The Heavenly Demon can't live a normal life

A sudden summons.

The high-ranking nobles, including the Marquis of Memphis, gathered with unease, their expressions heavy with concern over Emperor Kronos's decree—one that felt almost unholy in nature.

'According to the latest report, Duke Bamford's 300,000-strong army suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Dmitry.

All of Kronos' knights, including Hannibal, have been wiped out. His Majesty must be seething with rage…'

'Damn that Duke of Bamford! He was so certain of victory—how could such an absurd outcome have occurred?!'

None of them had witnessed the battlefield.

They did not know.

Had they seen Roman Dmitry carve through entire battalions single-handedly, had they witnessed the emergence of Isabel, Queen of Luna, and the overwhelming divine power she commanded, they would not have been so quick to condemn Duke Bamford's leadership.

What they did know was this—

The Kronos Empire had suffered a humiliating defeat.

And Emperor Kronos, a ruler who never tolerated anything that challenged the empire's supremacy, was certain to unleash his wrath over such a disgrace.

"His Majesty the Emperor enters."

At the servant's words, the conference room fell deathly silent.

A freezing tension gripped the air.

Yet, as Emperor Kronos stepped forward, escorted by his guards, the nobles immediately sensed something was off.

His presence was different.

Indifference, cruelty, an aura of absolute dominance—this was the Emperor Kronos they had always known.

But today…

His expression carried an unusual vitality.

There was no detached coldness, no veil of apathy that often made people question whether he truly cared for human affairs. Instead, his gaze swept across the room, meeting the eyes of each noble with a sharp intensity that felt unsettlingly foreign.

They couldn't pinpoint the change.

His appearance remained the same, his voice unchanged—yet an inexplicable feeling of unease gnawed at them.

The emperor took his seat at the head of the table.

After acknowledging their formal greetings, he spoke—

And what he said sent a shockwave through the room.

"This war was born from injustice. I fully recognize that responsibility… and I will declare a ceasefire."

A stunned silence followed.

"What… did you just say?"

"Your Majesty, the war has already begun. Even though we suffered a defeat against Dmitry, our forces are already advancing into Umberto and Odelia.

If we halt now—if we declare a truce—it will be an act of submission! Dmitry alone cannot be left unpunished, let alone the rest of the continent. We cannot back down like this!"

The room erupted into murmurs of discontent.

No one would have dared to question the emperor under normal circumstances. But his incomprehensible decision left them too bewildered to remain silent.

It made no sense.

The Kronos Empire's goal was to conquer the continent, and this war was supposed to be the first step toward that dream.

A single defeat on the Western Front did not determine the war's outcome. While all eyes were on Dmitry, the empire's other military operations were proceeding as planned. If they continued as they were, there was still a chance to turn the tides.

A truce?

It was unthinkable.

The murmurs grew louder, frustration boiling over—until Emperor Kronos slowly turned his gaze toward them.

"So… are you saying you wish to rebel?"

The words dropped like a guillotine blade.

Instantly, the room fell into absolute silence.

All opposition vanished.

The Marquis of Memphis, one of the most powerful figures in the empire, immediately bowed his head—his face pale as death.

"...Absolutely not. We will obey His Majesty's command. The ceasefire will be arranged at once."

A truce.

The world did not yet know.

But the fate of the war had just taken an unexpected turn—one decided solely by Emperor Kronos.

******

The capital of Cairo, Kairos, was alive with celebration. The streets buzzed with excitement as the news of victory from the Western Front spread like wildfire.

Among the jubilant citizens, Roman Dmitry moved through the warp gate, receiving cheers and admiration from the people. Yet, he did not pause to revel in the moment—his focus was on the meeting ahead.

As he arrived at the designated location, a formal introduction took place.

"This is Roman Dmitry of the Principality of Dmitry."

"I am Isabel, Queen of the Kingdom of Luna."

Isabel.

A being unlike any other.

There was something about her—an aura, a presence that set her apart from ordinary humans. Roman Dmitry had sensed it from the beginning, and now, standing before her, he decided to seek the truth directly.

