A Modern Man Who Got Transmigrated Into the Murim World

Chapter 89

Jin Ga-hee, who had been playing with the blood-red haze in the palm of her hand, suddenly looked at Baek Hwa-rin.

“Sis, isn’t this so beautiful?”

Baek Hwa-rin, who had turned back without thinking, was startled.

“Shit, that scared me! Can’t you stop playing with that blood?”

“Hehe, why? It’s just fun.”

“Think about it from my perspective, you idiot! Why only think about yourself? On a creepy night like this, you, pale as you are, playing with blood is pure horror!”

Yum Sang-rok, who had been chewing on dried meat, clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“If that cold-hearted girl understood what you’re saying, she wouldn’t be crazy to begin with, sis.”

Baek Hwa-rin, looking annoyed, turned her gaze away.

“Go on with your business. I’m tired.”

“Hehe, don’t be like that, sis. They say the world is ending soon… and in this situation… hehe.”

As Yum Sang-rok’s sinister gaze swept over her, Baek Hwa-rin snorted.

“You crazy bastard. No matter how much I like food, I wouldn’t go for you, you little shit.”

“Why? Honestly, sis, you usually just close your eyes and gobble it all up, right?”

“You’re just… No.”

Yum Sang-rok, clearly annoyed, narrowed his eyes.

“Sis, this is a matter of pride, you know?”

Baek Hwa-rin sighed, shaking her head, and looked back at Jin Ga-hee.

“Hey. Do you think this guy looks like a man?”

“No. Just an idiot.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Shit.”

Yum Sang-rok, still chewing on dried meat, flopped down on the ground, using the bushes as a blanket.

“Well, the starlight looks nice.”

Jin Ga-hee smiled softly as she looked at the sky along with the night air.

“I wish I could dye everything in blood.”

“Ew… shit, you creepy girl. How can you look at the stars and think of something like that?”

Baek Hwa-rin also looked up at the night sky.

“My life was just about to get interesting, and now this? What is all this talk about constellations and the end of the world? Ugh, it’s giving me a headache.”

“Tell me about it. I thought this life would be fun, experiencing everything to the fullest, but it seems like that’s not going to happen. Oh well, guess that’s just my fate. Even in my past life, it was awful. Seems like I can’t change a cursed fate, damn it.”

“I used to only look at one man with devotion in my past life. But it all turned out to be pointless. So in this life, I’m trying a little bit of this man, that man.”

Yum Sang-rok laughed quietly.

“You’re talking like a monk. You, sis?”

“Hey! Even in my past life, I’d get all flushed seeing dogs in the neighborhood… you know, doing what they do?”

“Puhaha! You, sis?”

Jin Ga-hee looked at both of them with a strange expression.

“What are you two talking about? Past life? Sis?”

The conversation, so natural and unremarkable, caused Baek Hwa-rin to momentarily feel confused, but she suddenly stood up with a start.

“What, what’s going on?”

Yum Sang-rok also jumped up, his face frozen in shock.

A chill ran up their spines, spreading across their bodies.

“Huh?”

It wasn’t just a past life.

Suddenly, memories from all eight of their past lives flooded their minds.

“Ah!”

Jin Ga-hee, looking as though possessed, collapsed in shock.

It was clear that she, too, had regained all her memories from past lives.

Yum Sang-rok realized immediately that she had recovered all the memories of her previous lives.

“…Guys. What is this?”

Baek Hwa-rin, confused, began inspecting her own body.

It wasn’t the usual changes like an increase in Qi or physical strength.

There was something in her that had become much clearer, something she couldn’t express with words.

It was not a physical ability like martial arts.

However…

“Ugh!”

“Ugh!”

Jin Ga-hee, too, had experienced an inexplicable change, and something had become clearer in her. The overwhelming feeling was beyond what Baek Hwa-rin and Yum Sang-rok could imagine.

Just looking at her was enough to make their bodies tremble with fear.

“Hey, you…”

As their eyes met, Yum Sang-rok froze, stepping back in horror.

