Survival Guide for the Reincarnated

As Unwi had instructed, Wonyang conducted the search, focusing especially behind heavy furniture and piles of baggage—and that was how she discovered it.

The place they were in now was the branch lord’s residence.

Wonyang began by examining the stacks of documents on the bookshelf.

If they were ledgers, she thought they might be of use to Unwi somehow, so she planned to set them aside. But as she pushed them away, she saw it.

Traces that the bookshelf had been moved—frequently.

So, she pushed the shelf aside and knocked on the wall.

That was when she became certain. There was an empty space within.

When she kicked the wall with her foot, a staircase leading underground appeared.

Just as Unwi had said—there was a secret chamber.

Wonyang turned to look at Unwi with an expression full of smug pride, and Unwi gave her a pat on the shoulder as if to say, “Well done.”

Now with her head held even higher, Wonyang looked toward Ju Soa. It wasn’t a look that seemed to ask for praise.

Ju Soa was somewhat dumbfounded.

“Hey. Don’t you think you’re a little too smug just for finding one thing?”

“Well, unlike you, I actually found something.”

“......”

“You should’ve found it yourself if you’re so bothered.”

Ju Soa let out a hollow laugh.

Why was she always so abrasive?

She hadn’t seemed like that kind of person before.

“Enough. Keep it in check and follow me.”

Unwi began descending the stairs first, and the branch members followed right behind.

They had to descend for quite a while.

Judging by the depth, it was at least a hundred jang from the surface.

Once they reached the bottom, Unwi’s brow slightly furrowed.

It was a vast, cavernous space.

A faint purple light from the Demon-Eye Stone dimly illuminated the underground chamber, and in its center were a few small piles of ashes.

Something was off.

Truly off.

First, it was strange that the space was so completely empty. And second, it was strange that it was so clean.

“...Someone definitely did something here.”

Ju Soa murmured quietly, and Unwi asked her,

“Do you have any guesses?”

“Not a clue.”

Letting out a sigh, Unwi silently walked toward the center.

No one here knew—so he would have to uncover it himself.

He began carefully examining the ground.

There were traces—of something having been drawn, constructed, then erased.

But what exactly it had been, he couldn’t say for sure.

Even trying to infer it from the residual energies didn’t yield anything certain.

‘...I’ll have to extract it.’

Unwi extended both arms. Soon, his Heo Hyeon-jigi began to spread like mist, slowly filling the space.

As the initially colorless mist passed over certain areas, it gradually began to change color. As if waiting for this moment, Unwi swiftly stirred his fingers, extracting the discolored sections.

As if scattered fragments were being drawn back together.

The discolored energies began forming shapes in midair.

“...Wow...”

The gasp came from Cheonpung. He hadn’t spoken much until now, but {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} his awe was shared by everyone else, Ju Soa included.

“You really do know everything...”

Celestial Traces Revelation (Cheongi Tamse / 천기탐세).

A specialized technique used to uncover and reconstruct lingering traces in a space.

It can function as a formation, a martial art, or even a spiritual method.

All formations and martial techniques leave behind traces of energy when used. These traces, even when erased or faded over time, are faintly etched into the space—especially powerful forces like demonic or blood energy leave particularly distinct marks.

For now, due to Unwi’s low cultivation level, he had to activate the technique by spreading his Heo Hyeon-jigi, but once his realm advanced further, even that would no longer be necessary.

In any case—

Unlike everyone else, who stood in awe, Unwi was far from pleased.

“...Do you know what this is, Branch Lord?”

It was Wonyang who asked.

She alone sensed Unwi’s mood, and Unwi gave her an answer.

“This is a formation.”

“...A formation?”

“It’s called the Blood Demon Incarnation Array. Ever heard of it?”

Everyone shook their heads. As expected.

There was no way ordinary people would know the formation used by the Central Blood Sect to manufacture bloodmen.

“The Central Blood Sect has those called ‘bloodmen.’ Do you know what sets them apart from ordinary people?”

“Their blood energy... right?” Ju Soa offered.

Unwi nodded.

“Correct. But blood energy is extremely unstable and dangerous. It’s a force unsuitable for ordinary martial artists.”

Just looking at what happened when Unwi used blood energy not long ago—it had left him near death. It was only because it was him that he had survived using a cultivation technique augmented by blood energy. Anyone else would’ve had their body burst and died.

That’s how dangerous blood energy is.

“To handle it like normal internal force, one must either possess overwhelming talent, or be extremely familiar with blood energy. But most martial artists aren’t like that. Let me put it clearly: within the Central Blood Sect, those who are bloodmen are respected regardless of rank. Only by wielding blood energy can one be called a true sect member.”

“......”

“Modifying an ordinary martial artist’s blood vessels to turn them into a vessel for blood energy—that’s what the Blood Demon Incarnation Array is for. But... something’s off.”

Whether it’s a formation or a martial art, at its core, everything is a ‘composition.’

The Blood Demon Incarnation Array was also a composition of several formations. Setting aside the auxiliary ones, its core consisted of five key formations:

The Spirit-Separating Array, which detaches the consciousness from the body;

The Soul-Stabilizing Array, which anchors the separated mind;

The Blood Accumulation Array, which gathers and condenses blood energy;

The Blood Vessel Reformation Array, which modifies the bloodline to contain blood energy;

The Unified Infusion Array, which injects the refined blood energy into the transformed body.

But here, two are missing.

The Spirit-Separating Array and the Soul-Stabilizing Array.

And not just that.

“...This is a modified version of the Blood Demon Incarnation Array.”