"I have received an overview of the situation," he said. "But let me ask you plainly—what is the truth that Kronos is hiding?"

His voice was firm, cutting straight to the core of the matter.

"In the war against Kronos, I encountered a group known as 'Shadows.' Today, I learned that these so-called shadows are historical figures—Sven, Mystic, Shefir, and even Alexander. People who should no longer exist in this world are still walking among us. Is this connected to the Kronos Empire's dealings with 'black magic'?"

There were countless questions he could ask—the relationship between Kronos and Luna, the reason he had never encountered Isabel's existence before.

His words carried the weight of many inquiries, yet Isabel did not respond immediately. She studied Roman Dmitry's eyes, as if searching for something.

Then, she spoke.

"To fully understand what has happened, you must first hear the oracles that have been passed down through generations."

Her voice was steady, unwavering.

"The oracle speaks of a time long ago. A gate opened—a door to the world beyond. It is said that from this gate, a frigid energy seeped into the land, freezing the world in an eternal winter. A disaster was left behind, one that would linger forever. Soon after, the World Tree, which stands beyond the endless mountain range, became encased in ice."

The words struck a chord.

The dwarves had spoken of something similar—Arcadia was dying because the World Tree had frozen.

But Isabel's knowledge went beyond that of the dwarves.

"What do you think this 'disaster' truly was?" she asked. "Cold? Disease? Death?"

She shook her head.

"No. The disaster was a single human being—someone who fell to the Salamander Continent through the Gate of the World. That was the beginning. A man, overflowing with greed and ambition, took hold of the Kronos Empire and fed upon the power of darkness. By the time we realized the threat he posed, he had already reached a point where he was beyond physical control.

My ancestors took on the role of guardians, containing his power and preventing him from running rampant. But now… he has become too strong. We can no longer stop him."

For most, it would have been an unfathomable tale—a human who crossed dimensions?

But Roman Dmitry was different.

Before this life, he was Baek Joong-Hyuk, the Heavenly Demon. The notion of crossing dimensions was not something he could dismiss.

He had wondered for years—was he truly the first to experience this?

Had there been others before him?

If so, what kind of life were they living?

His mind was flooded with questions, but one demanded an immediate answer.

"Who is this being?"

Isabel's golden hair shimmered as she spoke his name.

"His name is Alexander. Emperor of the Kronos Empire. The man who created Aura."

A shocking truth.

Alexander… was a being who had crossed dimensions?

Roman Dmitry's thoughts raced.

'Until Emperor Alexander appeared, the people of the Salamander Continent believed mana was exclusive to wizards. But he changed everything. He reshaped the entire system, birthing aura swordsmen and revolutionizing the power of knights.'

There was no doubt now.

The man who crossed dimensions—the first to introduce aura—was likely someone who already understood how to manipulate mana from the very beginning.

Which meant—

'He may be from the same Murim world as me.'

It was only a hypothesis, but Isabel's next words confirmed his suspicions.

"Emperor Alexander is a being possessed by a soul from another dimension. When he first appeared in this world, he revealed something—according to traditions passed down for generations, Alexander stated that he was not of Kronos's royal bloodline. His true name, difficult to pronounce in this land, was 'Kim Pan-Seok.'

That is the truth I know."

Kim Pan-Seok.

The final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Alexander was not merely similar to Roman Dmitry.

He was a man from Murim—just like Baek Joong-Hyuk, the Heavenly Demon.

* * *

A gloomy space filled with an ominous stillness.

It was here that a mysterious entity had once commanded the attack on Dmitry. But now, unlike before, that same entity's fury was directed toward Mystic, who knelt before him.

"So, Emperor Kronos declared a truce?"

"Yes. It seems the link was severed. I lost control of his body for a moment…"

"A persistent man," the being muttered darkly. "For generations, the emperors of Kronos have followed my will. Yet this time, the emperor's consciousness refuses to fade completely, likely because he has awakened the five-star aura. But it does not matter. The link was only broken due to the shock of Shefir's death. He may resist for a day or two at most… and then, he will be mine again."