His eyes, filled with fear, stared at Jin Ga-hee.

“Could it be… that you’ve reincarnated how many times…?”

Her pupils were shockingly clear.

“Five hundred sixty…”

“What?!”

Five hundred sixty?

Yum Sang-rok could hardly believe it.

Just regaining memories from eight past lives was enough to make his head feel like it was about to explode. How could someone have reincarnated five hundred sixty times?

“Ah, the presence…”

Only then did Yum Sang-rok remember the concept of “existence” that he had heard from Jo Hwi.

Even with the memories of just eight lives, there had been an astonishing change in existence.

How much greater would the existence of Jin Ga-hee be, who had experienced five hundred sixty lives?

“Ga-hee… no, Ga-hee unni…”

Jin Ga-hee, smiling kindly like a mother, gently patted Baek Hwa-rin’s head.

“That’s right. Hwa-rin, my little sister.”

Baek Hwa-rin instinctively felt it.

She now understood that she could be destroyed with just a single gesture from Jin Ga-hee.

Zhegalun nodded quietly toward the group that had come to find him.

“The Law of Forgetting Memory has disappeared.”

“The Law of Forgetting Memory?”

Now that they thought about it, they had all heard of it from Jo Hwi.

Humans had the right to reincarnate, but one of the unavoidable stages of reincarnation was the “Law of Forgetting Memory.”

As they repeated their reincarnations, the process of their memories being wiped out was an unavoidable cosmic law that no human could change.

“But isn’t that the law of all things in the universe? Isn’t it something that can’t be broken?” Baek Hwa-rin asked, puzzled.

Zhegalun smiled faintly and pointed to her forehead.

“Of course, the cause is the Dalmajin-Gyeong.”

Baek Hwa-rin, touching the Neuralink chip embedded in her forehead, asked, “Is it because of this?”

“The power of the Dalmajin-Gyeong isn’t just to awaken a person’s extrasensory abilities and turn them into an Awakened One. If that was all, there wouldn’t have been such a long period of research to create it.”

Yum Sang-rok spoke up.

“So, all of this is part of Jo Hwi’s plan?”

However, Zhegalun’s face was now filled with doubt.

“Yes, but just because someone has the Dalmajin-Gyeong embedded in their body doesn’t mean they’ll definitely get the benefits. It’s not a certainty.”

“Then we must be lucky. All three of us have had the Law of Forgetting Memory removed.”

Suddenly, Zhegalun seemed to remind everyone.

“To complete this, he went through unimaginable experiments over an incredibly long period. At least, we shouldn’t curse his evil deeds. Even now, that guy is a soul thoroughly shattered.”

“…….”

“Anyway, now that the weakness of mortality is gone, what do you think? According to Jo Hwi, a person who has reincarnated more than a hundred times can rival the celestial beings, the Constellations!”

Yum Sang-rok let out a bitter laugh.

“Unfortunately, I’m not that great. Only eight lives for me.”

“Well, it can’t be helped. What about you?” Baek Hwa-rin shook her head.

“Mine’s only five,” she replied.

Zhegalun clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Your souls are at a child’s level. With that kind of existence, you’ll never be able to match the Constellations. If a Celestial War breaks out, you must be extra careful. If your souls are consumed, you’ll never be able to reincarnate again. That’s the true end.”

“Got it,” they said.

“Tch.”

Zhegalun turned his gaze toward Jin Ga-hee.

“Be careful, too. It’s not a problem if your body is destroyed and you die. But you must never let yourself be consumed. Understand?”

“I remember everything.”

“What memories?”

Yum Sang-rok smiled meaningfully.

“She’s been reincarnating since before humans ever began to deal with bronze.”

Zhegalun was shocked.

“What… What did you say?”

If she had reincarnated before dealing with bronze, that would be an era so ancient, it couldn’t even be called simply “ancient,” but an almost unfathomable past.

“How many reincarnations are we talking about?”

“Five hundred sixty.”

“What?!”

