Why now, all of a sudden? That was my first thought.
I didn't feel any regrets, and I didn't want to turn back time. So why had the blessing activated?
Are there any other conditions beyond my mental state that triggered it?
The only thing I could focus on was the idea of my death. It sounded ridiculous, of course.
Did I die without even realizing it? Is that even possible? This wasn't just stubborn pride speaking. I hadn't been careless or caught off guard. I'd been deep in enemy territory, fully alert, nerves drawn tight as a wire.
And then I just collapsed, dead? That made no sense.
So what was this place? The boundary between life or death?
The sound of a bell snapped me back to the moment.
I still didn't know what had happened, but all things considered, this wasn't the worst possible outcome.
I had no idea which point in time I'd return to, but things weren't going particularly well anyway. Going back meant I'd have better information and more choices.. In other words, regression was unquestionably beneficial.
Instinctively, I turned left toward Spirit Mountain.
The bell rang again. And with it, the past came rushing back.
***
It was complete darkness. Naturally, that was expected with my eyes covered, but even so, blocking out all light with a thin strip of cloth was no easy feat. In that regard, the blindfold Senior Sister Tian gave me was unusual. The moment I put it on, my vision plunged into darkness as if night had suddenly fallen. The sensation struck a faintly nostalgic chord.
Spirit Mountain was cloaked in a pale mist and soft light twenty-four hours a day, year-round. It existed in a constant state of white night, making true darkness a rare experience. Perhaps because I had closed my eyes, the sound of the bell reached me more clearly than before.
On the right. Around ten steps... eight, five... As the sound drew nearer, I swung my left palm forward, cutting through the air. Frustration surged when I couldn't catch even the hem of her clothes, let alone her body.
" Ack! " Pain exploded from the back of my head, and I collapsed to the ground. Tears welled up from the sharp sting, as if struck by a steel bar.
Then a low laugh echoed, accompanied by a gentle touch on my head. The blindfold that had robbed me of sight was suddenly gone.
"You can't just rely on your hearing." Senior Sister Tian's calm voice seemed to soothe my throbbing head.
Wiping my tears, I replied, "I can't see, so I have to at least listen."
She opened her iron fan with practiced ease and said, "Luan, do you think I only rely on my hearing?"
I nodded.
"Have you ever heard that when you lose one sense, the others grow sharper?" she asked.
"Yes."
"It's not entirely wrong," she said. "But it's not that they grow sharper. It's only then that they function at their fullest."
"I see." I looked at Senior Sister Tian. I had never seen her eyes, not even once. She always wore that cloth over them. According to her, there were no eyes left to see. She did not mean it metaphorically. She was blind, but not from birth. Someone had gouged her eyes out.
Senior Sister Tian had sometimes said she was grateful to have lost her sight. From what I gathered, vision was the least important of the five senses for martial artists. Only by losing it could the other senses fully awaken.
I thought I understood, at least a little. It was like how the tendons in my right arm had been severed, forcing me to master the sword with my left.
"I've lost my sight, but I still have my other senses. And I've even gained a sixth," she said.
According to her, once I reached that realm, I would be able to hear the wind brushing across my skin, smell the minerals in the rocks, and see the waves rolling across the sea through sound alone.
"In a fight between masters, the easiest sense to deceive is sight," she added.
"Ah." Her words gave me a new understanding. Misdirection only worked if your opponent was watching. But if I let go of that reliance on sight, I could learn to perceive far more without my eyes.
I asked, "But what was that bell just now? I struck where the sound came from..."
Senior Sister Tian opened her iron fan with a soft laugh. The bell hanging from its end trembled violently, yet no sound came from it.
"It's a sound technique. Nothing too advanced," she said.
A moment later, the sound of a bell echoed from somewhere nearby—far from where she stood. I turned my head, but of course, nothing was there.
"It's a simple trick. In battle, I swing the fan and let the bell ring again and again so the enemy locks onto the sound. Then, when I vanish for a breath, they rely on their hearing. They listen for the bell."
I focused on the second half of her words. "Senior Sister, you divert the opponent's attention with this trick. Then you launch a surprise attack from their blind spot."
"That's right," Senior Sister Tian said, gently patting my head.
It felt a little odd. Our master and Senior Sister Tian never treated me like a child. This kind of affection wasn't unwelcome, just unfamiliar.
