The name thundered through Tae-Won's mind. Cheon Ma-Ryong – it made perfect sense. They were around the same age around this time, but something was off. Back when Tae-Won had served in the Heavenly Demonic Cult's intelligence division in his past life, he'd never once encountered evidence of contact between the cult and the Ancient Sword Sect. Not a single scroll, not one report, not even a whispered rumor.

The Heavenly Demonic Cult was universally reviled. Orthodox sects viewed them as an abomination that needed to be purged, while unorthodox sects saw them as dangerous extremists who brought too much attention from righteous cultivators. No sect would willingly associate with them, let alone one of the Nine Great Sects.

Yet here stood Cheon Ma-Ryong, wearing the Ancient Sword Sect's colors like a second skin. A flawless disguise, perhaps, but why here? Why now?

Around this time in his past life, news should have been spreading about the Heavenly Demon's deteriorating health. The mysterious illness that had plagued him for years should have finally claimed his life, throwing the cult into chaos as his children turned on each other.

Unless...

The realization hit Tae-Won like a bolt of lightning. Was this because of him? Had his regression somehow prevented the Heavenly Demon's illness? If the succession war hadn't started yet, then what was Cheon Ma-Ryong's purpose here?

[System Notice: Historical Analysis

- Inconsistency detected in current timeline

- Warning: Unknown variables in play]

A cold feeling settled in Tae-Won's stomach as another memory surfaced. Before becoming the bloodthirsty tyrant who'd slaughtered his way to the throne, the Fourth Young Lord had been infamous for another reason – his insatiable hunger for battle. Stories spoke of a battle-crazed maniac who challenged every powerful cultivator he could find, leaving a trail of broken bodies and shattered cultivation bases in his wake.

If the succession war wasn't driving his actions yet, then was this simply Cheon Ma-Ryong's original nature showing through? Had he infiltrated the tournament just to find worthy opponents to crush?

The tournament proctor raised his hand. Around them, the barrier arrays hummed with power, ready to protect the audience from what was to come. Tae-Won's grip tightened on his sword as his mind raced with questions.

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The proctor's hand fell.

Cheon Ma-Ryong moved.

All of Tae-Won's thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm as he barely managed to deflect the first strike. The sword qi that came at him wasn't the orthodox techniques Chen Feng had displayed earlier – this was pure killing intent given form, each strike meant to maim or destroy.

Another blow caught him in the shoulder, sending him skidding backward. Questions about timeline changes and variables meant nothing in the face of this onslaught. A kick connected with his ribs while he was still processing the previous attack.

Too slow. He was thinking too much.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he caught a glimpse of Cheon Ma-Ryong's expression – pure elation, the joy of a warrior who had found a worthy opponent to destroy. No politics, no schemes, just the raw thrill of combat.

"What's wrong?" Cheon Ma-Ryong's sword danced through the air, leaving trails of deadly qi. "You're distracted. Show me more!"

Another hit. Then another. Each impact drove more thoughts from Tae-Won's mind. The mysteries of the timeline, the questions about the Heavenly Demon's health, the peculiarity of the Ancient Sword Sect's involvement – none of it mattered right now.

[System Notice: Critical Combat Analysis

- Warning: Current performance sub-optimal

- Cause: Mental interference

- Recommendation: Focus only on the present]

The System's words cut through his scattered thoughts like a blade through silk. It was right. All his questions, all his theories about variables and changes – they were meaningless in this moment. What mattered was the opponent before him, the rival who burned with the pure desire for battle.

Tae-Won closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting everything else fall away. When he opened them again, they held a new focus.

[System Notice: Combat Protocol Activated

- Command: Use your full might, Tae-Won

- Directive: Fight this variable

- Objective: Conquer and destroy]

His sword moved, and this time, it carried his complete intention. No more questions. No more distractions. Just the pure simplicity of battle.

The real fight was about to begin.