A plain in the Guangdong region.
There, a man knelt, bleeding.
“Keuhk….”
He braced himself against the ground and vomited blood.
Splurt—! Dark red blood flowed.
It signaled that the man’s life was nearing its end.
His left arm was grotesquely twisted.
The center of his chest was unnaturally caved in.
It was agonizing pain.
Feeling this, the man smiled.
“Haha….”
The man’s name was Do Mungang.
Though he was no longer called that, until just a few years ago, he had been a man known as Sama Oje.
Do Mungang, the Nine-Fist Demon.
A master of the Transformation Realm who could turn his opponents into minced meat with nine punches.
He was dying on the land of Guangdong.
“…Absurd.”
Drenched in blood, Do Mungang raised his head.
At the end of his barely lifted gaze, someone stood before him.
Clad in a martial uniform of blue and black, the figure stood with hands clasped behind their back, looking down at Do Mungang.
Looking at him, Do Mungang lifted his trembling lips.
“…Did it not reach you?”
“It grazed me.”
A flat, emotionless voice.
At that somewhat youthful tone, Do Mungang laughed hollowly.
“…Ha….”
It was a peerless martial art said to never miss its target.
It had been such a martial art, yet the figure before him had shattered it completely.
Barely grazed him?
The martial art that contained decades of his life.
Had it all crumbled before a young man who seemed barely in his twenties?
“Tsk, tsk…”
Do Mungang laughed and lowered his head.
Because he no longer had the strength to lift it again.
Beyond his gradually darkening vision, Do Mungang asked.
“…May I ask your name?”
He wanted to hear it.
The name of the martial artist who had so utterly destroyed him.
And also.
The name of a figure who seemed destined to become the greatest of all time, from the past to the present.
Do Mungang wanted to hear it.
Hearing the question, the young man spoke, his bluish eyes gleaming.
“It’s nothing so grand. I’m just the third son of the Gu household.”
“…The Gu clan….”
At the name, a man’s face flashed through Do Mungang’s mind.
A monstrous man who had placed a restriction upon him.
They shared the same surname.
Could he be that bastard’s son?
He had heard the man had a son. But he could not recall the name.
However.
‘…It can’t be….’
That doubt was quickly erased from his mind.
That monster had used fire arts.
The brat before him had not used fire arts.
He had killed him with nothing but hand-to-hand combat; surely he was not from that family.
Having finished that thought, Do Mungang asked the young man something else.
“Then… do you… have an alias…?”
“An alias?”
The young man’s eyes shifted.
A brief deliberation.
Or perhaps hesitation?
A few seconds passed.
The young man introduced his alias to Do Mungang.
“Heavenly Demon.”
Hearing the alias, Do Mungang thought.
“…Heavenly Demon….”
A demon bestowed by the heavens.
An alias somewhat arrogant, yet one that suited the young man perfectly.
Having thought so, Do Mungang—
Thud…
—dropped his head and met his death.
“Hmm….”
Flick, flick.
The young man dusted off his hands as he looked at the dead Do Mungang.
It wasn’t a face that showed much emotion.
Then he pulled a letter from his clothes.
It was a letter his master had left him, calling it a gift.
The letter bore the seal of the Beggars’ Sect.
The shape of the seal showed that it was none other than the Beggars’ Sect Leader’s own.
At this, the young man couldn’t help but make a sour expression.
Because one look told him this was no ordinary matter.
What kind of insane nonsense had he sent now?
He was already uneasy.
He soon unfolded the letter to check its contents.
“Ah.”
Seeing the first line inside the letter, the young man widened his eyes.
What was written there was something entirely unexpected.
-Hosting of the Divine Dragon Martial Tournament.
A rather abrupt and unexpected line.
Why was this suddenly popping up?
It was simply absurd.
Yet, looking at it, the young man somehow found himself holding back a smile.
Perhaps he should consider it a good thing.
“It was about time I got moving anyway.”
Rustle.
He roughly folded the letter and tucked it back into his clothes.
He looked up at the sky.
And spoke.
“Come down now.”
He spoke, glaring at the sun.
-Kuaaaaaaaah!
A rough roar sounded from somewhere.
Shuuuuuk—!
Something plummeted rapidly from the sky toward the ground.
Immediately after, something massive collided with the earth.
Kuuuuuung—! Kwaaaaaaah—!
Dust spread outward with tremendous air pressure.
Not long after, when the view had cleared once more.
Grrrrrr….
The young man was astride a massive demonic beast with blue scales.
Caressing its scales with his hand, the young man spoke.
“Let’s head home first. If we’re late, that damned old man will throw another fit.”
Grrrrr—!
Hearing his words, the beast immediately surged powerfully into the air.
Phaaaang—!
It flew through the sky, moving as swiftly as if swimming.
Its speed was tremendous.
So fast that the surrounding scenery changed in an instant.
While his hair whipped violently in the wind, the young man clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, thinking.
‘This should be enough preparation.’
It had taken longer than expected, but he had laid a solid foundation.
He felt like he could do it now.
Right.
It seemed the time had finally come.
‘Let’s begin.’
It was time to rampage in earnest.