The fundamental framework was unmistakably that of the original array—but the infused energy was different.

This was absolutely not a formation meant to inject blood energy.

Tianlin was known for aiding the reconstruction of the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect, and that sect, of course, dealt with demonic energy.

So this was a formation designed to inject demonic energy.

Then why didn’t it protect the mind?

Demonic energy was just as corrosive and destructive as blood energy. There were already plenty of users out there, so why go to all this trouble?

That left only two possibilities:

Either the subject was an expendable test subject who didn’t require mental separation—

or they never had a consciousness to begin with.

He gazed in silence at the formation hanging in the air.

It was too intricate to be some crude experiment.

To modify a formation to this extent meant someone at the very end of the Martial God’s Five Realms had intervened. From what Unwi could tell, it was nearly perfect.

“Wonyang.”

“Yes.”

“How long has Tianlin been stationed in Cheongsu Village?”

“...Six years.”

Six years.

There was no need to ask why that mattered.

That was when Yangnyeong had swallowed up the Seolap Mine—and Tianlin had played a central role in the operation before pulling back.

It was likely their reward for that service had been this place.

And now he was curious.

Had they completed it?

He closed his eyes for a moment, sorting through the fading memories of his past life.

The martial world was vast. Rumors always found their way around somehow.

After he left, the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect was resurrected. The Ten Thousand Mountains and Everlasting Snow Mountain were on opposite ends of the world, so he had to look back further...

There had been a rumor.

About a being that wielded demonic energy without a will of its own—something that followed commands and nothing else.

Whether it was a vengeful spirit, a corpse puppet, or something else.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Roughly twenty-two years from now, there would be an incident where the Beast Palace of the Southern Barbarians was annihilated.

The one who destroyed them had neither emotion nor ego.

It moved solely for slaughter, like a tool.

And it had two notable traits.

It didn’t seem to breathe—and it wielded demonic energy.

It vanished without a trace afterward, and people came to call it the Heavenly Fiend of the Demonic Path.

Tch.

Unwi clicked his tongue. Beside him, Ju Soa’s voice reached his ears.

“...You were right, Branch Lord. At this point, Tianlin should be groveling, don’t you think?”

But Unwi shook his head.

“It’s not enough.”

“What isn’t?”

“Evidence.”

“...This isn’t enough?”

He immediately understood Ju Soa’s line of thought.

Given their current conflict with Tianlin, threatening to go public with this could pressure them into submission.

No matter how rampant demonic sects had become, being linked to the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect would raise alarms among many—and that would turn into a major trust issue.

Tianlin was a merchant group. Their sensitivity to trust and reputation would be extremely high.

However—

The current state of this site showed it had been thoroughly wiped clean.

It had clearly been cleaned up not in a day, but over several days at the very least. And it was only thanks to Unwi’s personal abilities that they’d uncovered any of it.

If they were to publicize what happened here just to tarnish Tianlin’s credibility, they would have to explain how they discovered it, explain the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect, and even explain the regression.

A pain. And more than that—a pointless one. As he’d said repeatedly: stretching the battlefield is a fool’s move.

Focusing solely on Tianlin was the smarter path.

All he needed to know for now was that those working to rebuild the Thousand-Year Demonic Sect had already prepared far more than expected.

That was enough.

“All supplies in Cheongsu Village are to be transported to Yangnyeong.”

They’d already swept through the warehouse above on their way in. There were goods leftover from the black market, and since this was officially a Tianlin branch built near the gold mine, it also held some of the mine’s product.

About six cartloads’ worth. And they were going to move all of it?

“...All of that?”

“All of it.”

“...Yes, sir.”

Ju Soa scratched her head. Unwi asked her,

“Still thinking about running away?”

She froze, then frowned as she looked at him.

“Seriously, what’s with you? I told you—I’m not like that. I told you I’ve got no intention of living in shame, remember?”

A faint smile crept onto Unwi’s lips.

He understood what she meant now.

“So you’re finally starting to see that I’m being honest?”

“I did. A little.”

Ju Soa grinned and threw an arm around Wonyang’s shoulder.

“He says ‘a little.’ I was being dead serious.”

Wonyang wriggled out of her grip and snapped back,

“Don’t act like we’re close.”

Ju Soa scratched her chin.

When she turned her head, Han Murin was letting out a dry laugh, and Cheonpung was smiling brightly with his arms wide open.

Tch.

No one here was normal.

***

Even after returning to the Yangnyeong branch, Unwi remained deep in thought, his expression grave.

Just from the absence of any mental protection in the formation, he had been able to deduce a great deal.

And that deduction, matched against his past experiences, had turned into a certainty.

Demonic energy was truly dangerous.

He hadn’t been startled by the Demonic Blood Heavenly Gang Incantation for nothing.

Even when creating bloodmen, there were safeguards for separating and shielding the mind—yet here, they were using something even more destructive, without those measures?

That could only mean that the destruction of the mind had already been preemptively done.

So where did that put the power level of the Heavenly Fiend?

There was no way it was just at the level of Flame-Screen Realm. To put this much effort into creating something at that level would go beyond inefficiency—it would be insanity.

At the very least, it had to be Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Realm, with Mythic Realm at the bottom of that tier.

What weighed most heavily on Unwi’s mind—what made his expression so grim—was the timing.

The formation’s craftsmanship was nearly flawless.

But if production of the Heavenly Fiend had already started at this point in time...

Then the one that would emerge in the distant future was likely just one of many.

He rested his chin in his hand.