Mystic hesitated before asking, "Emperor Alexander… how should we handle Roman Dmitry?"

The mention of the name made Alexander's face contort, his expression darkening with rage.

Roman Dmitry.

An unexpected problem.

When he first heard of him, Alexander had dismissed him as nothing more than an annoying obstacle. But after witnessing Roman Dmitry through Shefir's 'eyes,' his perception had changed.

Doubt turned to certainty.

There was no mistaking it—the power Roman Dmitry wielded was from Murim, just like his own.

But there was something Alexander did not understand.

He had no knowledge of what kind of martial arts Roman Dmitry possessed.

Because unlike him—

Unlike Kim Pan-Seok—

When Alexander lived in Murim, he was nothing more than a nameless commoner.

Kim Pan-Seok.

A nobody, an insignificant man who had lived at the foot of the Hundred Thousand Mountains, scraping by just to survive. Like many others, he climbed the mountains to pick herbs and forage for food. That was his life.

But then, on one fateful day, the sky changed.

Dark clouds swirled above as if the heavens themselves had become enraged. He watched in awe as something invisible tore through the sky—something vast and unknowable.

And before he could react—

He was pulled in.

The moment he awoke, people surrounded him, calling him by a name that was not his own.

"Alexander."

At first, he was confused.

He did not understand why they addressed him as Alexander, nor could he grasp the reality of the world he had been thrown into. This land had nothing to do with Murim.

But soon, he realized—

This was an opportunity.

In Murim, he had lived a pitiful life, struggling for survival every single day. But here?

Here, he was born into royalty.

He was the son of an emperor.

For the first time in his life, he was someone. People bowed before him, lavished him with praise, and sought his favor. Every moment felt like a dream.

And he wanted more.

He wanted to hold onto this power forever.

But reality struck back.

No matter how much he coveted the throne, no matter how much he desired power, he was not the legitimate heir.

His blood was not pure enough. His standing was not strong enough.

His ignorance was his weakness, and his Murim past was meaningless in this world.

It was only then that he realized—

If he had known even third-rate martial arts back in Murim, he would have been unstoppable here.

The people of Salamander Continent had no understanding of martial arts. They saw mana as something exclusive to wizards. If he had only possessed the knowledge, he could have revolutionized the very structure of power in this world.

He regretted it.

Every single day, he regretted the wasted years of his past life.

And so, he became obsessed.

Kim Pan-Seok locked himself away in his chambers, desperately trying to recall even fragments of Murim's knowledge.

But he was just a commoner.

He had never studied martial arts.

He had only ever bowed his head before the true masters of Murim—the ones everyone revered.

And then, he remembered.

A memory buried deep within his past.

That moment when he had lowered his head in devotion, joining the voices that echoed through the streets.

"All hail the Heavenly Demon! The supreme ruler of all under heaven!"

"Boundless is his might—may his reign be eternal!"

If only.

If only he had been that man.

Wouldn't his life as Alexander have been different?

The thought burned him from the inside.

In Murim, he had been nothing. A man who barely survived in the slums, scraping for food, crawling in the dirt. But in this world?

Here, he was royalty.

And he wanted more.

Even though he was given wealth and power beyond imagination, his greed only grew.

That was when he recalled something—a passing remark from a third-rate Murim warrior he had once overheard on the streets.

"Martial arts is simple. The key lies in the energy within the body…"

At the time, those words meant nothing to him.

But now—now, they held everything.

With no understanding of the truth, Kim Pan-Seok clung desperately to that one fragment of knowledge.

It started with failure.

He captured slaves, conducting endless experiments upon them.

The bodies piled up like mountains.

Until one day—it happened.

The moment he saw mana physically manifesting as an aura, his eyes widened with a madness that had never been there before.

"...This is it!"

That day—

The legend of Alexander, the Founder of Aura, was born.

The world hailed him as the creator of the system that knights now followed.