Was this what it felt like to have an older sister? I had a few older sisters, but we were more like strangers than family. I didn't even remember some of their names well.
Senior Sister Tian went on, "Seems like a simple trick, doesn't it? Like no one would ever fall for it."
"Yeah."
"But plenty of renowned masters and powerhouses have fallen victim to it. I used this exact method to beat down quite a few of those despicable hypocrites of the righteous faction. They didn't even realize what was happening until they were torn apart, limb from limb. Pathetic way to go..."
Even I couldn't crack a joke like, "But you don't have eyes, Senior Sister Tian. Hahaha! "
Senior Sister Tian told me, "Keep this in mind, Luan. There's no one easier to provoke than a stubborn old person."
"Yes. I'll remember that."
Sometimes, her tone grew harsh. Honestly, in those moments, I feared her as much as I feared our master, so I simply nodded.
***
I snapped out of the memory and looked ahead again. Spirit Mountain rose faintly in the distance, and the hazy figure of Senior Sister Tian stood near its base. That blurred silhouette felt like the perfect bait, crafted to draw me in. Was that just my imagination?
The bell rang once more.
One thing was certain: if that path were truly the right answer, Senior Sister Tian wouldn't have given me such a blatant hint. She was just as relentless as our master when it came to teaching.
She once explained it was because of the harsh environment she had grown up in—a life as ruthless as hell, where survival meant taking lives before losing your own. It was a place where death awaited anyone who failed to learn subtle lessons and push themselves to improve.
"I'm sorry. This is the only way I know," Senior Sister Tian often said.
Though she seemed uncomfortable with her own methods, sometimes even slightly irritated, I never minded. She was nothing like our master, who would set impossible tasks and leave me to solve them alone.
Senior Sister Tian usually sat on the rocky slopes, always attuned to my presence, offering guidance only when I truly needed it. "You have to doubt what's obvious. I'm not just talking about battle tactics. In life, the path that looks easiest is almost always a trap."
I hadn't fully grasped her meaning back then. Now, I did. In this absurd race called life, few things were fair. The obvious choices were usually traps. What I truly wanted lay beyond the difficult path.
I couldn't help laughing. Of course, all of this could be wrong. In fact, I was in a dangerous spot. Senior Sister Tian could be trying to give me advice in the simplest way possible.
In the end, I had only a gut feeling—a sense that the left path was the wrong one. Hence, I turned and headed right.
The bell chimed again, this time sounding a little more urgent. Or was that just my imagination?
I laughed quietly to myself and pressed on down the right path. Halfway along, the fog on the path started to dissipate, and the scenery changed with each step.
"W-why?!"
"There should still be time, shouldn't there?"
The first thing that caught my eye was a building. As I approached, I recognized it as Building 12, where Alderson had taken command.
Inside, Alderson, Barter, and the Special Forces team worked alongside a handful of students with practical experience and the remaining hero disciples, all locked in a fierce battle.
Alderson's barrier magic remained strong. The armored troops had yet to appear. Only adult dolls swarmed around, but for now, the building felt safe.
"W-w-we are all going to die!"
"Save me! I-I need to get out of here!"
"You!"
Even so, the scene was terrifying. Dozens of dolls clung to the windows, their fists pounding against the glass. They hadn't broken through, but to the less experienced students, it looked like a waking nightmare. The real danger hadn't arrived yet, but fear alone was enough to unravel them. Panic took hold and spread quickly.
Honestly, I hadn't expected things to fall apart so fast. Still, I kept walking, and the scene changed once more. This time, I saw Alderson and Arin.
"D-Dean Alderson? How long can this barrier hold?"
"Do you know what you need to watch out for most in a defensive battle?"
"Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?" Caught off guard by the question, Arin hesitated, then answered with a shaky voice, "It... Is it patience?"
"That's important, but it's not what you need to watch out for."
"Ah."
"The real threat is cracks from within. No matter how strong the gate or high the walls, the battle is lost if someone inside opens the gates. Barrier magic works the same way. It can withstand a group of powerful dolls for hours, but it crumbles from within when even weak students struggle inside." Alderson's tone grew somber. "At this rate, I won't hold out much longer."
