Avatar of the Absolute Martial God

The pain of the flesh was nothing compared to that.

Death had torn my soul apart, shattering my very sense of self.

Had I simply ceased to exist, perhaps that would have been preferable.

And yet, for some reason, despite the overwhelming agony—I did not meet my end.

By the time I finally resigned myself to what felt like an eternity of suffering, I awoke as if it had all been a lie.

Just like that… I returned from the dead.

❃

Jang Pae, who had been promoted to Hundred Man Commander just three days prior for his achievements, doubted his own ears when one of his subordinates arrived at his tent at sundown.

“What? That kid made it back?”

“Yes, sir. The front line he was assigned to was completely wiped out, wasn’t it? That made it difficult to confirm his identity. Apparently, during the process, he mentioned our unit’s insignia, which led to a request for verification.”

“Wait… no, that’s not the point. How the hell did he survive in that mess?”

“Beats me. Anyway, I sent some men to retrieve him. They should be back soon.”

“Well, whatever happened, he made it out alive. That’s all that matters. I had a bad feeling about leaving him behind.”

Given the circumstances, abandoning him had been unavoidable—but that didn’t mean it sat well with Jang Pae.

It didn’t align with his character to leave debts unsettled.

After all, the only reason his unit hadn’t been annihilated was because that boy soldier had somehow managed to kill an unlucky enemy commander.

It hadn’t been intentional, but the fact remained—he had saved the unit.

And now, that same boy had returned.

A weight that had been pressing on Jang Pae’s chest finally lifted.

❃

By the time he had finished his barely palatable evening meal, the men who had gone to confirm the boy’s identity returned.

But they weren’t alone.

Jang-il was with them.

“Huh…? You look fine?”

The soldiers who had brought Jang-il back gave Jang Pae a look of utter disbelief.

“He’s drunk. He’s gotta be drunk. There’s no way someone could say that to a guy who fought his way back from hell!”

“Tch. Cold-blooded bastard.”

“Bet he’s disappointed the kid survived. Do you even realize how big a deal it is that he took the head of a Cheon clan noble?”

Jang Pae scowled as his subordinates turned on him instantly over a single poorly chosen remark.

“You little shits! I let you off the leash, and this is how you act? Maybe I should take a day to discipline you lot!”

He bared his teeth in irritation, but his men only glared at him in disgust, saying nothing.

Jang Il found the whole scene fascinating.

He hadn’t known it was possible to express, “This guy is nothing but a brainless thug” with just a look.

“Tch. Get lost. All of you—except you.”

Jang Pae, realizing how the others saw him, waved them off.

Now alone with Jang-il, he finally spoke—not to defend himself, but to voice his lingering doubts.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened to you since that day. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier that you made it back. That aside—what the hell happened? How did you survive? And more importantly, why do you look completely unharmed?”

Even he wouldn’t have bet on his own survival in that situation.

And even if he had, at the very least—he would’ve lost an arm.

Jang-il wasn’t just unharmed—his limbs intact—there wasn’t even a scratch on him. It was only natural for Jang Pae to find this suspicious.

Faced with his question, Jang Il hesitated to speak.

‘What should I even say?’

It was only natural—because he had come back from the dead.

And not in the simple sense of breathing again, of a stopped heart beginning to beat once more.

No, he had truly returned from nothingness itself.

Jang-il was certain of this because he had seen his own corpse not far from where he had awakened.

The body had been mangled, brutally torn by blades, and left to decay. But despite its wretched state, Jang-il recognized it immediately—it was him.

‘Is this the manifestation of the power Maka spoke of?’

At the time, he didn’t yet understand the system, so he assumed this was the ability he had chosen.

Despite the sheer magnitude of the revelation, Jang-il wasn’t particularly shocked.

He even found his own calmness strange, but that was because his consciousness had evolved—matured—compared to before his death.

Though he didn’t remember it, his soul had been forcibly refined through the ordeal of dying.

If he had attempted such spiritual growth through normal training, it would have taken at least twenty years of unwavering dedication.

But even that thought faded when he made another startling discovery.

It wasn’t just his body that had been recreated—everything he had possessed at the moment of death had reappeared alongside him.

The sword he had gripped in his final moments, his armor, his clothes—everything had been remade.

The only difference was that they now looked brand new.

The sword his master had given him had originally been chipped in a dozen places. But now, as he held it in his hands, there wasn’t a single imperfection.

And the same applied to his body.

All the wounds he had received on the battlefield, even scars from childhood injuries—they had all vanished.

“If I return looking like this… it might be a problem.”

No one would believe he had been part of a defeated force.

So, Jang-il switched his equipment with that of his corpse, leaving only his sword unchanged.

But even that wasn’t enough to fool an expert like Jang Pae.

It was no wonder he had found Jang-il’s appearance suspicious.

Given the situation, Jang-il struggled to come up with an explanation. But fortunately, the dilemma didn’t last long.

“If it’s something difficult to talk about, I assume it’s a secret technique of your sect. In that case, don’t bother explaining,” Jang Pae said. 