Jo Hwi had said that even a person who had repeated their life a hundred times could rival the Constellations, but five hundred sixty times? That was unimaginable.

No one had heard of someone repeating their life so many times—not even Jo Hwi.

It was clear that Jin Ga-hee was someone who even Jo Hwi had never experienced.

Zhegalun, realizing he was face to face with someone who had lived through the ancient or even mythical ages, couldn’t help but feel a sense of reverence.

He wanted to hear all of her experiences, even if it meant staying up all night, but Zhegalun couldn’t.

Her face was filled with such sadness that it stopped him from asking more.

“I need to find the gap. We must assist with the night operation immediately.”

“What?”

“If we don’t stop his harvest, everything will be over.”

Zhegalun stared blankly, his mouth agape.

Jo Hwi had left to gather information on the Constellations’ movements, while the mission to find the “harvesting gap” was the task of the night operation, and preparing for the final showdown was his responsibility. Everyone who worked with Jo Hwi knew this well.

Suddenly, Zhegalun looked like he realized something and was stunned.

“Could it be…?”

Jin Ga-hee slowly nodded.

“Yes. I’m someone who has already experienced total annihilation.”

In an instant, fragments of the past surfaced in Jin Ga-hee’s mind.

The powerful Constellation of the Western Galaxy, the “Mysterious Cloud,” unleashed infinite liquid—water.

At that time, people had never seen water fall from the sky, so they were simply amazed and stared up at the sky in awe.

How could people have known that this mysterious phenomenon would last for more than 150 days?

As the world became submerged in water, people gathered at the highest places on earth.

It was a hellish chaos.

On the ever-shrinking land, fathers pushed their sons to prevent drowning, and daughters stepped on their mothers to climb higher.

At the point when people’s sobs, screams, and cries of fear filled the air, countless Constellations appeared in the sky, radiating brilliant light.

Everyone cheered, thinking that they had been saved, believing it was the arrival of the gods, but it was a perfect illusion.

The highest land on earth was humanity’s final altar.

A feast.

The Constellations devoured the people alive along with their souls, eagerly enjoying their final supper.

It only took three days.

In just three days, millions of humans were consumed alive, and their annihilation was complete.

“My God…”

“Ugh…”

Jo Hwi’s companions froze in terror as they listened to Jin Ga-hee’s horrific description.

“But luckily, there was a boat. Of course, it was made by him. If it hadn’t been for that boat… humanity’s history would have ended right there.”

Everyone was speechless, shocked, and unable to say anything when Jin Ga-hee sighed and drew something in the air with her finger.

舟.

The character she drew was the word for “boat.”

Once more, Jin Ga-hee drew with her finger.

Paf-paf—

Where the character for “boat” had been, a new character was now inscribed.

“The surviving people changed the character for the boat. ‘Eight humans, born anew from the boat.'”

船.

Zhegalun stared at the character for “ship” and clenched his fist tightly.

“Are you saying only eight people survived?”

“Yes. Every person alive today is a descendant of those eight survivors.”

The ancient people, whose souls and bodies were mercilessly torn apart and turned into mere snacks for the Constellations, were depicted vividly through Jin Ga-hee’s words, a description that bordered on madness, not just terror.

Zhegalun, trembling with rage, looked at Jin Ga-hee once more.

“So, the one who made that boat back then… was it Jo Hwi?”

“The child who always cried when looking at people. We all called him ‘Nu-a’ (Tears).”

“Child?”

“Yes. He was always in the form of a child.”

Jin Ga-hee, as if recalling a distant memory, wiped her reddened eyes and spoke again.

“He was a child, but he was also a colossal being. He sacrificed himself to protect the remaining eight people.”

“What kind of sacrifice?”

Zhegalun’s question was met with silence.

Jin Ga-hee didn’t answer. Zhegalun realized from the expression on her face that he would never get an answer about that sacrifice.

It was a memory she could not speak of, perhaps one that was too painful to even utter.

“The harvesting gap is an existence more dangerous than he could ever imagine. That being holds the key to all causality. We must focus all our efforts on finding him, no matter what else is happening.”

