I'm The Lowest-Ranking Daughter Of A Martial Arts Villain (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 1

“Cute little thing.”

When the sharp chin pressing against her crown hurt, she tilted her head—and right on cue, his lips landed on her temple.

The man, holding Na Rin on his lap as if she were about to melt from cuteness, buried his nose in her hair like a puppy sniffing, murmuring softly.

That shamelessly affectionate man was none other than Cheonma, the Demon Sect Lord, Dokgo Cheon.

“You’ll make people scold you.”

“Who would dare insult the Sovereign of Ten Thousand Demons? And besides, that young lady too.”

Dokgo Cheon gently swept back her stray hairs with a tender touch and gave a small smile.

Instantly, his amethyst-like violet eyes crinkled beautifully, exuding their signature decadent aura.

His beauty was so extraordinary that even beyond being the Demon Sect Lord, as a mere man he was more than worthy of every woman’s longing.

Anyone naturally adores beauty—seeing his face would soften anyone’s heart like tofu—but still…

‘Even so, hugging your daughter during an imperial council meeting is really…’

I couldn’t bear the shame; it wasn’t about dignity or propriety—it was simply too embarrassing for me.

Na Rin wriggled her body this way and that to carve out some space, then slid down smoothly, dropping with a soft thud beneath the chair.

Yes! Freedom!

Just as that thought crossed her mind, someone’s hands reached out, grabbed Na Rin’s torso, and lifted her up.

It was Seventh Elder Oh Hyun Hak—one of the Twelve Elders, the respected seniors of the Demon Sect.

“Why?”

“The next memorial petition is mine.”

Oh Hyun Hak gestured sternly toward the stack of petitions piled before Dokgo Cheon and continued with solemn gravity.

“Stay quietly nestled. For the peace of the Demon Sect.”

“Seventh Elder is right, Ma Sect Maiden.”

“Do not stray from the Sovereign—not even until this meeting concludes.”

Wait, what kind of nonsense is this?

Whether Na Rin wore a bewildered expression or not, the civil officials who had submitted memorials clearly had no intention of yielding.

And understandably so—the approval rate of memorials doubled when Na Rin sat on Dokgo Cheon’s lap compared to when she didn’t.

But what did that have to do with Na Rin? Not even a crumb of benefit fell to her.

“With nothing in my mouth?”

“…”

When Na Rin scowled and shot Oh Hyun Hak a glare, he cleared his throat loudly with a “Hmph!”

As if that were a cue, a servant hurried in with swift, light steps, bearing a plate of tanghulu skewers, and knelt before Na Rin.

“These are tanghulu—sugar-coated spirit pills. Will these suffice?”

“Perfect.”

Na Rin stretched out her tiny hand and quickly plucked a glossy, crimson, round spirit pill tanghulu.

Crunch.

Munch munch munch.

The outer layer was intensely sweet, while the inside was sharply tangy; the spirit pill rolled around inside her mouth, puffing her cheeks full like a chipmunk.

Oh Hyun Hak, visibly relieved, placed Na Rin back onto Dokgo Cheon’s lap.

“Sovereign.”

“Hmm.”

The moment Dokgo Cheon took Na Rin into his arms, his expression—previously radiating coldness like the icy cliffs of the Northern Sea—melted softly like fresh snow meeting morning sunlight.

“Has our precious, lovely daughter come?”

“…Yes.”

Na Rin sat once again on Dokgo Cheon’s lap, resting her head against his chest, and thought:

Dokgo Cheon, the merciless Cheonma, was officially the Demon Sect’s ultimate doting father.

‘Well, it truly pays to live long enough—witnessing something this unbelievable.’

She couldn’t fathom how things had come to this.

Na Rin closed her eyes tightly and recalled the day it had all begun—the final day of her tenth life, filled with hardship and suffering.

[This is the timeline separator]

The Anti-Demon Sect War.

That was how the righteous martial artists of the orthodox schools referred to this brutal conflict.

Rising indignantly against the Demon Sect’s invasion, the virtuous orthodox factions banded together, forming the Martial Alliance, and sacrificed their young lives in the Anti-Demon Sect War.

