Pavilion Lord

Chapter 1 : Arrival

"As expected of Master Shin—defeating those unorthodox bastards in an instant!"

A young man stood at the center of the bustling town square, his arms crossed and chin raised like he was the undisputed king of the world. His luxurious robe fluttered dramatically in the wind (that totally wasn't being fanned by his devoted followers). His face gleamed with pride as he basked in the worship of the masses, who had just witnessed his godly prowess.

"Master Shin, please accept our children as your disciples!" A desperate father shoved his son forward.

Another man followed suit, practically throwing his daughter at him. "Forget disciples! Take my daughter as your wife!"

"No, take mine!"

Suddenly, a beautiful woman pushed forward, her cheeks flushed. "Master Shin… please make me your concubine!"

Before Shin could process that, another woman jumped in. "No! I'm more beautiful! Accept me instead!"

"Excuse me?! You look like a discount cabbage seller! I should be his number one concubine!"

"Who are you calling cabbage, you pig-faced harlot?!"

Within seconds, several women started brawling over him, while the crowd chanted his name like he was a divine being. Shin ran a hand through his silky, jet-black hair and smirked. "Heheheh… Power, wealth, women—soon, I will rule the Murim world."

It was the peak of existence. He had it all. He was—

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

"Huh?! What?!"

A deafening, soul-crushing alarm shattered his glorious fantasy like a rock smashing a priceless jade.

Shin's eyes snapped open. Instead of a grand martial world… he was sprawled across a massive, luxurious bed, drooling on his pillow, his hair a complete mess.

Groaning, a 14-year-old boy slapped the alarm clock off the nightstand and buried his face back into his pillow. "Can't I even have a beautiful dream in peace?!"

"Andrew! Andrew! Anndreeew!"

"Yes, Young Master!"-An elderly butler hurried into the room, his posture crisp despite his age.

"Where the hell were you?" the boy snapped, irritation flickering in his sharp gaze.

"My apologies, Young Master. I was attending to preparations for the Master's death anniversary."

The room fell silent.

At those words, the boy's expression darkened. His gaze drifted toward the massive bedroom window, fingers tightening at his sides. Outside, the world stretched endlessly before him—lavish, untouchable.

This was no ordinary teenager. He was Shin Ji-Hoon—heir to an empire. Raised in a world of unimaginable wealth, his life was paved with privileges most could only dream of. Yet, standing there, staring into the distance, he felt none of its warmth.

A beat of silence passed.

"...Let's go, Andrew."-The command was soft, yet absolute.

Beyond the towering gates, a fleet of gleaming luxury cars stood waiting, their polished exteriors reflecting the morning light. Bodyguards stood in disciplined formation, eyes sharp, hands resting at their sides—poised for orders.

As Ji-Hoon stepped outside, the air seemed to shift around him. Despite his youth, his presence carried a gravity far beyond his years. His expression was unreadable—grim, unwavering, as if sculpted by unseen burdens. Servants and guards moved in perfect sync, a silent acknowledgment of his status.

"Sir, the private chopper is ready. We'll arrive at Heming Mountain Shrine shortly."

With one final glance at the estate behind him, Ji-Hoon stepped forward.

At Heming Mountain:

As Shin ascended the mountain, countless thoughts swirled in his mind.

"My name is Shin Ji-Hoon, son of Kang Ji-Hoon—the richest man in Korea. My father built an empire from nothing, carving his name into history with sheer determination. He was strong, honorable… my idol."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "It was here, on Heming Mountain, that he first met my mother. She was running from a group of thugs, helpless and terrified. Despite being unarmed, my father fought them—three men, all by himself. My mother fell for him at that moment. He was frail, yet he stood his ground. That's the kind of man he was."

A deep sigh escaped him.- "Last year, they both died in a car accident, leaving behind everything… and me."

Ji-Hoon clenched his fists.

"I dream of a love story like theirs… but I am different. I am weak. A coward. I flinch at shadows. Even with all my wealth, I get bullied at school. And what do I do? Nothing. After my parents' death, I shut myself away, stopped going to school… Video games, manga, manhwa—those became my whole world. I'd fantasize about getting superpowers, about magic, about stepping into a world where I matter. But deep down, I know… it's all just an illusion."

A bitter chuckle left him. "Every time I try to change, I fail. I am not like him."

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the climb until they reached the peak.

"Young Master, we've arrived at the shrine," Andrew announced.

Ji-Hoon stepped forward, his gaze settling on the ancient structure standing solemnly atop the mountain. The cold wind whispered through the trees as he approached, his footsteps light yet heavy with unspoken emotions. Kneeling before the shrine, he clasped his hands in silent prayer.

Buddhist chants echoed softly from the monks nearby, blending into the mountain's silence. But he paid them no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere.

A faint smile graced his lips.

"Mom, Dad… how are you? You must be scolding Father right now—he never stayed still, always running off to help people. But don't worry about me. I'm doing fine. This time, I've decided—I will truly change. I will become like Father."

Just as the words left his mouth, an eerie chill slithered down his spine. The warm summer breeze vanished. In its place, a bone-chilling dampness crept into his skin.

Ji-Hoon's eyes snapped open. His breath hitched.

The shrine—bathed in golden sunlight just moments ago—was now unrecognizable. Its pristine walls had crumbled, swallowed by time. Moss and fungi clung to the rotting wood. The scent of decay filled the air, thick and suffocating. It was as if winter had suddenly descended upon him. His heart pounded against his ribs.