In the Jianghu, there were countless principles.

The Orthodox sects discussed righteousness, the Unorthodox sects championed the law of the jungle, and the Demonic cults sought to overturn the order of the world.

The Murim Alliance cried out for justice, while clans and sects took up their swords for family honor and the survival of their schools. Some killed for revenge, and others placed thousands of lives on the scales under the pretext of saving the world.

And every single one of them claimed they were right. Murder became revenge, greed became a noble cause, and the victors were worshipped as heroes.

In that process, no one remembered the circumstances of those who died. Yet, no matter how noble a cause was presented, the dead never returned to life.

The greatest warrior under heaven, the emperor of a nation, and the nameless peasant were no different in the face of death.

When a sword pierced the heart, they bled; when poison invaded the veins, their breath stopped. When their lifespan reached its end, nothing could reverse fate. Even if one's martial arts reached a realm that could split the heavens and crumble mountains, that was strictly a story for the living.

For beyond death, another order existed. Beyond the river of the underworld, there was the Register of the Dead, where the deeds of one's life and the hour of one's death were recorded.

Neither power, nor wealth, nor the level of one's martial arts held sway there. Those whose names were engraved in the Register were bound to receive the call someday, and when that day came, no one could escape death.

Those who upheld those laws were the Grim Reapers.

They were not judges who ruled on good and evil, nor were they avengers who settled grudges. They only confirmed the deaths recorded in the Register and guided the souls whose time had come to the underworld.

They could not take a life earlier than the appointed time just because one was wicked, nor could they overturn the fate of death just because one was virtuous.

Of course, there were those in the Jianghu who sought to defy those laws. Those who committed taboos to bring the dead back to life, demons who stole the lifespans of others to extend their own heaven-sent years, and even absolute masters who tried to capture a Grim Reaper to avoid death.

As humans grew stronger in martial arts, they ceased to fear the heavens and believed they could eventually subjugate even death.

However, the power to covet the boundary between life and death carried a proportional responsibility. The power to handle life and death could be the key to saving the world, or a disaster that could bring it to ruin.

That was why Grim Reapers were not permitted personal attachments.

They could feel pity for someone's death, but they could not change that fate at will. They could loathe someone's atrocities, but they could not judge them while ignoring the records of the Register.

The living called them ill omens, and the dead realized their end through the sound of their footsteps.

So it was for the woman who was once called by another name, but had now discarded even that.

All that remained for her were the Register, the laws, and the countless souls she had yet to collect.

The Jianghu did not know her.

But when the time of death arrived, no one could block her path.