Night hung heavy over the Eastern Cloud Sect.
The usual quiet hum of insects and wind brushing the trees was absent tonight. Something in the air felt still—like the mountains themselves were holding their breath. Itsuki sat alone beneath a paper lantern in the outer courtyard, nursing the soreness in his limbs from the day's duels. His first win still buzzed faintly in his chest like a spark refusing to die out.
But he wasn't relaxed.
Not fully.
That girl from earlier—the inner disciple—had unsettled him.
"You weren't fighting like Jinhwan."
He turned the words over again and again.
Who was he fighting like, then? Himself?
And why did the system say his divergence level was 7%?
How much can I change before something tries to change me back?
He opened the interface again with a thought. A flicker of light appeared in the darkness of his mind, and the digital shelves of the Grand Archive spread out like a galaxy of knowledge.
But something was off.
One book on the second-highest shelf—one he knew should be locked due to power restrictions—was glowing.
It pulsed faintly, as if beckoning him.
Itsuki narrowed his eyes and hovered closer mentally.
[Advanced Forbidden Martial Codex - Sectless Origin: The Widow's Pulse]
The title alone screamed danger.
He focused on it.
A warning screen appeared.
Warning: Accessing content outside your tier may result in body rejection, qi disruption, or death.
Override granted: One-Time Access – Anomaly Key Signature Detected.
Anomaly Key?
Itsuki hesitated. "This… isn't mine."
But curiosity burned stronger than caution.
He reached out.
The book opened—and unlike the others, it didn't show clean pages or neat illustrations. No. These pages bled ink as if freshly written, and the diagrams weren't just technical—they were ritualistic. Symbols burned with red and black energy, movements more like invocations than stances.
The Widow's Pulse wasn't just a martial art.
It was a technique forbidden by most sects, meant to siphon, twist, and reverse internal qi.
He could barely make sense of it—but the first few lines froze his breath:
"For those cast out of all clans…For those who survive by borrowing life itself…For the unwanted disciples marked for quiet death…This is your final blade."
Itsuki slammed the book shut.
His chest was heaving.
This was written for someone who was never meant to survive here…
Was that who Jinhwan had been?
He opened the system.
Divergence Level: 9%
The next morning, he asked around.
Carefully.
Casually.
"What do you know about Jinhwan?" he asked a younger disciple during breakfast.
The boy blinked. "You mean you?"
"No—I mean… before I hit my head. I can't remember much."
The boy looked around, then lowered his voice.
"Honestly? You were kinda invisible. Always late. Always sick. I heard you were gonna be expelled soon. But…"
"But?"
"There was this weird rumor."
Itsuki leaned in.
"Someone said Elder Yu wanted you gone. Like… really gone. But you never left."
That evening, he visited the small inner library on the edge of the sect grounds—a building rarely used, filled with scrolls that hadn't been read in years.
He found an old roster book. Records of disciples.
There was no name listed under Jinhwan.
Just a blank space where it should've been.
And beneath it, ink faintly scratched over and wiped out—like someone had purged the entry.
"You are not the first to wear this name."
The voice again.
It echoed in his skull now more than his ears. Not the same voice that brought him here. This one felt deeper, older. Like something trapped with him in the world.
Itsuki stood in silence in the musty room, the scroll still in his hand.
Lore Interlude: The Sectless
According to one of the oldest books he'd skimmed in the Grand Archive, there was once a faction of martial practitioners known only as the Sectless—those who were either banished from established clans or born outside the system entirely.
The world of Murim ran on bloodlines, legacies, sect hierarchies, and honor debts. But the Sectless? They had none of that.
Their styles were hybrid. Desperate. Often brutal. Many relied on forbidden arts to survive—some based in draining techniques, parasitic qi control, or even spiritual possession.
Over time, most were hunted down.
Only a few whispers remained in the margins of martial history.
And Jinhwan had apparently practiced a technique written for one of them.
That night, Itsuki sat on the rooftop of the eastern dorm, looking out over the entire sect. The wind was sharp. The moon was fat and gold.
His head was spinning.
He now understood: he wasn't just dropped into a new world.
He was dropped into a dead man's place.
Someone erased. Forgotten. Silenced.
And that forbidden book was calling to him—not because he earned it, but because the world thought he was someone else.
That meant whoever erased Jinhwan… might come back to finish the job.
Soon.
The system chimed once more before he went to sleep.
Progress: 35 / 100 Books ReadMemory Echo Unlocked: Jinhwan Fragment [1/7]You have begun to recover the memories of the previous soul.Warning: Merging incomplete. Emotional backlash possible.
Itsuki watched the words fade.
This world wasn't going to let him rest.
He didn't just have to grow stronger.
He had to find out why Jinhwan was erased—and what price had already been paid to give him this second chance.