Na Rin had been one of them too.

That should have been the case, without a doubt.

“Why…?”

Her sclera was streaked crimson with bloodshot veins.

It was too desolate to be mere rage, yet too fierce to be simple sorrow.

This complex yet unmistakable emotion made Na Rin tremble like an aspen leaf.

“Why on earth!!”

Despite Na Rin’s near-accusatory question, no one opened their mouth to reply.

Not because they had nothing to say—

but because they were utterly overwhelmed by the immense, bizarre killing intent emanating from the figure before them.

“Not once have I ever disobeyed—not even once. If told to kill, I killed; if told to burn, I burned. Then why!”

When Na Rin stepped forward, the hundred elite martial artists surrounding her retreated two steps back.

“Are you suddenly terrified because the blade in your hands feels too sharp?”

“Shut your mouth, Blood Plum Blossom!”

Grand Master Cheong Heo of the Wudang Sect raised his voice loudly, clearly intending for everyone to hear.

“Do you think I don’t know you share the same white hair as the Demon Sect Lord? If there’s any connection—however indirect—to the Demon Sect, Wudang will never stand idly by—”

“If we hand over Blood Plum Blossom, the Demon Sect will withdraw.”

Abbot Hye Wan of Shaolin interrupted Grand Master Cheong Heo and spoke up.

“Me?”

“The Demon Sect disciples themselves no longer wish to shed blood. Only you, Miss Na Rin, seem unwilling to end this bloodbath.”

A hollow laugh escaped Na Rin’s lips. So the Demon Sect demanded my head as their peace condition.

‘I did kill many of them, after all.’

First ten, then a hundred.

She stopped counting after that, but it was surely over a thousand—perhaps even ten thousand by now.

Yet not a single one had died without deserving it.

“I beheaded him for severing my sworn brothers’ arms. I piled enemy corpses into mountains for hanging my comrades’ bodies on trees. Is that a crime?”

“Miss Na Rin!”

“Then I must be Cheonma myself.”

At those sinister words, the sword tips of the terrified martial artists trembled violently, clashing together in resonance.

And understandably so—their opponent was none other than Blood Plum Blossom Ju Na Rin, a calamity incarnate.

“There’s one thing I’m curious about.”

Clang!

Finally, Na Rin’s plum blossom sword left its sheath.

Its gleaming blade was whiter than the snows of the Snowy Mountain.

“Do you truly believe you can take my head?”

“Those capable of forming sword arrays, step forward and become shields! Stay hidden until Blood Plum Blossom shows an opening—”

Before Grand Master Cheong Heo could finish, Na Rin’s face abruptly appeared before his eyes.

She smiled like a blooming plum blossom and asked,

“Do you really think that’s possible?”

“Aaargh!”

Grand Master Cheong Heo swung his sword horizontally in a wide arc to fend off Na Rin.

By the time Na Rin leapt upward to evade and landed back on the ground, several more elite martial artists had already spewed blood.

“My arm! My arm!”

“Gurk! Ugh!”

Na Rin didn’t care who she had struck or what sword technique her opponent used.

She simply unleashed her sword aura like plum petals drifting in the wind, cutting in directions even she herself couldn’t predict—

until she heard a voice.

“Na Riiiiin!”

The storm of blood abruptly froze.

In the hands of the white-haired elder stood a brand-new plum blossom sword, trembling violently.

He couldn’t even raise his head—only gripping the sword, shaking uncontrollably.

It was Grand Master Hyeon Baek, elder of the Mount Hua Sect and Na Rin’s master.

“…You’ve come, Master.”

Hyeon Baek was never meant for such a scene.

He was closer to a Daoist than a warrior—and even more so, closer to a kind-hearted sage than a Daoist.

“Please go back, Master. They cannot defeat me.”

“A-ah, I know. I know, but…”

“Master Sect Leader too…”

Na Rin’s gaze fell upon Grand Master Hyeon Woon, head of the Mount Hua Sect.

“Today will be your last.”

“…!”

“You must lead Mount Hua into the next generation, Master.”

“What nonsense are you spouting!”

Seeing Grand Master Hyeon Woon’s face flush with anger, Na Rin gave a faint smile.