I kept walking, and the scenery changed again. This time, the place was more familiar—the chaotic second floor of Building 13, where we had infiltrated.
I saw Mir's figure. Blood dripped down her smiling face as she lifted the doll, carrying it like a mountain. She stood frozen like that. I couldn't tell if she was alive or dead.
Then I realized what she had done. When she could no longer hold on, she poured every last drop of cold from her body into freezing herself and the doll together.
Her technique differed from Seren's. Mir's hands clung tightly to the bottom of the doll, the chill radiating up to her wrists. The cold spread across the corridor floor, freezing everything around her. With her body embedded in the doll like that, it couldn't break free, even if it shattered its shell—unless it removed Mir from its body.
Did Mir know this? She was still smiling, even frozen.
I kept walking, and the scenery changed again.
The three hero disciples were fighting, their bodies slowly gathering fresh wounds. However, the number of dolls showed no sign of dwindling. The dolls looked fragile enough to be swept away by a strong current, yet they pressed in relentlessly.
In the midst of the fierce battle, Charon hurled his sword toward Perist.
Perist, seated with calm ease, flinched in surprise. The attack caught her off guard. The flying sword pierced her, and she collapsed to the ground with a sharp scream.
The strike was precise and deadly, but it came at a heavy cost. Throwing a weapon drained energy, and launching it with full force demanded even more. Even a small ball required great effort to throw at full power, yet Charon had thrown a long sword. In that instant, he was completely exposed, and his hand was empty.
A nearby doll hit Charon in the face, and it looked like it crushed Charon's left eyeball.
As Charon hit the ground, dozens of dolls swarmed over him.
Seren clenched her teeth and spread her arms wide. A storm of cold erupted, whipping out in all directions. The icy tempest swept up Charon, lying helpless on the ground, and even Evan. She seemed to believe this was better than leaving him as he was.
"Are you still not going to regress? Turn back right now. It isn't too late." It felt like an invisible voice was whispering these words to me.
Still, I did not stop walking.
At the same time, I had to reconsider the power of my blessing. At first, I saw it as a vast opportunity—a convenient power that could undo mistakes and change the past. I believed I could challenge fate again and again, no matter the wrong choices I made.
Now, I realized it was not that simple. A sudden thought struck me. If I went back to the past like this, what would happen to their efforts, their determination, their struggles, and above all, their growth?
The answer was clear. They would vanish. Somehow, I felt that undoing their journey would trample on their dignity. Maybe that feeling was arrogant. After all, most people in the world prioritize their lives over their mission.
Nonetheless, regression was my blessing. This power was mine alone. And from the moment power fell into someone's hands, it would inevitably be shaped by personal standards.
By mine, I made a difficult choice. Things are still manageable.
Then the path came to an end. Darkness remained all around me, but something felt different. The scenery had changed in a way that couldn't be ignored. A blood-red moon hung low on the edge of the dark, casting a vivid, unnatural light.
The blood moon started to spin wildly, as if unhinged. Red clouds spread across the sky, forming distinct shapes—a monstrous tongue and a skeleton cloaked in jet-black robes.
Though crude, I recognized them. Demon kings?
It was the Green-Tongued Demon King and Black Swamp Demon King. BBetween them appeared a human figure. Simple, like a child's doodle, but I recognized it. It is me.
Then something even more absurd happened. The two demon kings grabbed my arms, pulling me back and forth as if playing tug-of-war.
"What the..." muttered aloud.
How could I describe the scene? It looked exactly like two children fighting over their favorite doll. But knowing the children were demon kings and the doll was me, I couldn't laugh.
The arms of the Luan doll were about to be torn off.
As I watched, irritated and impatient, a new figure fell from the sky and sliced through the demon kings in an instant.
The two demon kings glared at the newcomer before slowly dissolving into fog. The newcomer wore a tattered black cloth over grim, full-body armor.
It was someone I had never seen before. Yet, somehow, I seemed to know him. Despite the armor, the swords he wielded and the spear strapped to his back felt painfully familiar.
Instinctively, I placed my hand on the hilt of the Yin-Yang Dao at my waistband when a voice echoed from somewhere.
"I... understand... their... desires." The voice came in broken fragments, but I knew it came from the blood moon. "Possession."
A low whisper followed. "I... want... to... possess... you... too."