Zhegalun furrowed his brows.

“But if we can’t stop the annihilation, and the underground caves are our only hope, we need to prepare for the worst. All of this is part of the plan we made with him.”

Jin Ga-hee’s eyes glowed with intensity.

“We must tie up all the loose ends. If we leave it as it is, his reincarnation will only continue to repeat itself. Do you want him to keep suffering like this?”

Zhegalun could not speak in response to her cold voice.

His mind had always been consumed with preparations for annihilation, and he had never really considered Jo Hwi’s feelings.

“How many times do you think he’s been reincarnated?”

“……”

Jin Ga-hee suddenly looked up at the sky with sad eyes.

“Each time he reincarnates, he always awakens by making his past life his enemy. He endures with hatred towards himself as his collapsing identity is held together by self-loathing.”

Zhegalun was well aware of this.

Jo Hwi had sharpened his mind by hating the Celestials even in this life.

But in reality, there was no causal relationship that would warrant hatred for the Celestials. There was no real reason for him to despise them.

But why did he hate them so much and pursue them?

It was because the elders in the Blood Abyss had continually fed Jo Hwi malicious information, filling his heart with hatred toward the Celestials.

In fact, all of this had been set up by the connections of his past lives, a giant play carefully orchestrated by Jo Hwi himself.

“How long do you think he can hold on? Even back in the time of Nu-a, he was enduring with the pure self of a child.”

“Hmm…”

“Because of his own choices, the human race was doomed to repeat extinction. Even if he’s a divine being, it’s impossible for him to keep bearing that original sin. If his identity collapses…”

Jin Ga-hee’s voice continued.

“A cosmic catastrophe, far greater than the extinction of the human race, may occur.”

Suddenly, Zhegalun’s mind flashed with Jo Hwi’s divine name.

“The One Who Denies Existence.”

If he loses his beliefs and his sense of self, and only his pure existence remains, becoming a tyrant of the universe, what will happen then?

It would mean the complete negation of all existence.

If he were to live eternally, denying every dimension and world…

The God of Destruction.

The rise of the ultimate evil.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought came to Zhegalun, and he spoke in a heavy voice, trembling.

“It wasn’t just about the humans, was it?”

“That’s right. We must help him now.”

After contemplating deeply, Zhegalun seemed to come to a decision and folded the golden phoenix thread.

“For now, since the most important person, Xian Weigong, has made his decision, I will proceed to gather the key figures of the Central Plains through this general. The rest of you, depart immediately.”

Yeom Sang-rok cautiously turned to Jin Ga-hee and asked.

“Then, how do we find him?”

At that moment.

Tzzt-zzzt-zzzt-

A blood-red mist emanated from Jin Ga-hee’s body, transforming into countless ancient characters that swirled wildly in the air.

“Ga-hee!”

The sheer intensity of the aura Jin Ga-hee was releasing was beyond anything imaginable.

But then, her physical form began to change into something entirely different.

“Gah…!”

As the reddish smoke cleared, her lower body was revealed to have transformed into that of a serpent.

“We go.”

Her gaze, fixed on the distant western sky, glowed with an eerie light.

The blood-red characters floating in the air scattered in all directions, encircling the bodies of the key figures.

***

“Hmm…”

Jo Hwi, staring intently at the northern sky, suddenly felt a strange sensation.

It was a strange déjà vu, something that couldn’t be put into words, and an unsettling feeling that he couldn’t shake.

At that moment.

Zzzzzzzzzzt-

With a thunderous sound, the northern sky tore open entirely.

Beyond the tear, Jo Hwi saw the familiar world of the Void.

He instantly recognized it as the dimension of the Constellations.

“Ha…”

A dimensional rift, something he had experienced countless times before.

The cosmic laws had broken, and creators who could no longer bear the betrayal wept in unison as they looked upon this cursed land.

Countless eyes, an overwhelming presence, gazed upon him.

Feeling their eyes upon him, Jo Hwi met their gaze calmly.

