up now?
It must mean…
She has realized that there is no sincerity in my words.
Though it was me who was asked the question, now I find myself wondering the same thing.
Do I truly love my wife?
Is the passionate emotion I once felt still present with me?
Is my current behavior just a mechanical habit developed through countless cycles?
…
Why am I writing such obvious things in my journal?
I do love her.
I love her, I love her. I love Soeun Yu.
Even as all feelings dull, this one must not.
Even if everything else is gone, leaving behind just a sliver of straw, I must desperately cling to it and fight on.
If, by some chance, even that sliver were to disappear,
I’m not certain I’d be able to endure.
For the purpose of rewinding time would vanish.
So, therefore,
I do love.
My affection remains intact.
That’s what I want to tell her.
I love her.
I love her, I love her.
…
I must constantly remember this.
I must not forget it. I must not overlook it. I must not let it fade.
I love her. I must love. I absolutely must love.
I must not forget. I must not lose. I must not let it fade.
I love her. I—her.
I love her. I love her. I love her. I must love her. I must absolutely love her.
…Do not forget, do not lose, do not fade.
I love her.
I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her.
Love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love…
Oh…
…The paper has slightly torn.
*
Flip! Flip!
With each page turn, Soeun Yu flipped through the journal chaotically like someone stricken with madness.
Each time, her face contorted severely.
“…W-What does all this mean…?”
Her voice emerged hoarsely, trembling uncontrollably.
“Rewinding,” she muttered, “R-Ridiculous… Strange…”
Suddenly, a memory surfaced—fourteen years ago, when Namgung Cheolbin suddenly seemed like a different person.
Naturally, it was an absurd notion.
Rewinding time, regressing—such things surely don’t exist anywhere in this world.
Yet, that absurd hypothesis…
Flip!
…Was recorded in excruciating detail within the journal.
And it matched the image of Namgong Cheolbin entrenched in her memory.
“Hey, you dumb girl! Read together! Don’t space out like that while reading alone!”
From the side, the Blood Demon yelled noisily, only adding to the turmoil in Soeun Yu’s mind.
“Master… Master… Master… Master…” Whispering Namgong Cheolbin’s nickname like one possessed, Soeun Yu turned to the next page.
Unfortunately, much more of his journal awaited her to read.