Even in this dire moment, this petty man thought only of his own survival.

It was absurd that a wretched fellow like him dared call himself a Daoist and ‘Grand Master.’

Watching Hyeon Baek witness this hostility between Na Rin and Hyeon Woon, sorrow and pain clouded his eyes.

‘How did it ever come to this?’

It was heart-wrenching that he could no longer share the same path with his disciple, who was like his own flesh and blood.

“…Couldn’t you just die?”

“What did you say?”

A triumphant smile, brimming with anticipated victory, appeared on the lips of Grand Master Hyeon Woon, leader of Mount Hua Sect.

As if chased by someone from behind, Hyeon Baek hurriedly continued,

“Your single life can force the Demon Sect to retreat. You’ve always fought ready to die—surely you won’t begrudge it now.”

“Master.”

“And if everyone here dies, who will safeguard the peace of the martial world you so deeply desire? Only if these people remain—”

“Master!”

At Na Rin’s sharp rebuke, Hyeon Baek suddenly realized what he’d just said and snapped his mouth shut in shock.

“Do you truly mean that? Without me, do you think Sect Leader would leave you alone?”

“I know. I’ll follow you soon enough.”

“…”

“Na Rin.”

Hyeon Baek forced his trembling voice under control and spoke with great difficulty,

“You’ve killed too many people.”

“…”

“Even this old man finds his life precious now. What of all the others?”

“Everyone values their own life.”

“No. You don’t understand.”

Hyeon Baek spread his arms wide, as if to show Na Rin the surroundings.

Blood from the dead and dying soaked the earth.

“I can no longer endure watching this unrepayable blood debt grow by the moment.”

Seeing her master choke back tears in agony, Na Rin sighed.

She couldn’t blindly agree with Hyeon Baek, who knew nothing of war—yet, she couldn’t deny everything he said either.

That the martial world’s peace required the survival of the people here—

at least that much was true.

“If my head…”

Everyone leaned in to hear Na Rin’s words.

“…will truly make the Demon Sect withdraw?”

Abbot Hye Wan of Shaolin answered Na Rin, whose hostility had noticeably lessened.

“It is a proposal we heard directly from the Demon Sect’s Dharma Protectors.”

Dharma Protectors.

The term referred to the four top lieutenants—close aides of the Sect Lord—who personally led elite squads in invading the Central Plains.

Na Rin asked again,

“Which Dharma Protector?”

“Heavenly King Vaisravana Jeok Gun Ak.”

“Hmm. From him, it makes sense to demand my head.”

Na Rin swung her plum blossom sword in a wide arc to flick off the blood droplets, then sheathed it once more.

“I have conditions.”

“Speak.”

“Let Grand Master Hyeon Baek of Mount Hua Sect be the one to take my head, and let the Martial Alliance guarantee my safety—no forced suicide, no ‘accidental’ deaths. You’ll have to keep me alive until I’m so old I smear excrement on walls.”

“Na Rin!”

“Elder Hyeon Baek’s actions are Mount Hua Sect’s internal affair!”

Neither Hyeon Baek, who’d intended to die with Na Rin, nor Hyeon Woon, who’d wanted Hyeon Baek dead, mattered now—their shouts went ignored.

Everyone understood: if they refused these terms, they were all certain to die.

“We accept your conditions.”

“Abbot!”

“Then, Master.”

The plum blossom sword in Hyeon Baek’s hand was unusually pristine.

Na Rin placed her hand over Hyeon Baek’s, which gripped the sword, and smiled.

It was almost laughable—her head would be severed by this brand-new blade that had never tasted blood.

“Stay well.”

“No! How could I possibly live after taking your life? Na Rin! Na Riiin!”

A jet of blood dripped steadily from the sword tip that had cleanly severed her neck in one stroke.

Master must have terrible nightmares.

‘But more than that…’

Na Rin slowly closed her eyes, watching Hyeon Baek being dragged away, gagged to prevent suicide.

‘It’s about time it starts showing.’

[LIFE OVER] [*You gained renown as a martial artist but were betrayed by your sect and met a miserable end. Would you like to live again?… (Yes/No)]

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