To them, this might be their first experience of betrayal, but to him, it was the beginning of another Celestial War, one he had endured many times.

It wasn’t good.

If only there had been more time, he could have awakened more people from the Central Plains.

Jo Hwi slowly flew toward the rift, approaching its edge.

Of course, the Constellations did not recklessly invade.

If they were to reveal themselves to him, their existence would be denied immediately.

As long as he remained near the rift, they could not descend to this land.

The problem was the Harvesting Gap, that being.

While he stood guard over the rift, that being would continue to consume the souls of millions.

This was the meticulous plan that being had been executing repeatedly.

What if Jo Hwi couldn’t hold back and sought the Harvesting Gap?

The greedy Constellations would never miss that opportunity.

If Jo Hwi were to leave the rift unguarded, countless Constellations would pour into the world.

In the many Celestial Wars of the past, Jo Hwi had never once overcome this dilemma.

But this life was different.

For the first time, he was using a perfectly completed Neuralink chip.

The past Celestial Wars, where he had been forced to use an incomplete chip, would surely play out differently this time.

If things went according to plan…

At that moment.

“Nu-a.”

A trembling voice from a woman echoed behind him.

A name from long ago.

An unfamiliar emotion rose within him, and a single tear fell.

Jo Hwi slowly turned around.

The face before him was undoubtedly Jin Ga-hee’s, but the aura radiating from her was completely different from what he had known.

“…Yeowa?”

The name was distant and nostalgic.

Yeowa, the progenitor of the Yao, was one of the people Jo Hwi had loved most in all his countless lives.

“Yes! It’s you, Yeowa!”

As the reddish mist that surrounded her body cleared, a smooth serpentine lower body was revealed.

It was the unique form of Yeowa when she used her Tianyao power, the exact appearance Jo Hwi remembered from long ago.

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you, even though you were right beside me…”

Jo Hwi, his eyes brimming with tears.

Who could have imagined that Jin Ga-hee was Yeowa from back then?

Jin Ga-hee, or rather Yeowa, turned her gaze coldly toward the rift, her expression hardening.

“It’s begun.”

The moment a brilliant light poured from the rift, the descent of the Constellations would begin.

It was exactly like the dimensional rift he had seen from the highest point of the world all those years ago.

“Sorry, Yeowa.”

“What for?”

Jo Hwi followed Yeowa’s gaze as they both looked at the rift.

“Nothing has changed, has it?”

“Stop it.”

“Do you know how lonely and painful the lives of the ‘eight’ of you must have been? I know everything.”

Jo Hwi’s face was marked with sadness, his voice growing bitter.

But Yeowa smiled brightly.

“What are you talking about? We really survived and were happy. Our descendants blessed and admired us.”

Jo Hwi let out a faint chuckle.

“Yeah, I was shocked too. The eight siblings from Alakfakata Village really made something of themselves.”

Yeowa seemed lost in thought as memories resurfaced.

“We trained with the methods Nu-a taught us. We lived far beyond our lifespans. We taught our descendants how to fish, how to shoot arrows, how to farm, how to control fire and water…”

“I know. I’ve heard the legends of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors. You learned all that after reincarnating. And the ship? Was that you?”

“We wanted to remember Nu-a.”

“Dammit…”

The incessant tears flowing down prove this overwhelming emotion.

Even if one becomes a god or a seat of power, human emotions remain eternal.

The reason one can never abandon humanity, even through infinite time, is precisely because of this.

“Will you once again plunge the ones left behind into sorrow?”

Jin Ga-hee’s sorrowful eyes were now fixed on their companions below.

Namgung Jang-ho, who was silently gazing upward in his giant form.

Jang Il-ryong, whose muscles kept twitching, and Zhegalun, fluttering the golden phoenix thread.

Yeom Sang-rok, shaking his legs restlessly, and Baek Hwa-rin, licking his lips as he watched her.

Each of their faces overlapped with those of the ‘eight people’ from past memories.

Just like before, she still wants to save them.