“What matters is that you, my benefactor, have survived. More importantly, what’s your name?”

“Jang-il. My name is Jang-il.”

“Hey now! You’re a Jang too? I had a feeling. Jang family members tend to have extraordinary talent. I’m Jang Pae.”

“…….”

Jang was one of the most common surnames on the continent, making his statement somewhat meaningless. But he was simply pleased to find common ground, so Jang-il let it slide.

“Alright, we can’t just let a day like this pass without celebration!”

Jang Pae took out a bottle of his cherished liquor, which his subordinates had been eyeing greedily.

Though it was nothing more than cheap, harshly distilled huaju, any liquor in the army was as precious as the finest vintage.

(huaju – refers to strong distilled spirits, often akin to Korean soju)

Unfortunately, Jang-il had never tasted alcohol before.

—Hic.

Despite his sturdy physique, which was nearly that of an adult, he was still young. Each time he emptied his cup, he let out a faint groan.

“Ha! It’s too strong for you, little brother?” Jang Pae chuckled.

In the end, after five drinks, Jang Il refused to have any more, pushing his cup away.

Finding this amusing, Jang Pae laughed again before changing the topic.

“Alright, let’s set the drinks aside and talk about what I mentioned earlier.”

“Hmm…”

Jang-il’s eyes flickered for a moment.

The truth was, he could have taken an easier route to verify his identity through his master’s status.

But he had deliberately sought out Jang Pae—for this conversation.

Jang Pae had promised to acknowledge his achievement and grant him a promotion.

Of course, promises made in the heat of battle could change afterward, but Jang Pae seemed sincere.

“That weasel earlier wasn’t wrong—turns out the bastard you took down was a far bigger deal than we thought. The Cheon family is one of the top martial clans in the nation. And you, my friend, took out one of their own. You might even get more than just a promotion—there could be a hefty reward.”

Hearing that, Jang-il cautiously asked,

“Instead of a promotion… would it be possible to receive my reward in another form?”

“What do you mean by that?”

With the continent engulfed in war for so long, the military’s treatment of soldiers had improved significantly.

Especially for those with nothing to their name.

Even in times of severe drought, when civilians struggled to eat, soldiers were at least guaranteed their meals.

Regardless of status, joining the military was the fastest way to rise in the world. It was only natural for Jang Pae to find Jang-il’s request strange.

But for Jang-il, who had been dragged into the army rather than enlisting by choice, such ambitions were irrelevant.

“I would like to apply for discharge.”

“You want to leave the army?” Jang Pae rubbed his chin. 

“Hmm… It’s possible, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Hearing that it was at least an option, Jang-il was momentarily relieved—but his expression turned puzzled at Jang Pae’s reluctance.

Noticing his confusion, Jang Pae explained, “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t have asked. Listen up—you might not realize it, but after that last battle, we’ve practically won the war.”

“What?”

The unexpected news caught Jang-il off guard.

Jang Pae gave a bitter smile and continued, “Truth is… our battlefield was nothing more than bait. And we played our part perfectly.”

In other words, the higher-ups had devised a strategy where they sacrificed some flesh to claim the bones. And they had succeeded.

It was the kind of ruthless pragmatism fitting for such chaotic times.

Jang-il hadn’t even considered such a possibility, and his wavering gaze betrayed his inner turmoil.

Perhaps, before his resurrection, he would have reacted with anger.

After all, not only had he died, but his master—whom he had regarded as a father—had also perished in a conflict orchestrated by those in power.

Jang Pae watched Jang-il’s surprisingly composed reaction with approval before continuing,

“That’s why I don’t recommend you leaving now. Given the situation, the war will be over in two months at the latest. Why rush to leave now? Stick around, wait for it to end, and collect your reward before you go.”

When the war ended, the army would naturally reduce its numbers by discharging soldiers with a severance payment.

Waiting until then was the smarter choice.

“Alright. I’ll do that.”

“Good. Smart decision.”

Following Jang Pae’s advice, Jang-il decided to delay his discharge.

In truth, he wanted nothing more than to leave this army—the very force that had driven both him and his master to their deaths.

But the reality of his situation left him with no choice.

Having grown up without a father, his family’s circumstances were far from ideal.

One of the main reasons he was so desperate to return home was because, as the eldest son, his absence weighed heavily on them.

And now, if he could endure just a little longer, he could earn enough money to support them.

On top of that, Jang Pae gave him another compelling reason.

“We won’t be sent to the battlefield again. The war’s already decided, and right now, the big shots are busy dividing up the credit. They have no reason to drag us back out there.”

Jang-il thought about it and realized it made sense.

For now, staying under Jang Pae’s command seemed like the best option.

“Just hang in there for a few more days. Like I said, you’ll get your promotion and a hefty reward.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me, my ass. It’s just how things work.”

Jang Pae grumbled, but Jang-il couldn’t help but smile.

For a brief moment, he wondered—if he had an older brother, would he have been like this?

❃❃❃