But if this Celestial War is destined to repeat again and again…

Could that truly be called ‘saving humanity’?

Jo Hwi could not answer that.

He tried to stop the extinction fate that hung over humanity, but it was always just futile struggling.

“Are you really going to make that foolish choice again?”

Jo Hwi, who had been lost in thought, sighed and opened his mouth.

“I have no choice.”

“Are you going to sacrifice yourself once again? Do you truly not understand how that will end?”

At that moment.

“Siddhartha.”

The person flying towards Jo Hwi and Jin Ga-hee was none other than the Zihyajomseong (Purple Mist Sword Saint), Dan Cheon-yang.

But even so, his presence was not that of his original self.

“Kalama?”

A tremendous presence, one that could rival Yeowa, was radiating from him.

He too was another version of Yeowa and Zhegalun from a past Celestial War.

Before Jo Hwi could reflect on the situation, Dan Cheon-yang spoke coldly.

“Siddhartha. No.”

“Why… you too?”

Dan Cheon-yang lowered his eyes and said gravely.

“Accept humanity’s extinction. It’s better than Siddhartha making another ‘deal.'”

“I…”

Unable to continue his words, Jo Hwi froze with a complex expression.

Dan Cheon-yang spoke more firmly.

“Siddhartha, no, Jo Hwi-gong. Think carefully. Consider what consequences your actions to save humanity have brought.”

Dan Cheon-yang’s gaze briefly swept over Jo Hwi’s companions before looking across the vast Central Plains.

“Jo Hwi-gong, this time, your plan was flawless. You have the perfect Dalmajin-gyeong, the greatest awakening group ever, and even one of the highest beings of humanity, one of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, has achieved true enlightenment.”

Jo Hwi was aware of this.

He knew how powerful Yeowa’s presence was, having reincarnated from the mythical era.

Her power was enough to overwhelm many of the Constellations.

“But in the end, you will lose once again. Those treacherous seats will never share their immortality with humans.”

At that moment, Namgung Jang-ho, still in his giant form, expressed his confusion.

“Senior, what does that mean?”

Dan Cheon-yang’s eyes, filled with deep regret, turned toward the enormous Namgung Jang-ho.

“The reincarnation calamity that the humans are going through right now… it’s all thanks to Siddhartha… no, Jo Hwi-gong’s great grace.”

His voice, filled with inner strength, was clearly heard by all the companions below.

“What do you mean the reincarnation of humans is due to his grace?”

Dan Cheon-yang slowly descended toward Zhegalun, who had asked with a bewildered expression.

All of Jo Hwi’s companions were now focused intently on Dan Cheon-yang.

“Those of you who know Jo Hwi-gong can’t even imagine the cosmic scale of his existence…”

“We know too. But because he doesn’t wish for the recognition, we treat him casually, as usual.”

Dan Cheon-yang looked at Jo Hwi with a complex expression, filled with deep thought.

“Originally, humans, like countless other lower species in the universe, were insignificant.”

“Those damn bastards…”

Yeom Sang-rok grumbled, furrowing his brow.

It was never pleasant to hear that the Constellations viewed humans as little more than insects.

“Originally, Jo Hwi-gong was meant to transcend even the rank of the Seats and rise to the level of a Creator. But he gave up that right on his own.”

“What?”

Yeom Sang-rok’s expression was one of utter disbelief.

A Creator, an existence above even the Constellations.

A being capable of creating worlds and giving birth to life, a true godly status.

Why would such an incredible path be rejected?

“Why did he make that decision…?”

“He loved them endlessly.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

Dan Cheon-yang, standing high in the sky on his sword, gazed at Jo Hwi with a wistful expression.

“He loved the passion of humans, those flame-like lives. He understood the value of human life better than anyone else.”

Jo Hwi often spoke about the “flame of human life.”

His comrades had heard it so many times that it had become a common refrain.

“So, he wanted those flames of human life to burn brighter. He wanted to share his own essence with humanity.”

“His essence?”

“The essence of the Constellations, immortality.”

“Huh?”

Zhegalun, who had been silently listening, froze in shock.

The criterion for dividing the Constellations and lower species was incredibly simple.

Is their life eternal?

Only those with an existence equal to the stars of the universe, the Constellations, could enjoy such a privilege.

Lower species, no matter how hard they struggled, could not escape the limitations of death—mortality.

“But even a being destined to be a Creator couldn’t break the laws of the universe. So, to gain the immortality of the Constellations, Jo Hwi-gong gave up the right to become a Creator in exchange for granting humanity ‘reincarnation’ instead of immortality.”

“Ah…!”

“Reincarnation means certain death, but rebirth. It’s an ambiguous power, neither immortality nor mortality. It was a sort of loophole.”

The shock of learning that reincarnation was not a right passed down from the beginning of humanity left Jo Hwi’s companions staring blankly at the sky.

Human life, which was supposed to be finite, was no longer bound by the limits of one life!

“But the side effects soon appeared. Reincarnation became almost like immortality, granting humans the same conditions as the Constellations.”

“Then!”

Zhegalun, as if realizing something, spoke up.

“Constellations among humans who broke through their limits were born in countless numbers!”

Dan Cheon-yang nodded gravely.

“Yes. As time passed, more and more Constellations were bound to emerge from humanity. Eventually, they began to reject the laws of the Creators.”

“Reject?”

“After that, the Constellations no longer trusted or followed the ‘laws’ of the Creators. The immortality granted to humans through reincarnation made the absolute law of the universe meaningless. Moreover, the continuous birth of Constellations from a lower species meant that they would form a group and gain power. This threatened the cosmic order, and their demand was to rescind the strange law of reincarnation.”

Jang Il-ryong swallowed nervously and asked.

“So, what happened?”

“The laws set by the Creators had been created but never revoked. Naturally, the demands of the Constellations were rejected.”

Zhegalun’s heavy voice continued.

“Eventually, the Celestial War broke out.”

“Exactly as you saw.”

Dan Cheon-yang’s voice was filled with regret.

“In the end, after such a cosmic tragedy and catastrophe, Jo Hwi-gong had no choice but to accept a deal. He loved humanity too much to endure its extinction.”

“This deal… was it…?”

Dan Cheon-yang nodded solemnly.

“Yes. A restriction was placed on human reincarnation.”

“The Law of Oblivion!”

The annihilation of memory was a mortal trait.

Thus, humans had to live in a strange form, unable to awaken their true selves unless they regained their memories.

“Even so, Jo Hwi-gong didn’t give up. Through countless experiments over many years, and with the technology of the future, he created Dalmajin-gyeong to awaken humanity.”

At this point, a question inevitably arose.

Zhegalun’s bewildered gaze turned back to Jo Hwi.

“But… why go to such lengths?”

To call it love for humans would be an understatement— it was an obsessive, blind fixation.

In response to Zhegalun’s question, Jo Hwi answered directly.

“Why did I become one who denies all existence?”

Jo Hwi’s gaze toward his companions, or rather toward humanity, was deeply introspective.

“I have seen everything. I have witnessed the path that the Constellations, those beings, have taken.”

The unimaginable fury emanating from Jo Hwi.

“Their game, in the end, is nothing more than violation. The screams mixed with agony, the terrible despair, the desperate struggles of those broken souls— is it right for them to be trampled underfoot for the sake of those beings’ ‘amusement’?”

At that moment, Zhegalun felt a chill run down his spine.

“Wait, do you mean…?”

Dan Cheon-yang, who had been watching quietly, nodded solemnly.

“Yes. What Jo Hwi truly desires is the annihilation of all the Constellations.”

Zhegalun’s face froze, filled with disbelief.

“Is that even possible?”

Indeed, Jo Hwi had once said that the number of Constellations was either proportional to or even greater than the countless lower species of the universe.

This meant that there were far more Constellations than all the humans in the Middle Kingdom, the Western Regions, the East, and the Southern Barbarian lands combined.

If the number of divine Constellations surpassed that of humanity, no matter how many allies Jo Hwi gathered, the human side would be powerless.

“No,” Dan Cheon-yang shook his head, causing Zhegalun’s face to turn puzzled.

“What do you mean by that…?”

“Apparently, you, as Jo Hwi’s close comrade, still don’t understand him fully.”

“Excuse me?”

Dan Cheon-yang gazed at Jo Hwi with a look of awe.

“A being who denies existence. His divine name may belong to the Constellations, but in essence, he is close to being a Creator. His power, the ability to erase the existence of the Constellations, is unique even in this vast universe.”

“I understand. But…”

“No, you don’t understand. The gap between a Constellation and a Creator is enormous.”

Dan Cheon-yang’s voice grew heavier.

“The reason the Constellations so readily accepted Jo Hwi’s offer to relinquish his position as a Creator was because of another factor. Jo Hwi’s existence was indeed close to that of a Creator, but unlike other Creators, his abilities lacked the attribute of creation.”

“Ah…”

“Had Jo Hwi ascended to the rank of a Creator, his divine power would have been that of a ‘Destroyer,’ not a Creator.”

A Destroyer!

The power to negate existence was, in essence, the ‘authority of destruction.’

It was perhaps the birth of absolute evil.

Namgung Jangho spoke.

Does this mean your power can affect even the Creators?

Jo Hwi grinned.

“I’ve never tried.”

Why not? Wouldn’t the quickest path be to deal with the ones controlling the ‘laws’ rather than eliminate the Constellations?

“Because it’s meaningless. Just as I can live through countless timelines, they too can manipulate time. The ability to control time is exclusive to the Creators.”

Hmm…

Given that Creators can manipulate time, Jo Hwi could simply escape to a time before he negated their existence.

In fact, the reason the Constellation alliance, despite being stronger than Jo Hwi, could not defeat him was because of his ability to manipulate time— a nearly invincible skill.

“Then, ultimately, the reason the Constellations want to exterminate humanity is to restore the order of the universe, right?”

Jo Hwi shook his head coldly at Zhegalun’s question.

“If their goal of restoring order was truly pure, perhaps I… would have given up on humanity.”

With no hesitation, Jo Hwi coldly admitted that he would have stood by and watched humanity’s annihilation.

It was then that Zhegalun finally saw Jo Hwi, not just as a comrade, but as a being of divine status.

“Jo Hwi, please stop. As you said, just give up now.”

Jo Hwi glared at Dan Cheon-yang as if he wanted to kill him.

“Are you suggesting I accept that deal again?”

Zhegalun asked Jo Hwi.

“What is this deal you keep mentioning?”

Jo Hwi, avoiding his gaze, twisted his face in a grimace as though he didn’t want to talk about it.

His face, filled with volcanic fury, resembled a demon’s, and Zhegalun dared not ask further.

Finally, Dan Cheon-yang sighed and spoke.

“If we cannot undo the ‘laws of the universe,’ then the only remaining option is to place countless restrictions upon them.”

“The Law of Oblivion?” Zhegalun asked.

“Your timeline is already under the Law of Oblivion. If Jo Hwi wanted to remove it, he would have gone to a time before the ‘Destruction of Water.’”

This meant that Jo Hwi had endured the Law of Oblivion himself.

So what is it that you’re trying to remove by coming to our world?

In response to Namgung Jangho’s question, Jo Hwi’s gloomy gaze pierced the pale void.

“The Law of Transformation.”

The Law of Transformation? What does that mean?

“It means that you could reincarnate as a frog or a snake.”

Indeed.

Depending on the actions taken in one’s current life, a person could be reborn as a trivial creature or reincarnate as a human again.

This was the true teaching of reincarnation as described by Buddhism.

Why is this a restriction for humans?

“Reincarnation as a lesser being means changing your species.”

At Jo Hwi’s response, Zhegalun’s face grew pale.

“Existence…”

“Yes. All the existence you gained through reincarnation as a human would be lost.”