The young man I had reincarnated as was named Byeok Ridan.
This place was Qufu in Shandong Province, considered a frontier region of the Central Plains.
Our clan, the Byeok Clan Sword School, was said to be a prestigious lineage in Shandong.
My father was Byeok Dojun, and my mother was Im Yehwa.
Unlike the vivacious Im Yehwa, my father, Byeok Dojun, was a calm and quiet man.
I was their only child. Judging by the circumstances, the reason Byeok Ridan had grown into such a wretched individual was likely because he was their only son, pampered beyond reason and ultimately ruined.
I decided to accept my current situation.
For the first few days, I clung to the hope that waking up would somehow restore everything to its original state. But that never happened.
To be honest, being reborn as this young man wasn't all bad.
I had relinquished my position as the Martial Arts Alliance Leader, but in return, I had gained youth—something priceless that money and power could never buy. Besides, I was already seventy when I died, having lived a full life.
Of course, it would have been better if this newfound youth had been genuine.
That bastard Byeok Ridan was pathetic, not only in his interpersonal skills but also in everything related to martial arts. Despite being twenty years old and the descendant of a martial arts family, his dantian held only five years' worth of internal energy, and even that was impure trash. Moreover, his untrained, frail body seemed like it would shatter at the slightest touch.
The only thing even remotely useful was Gwangdu, that yellow-beaked, bald-headed fellow. He had served as my personal attendant since childhood.
"Have you heard any rumors lately?"
"What rumors?"
"That the map to the former master's treasure has reappeared, that a two-headed spiritual beast has emerged... or that the Alliance Leader is dead."
It had been several days since my reincarnation, so rumors of my death should have surfaced by now. Yet the silence was eerily profound.
Of course, Shandong was far from the Martial Arts Alliance Headquarters, so news might take time to reach here. Alternatively, they might still be concealing my death. Revealing the death of the Martial Arts Alliance Leader would undoubtedly send shockwaves through the martial world.
Still, they couldn't keep it hidden forever, could they? Well, Gal Saryang would handle it skillfully, I'm sure.
"There's a rumor about you, Young Master."
"What is it?"
"That you were beaten senseless by Miss Song and your mind has been addled ever since."
A chuckle escaped me. Come to think of it, it was the first genuine laugh I'd had in ages.
In my previous life, I was truly stingy with my laughter. To be fair, it was a place where even when I wanted to laugh, I couldn't easily do so. I lived in a world where kindness was seen as a weakness.
"Is Miss Song really that beautiful?"
"Yes, she was stunning even as a child. But the day I saw her, she was breathtakingly gorgeous. Didn't you notice the local layabouts lining up just to catch a glimpse of her after hearing the rumors? Though, I suppose that's what got Young Master so worked up about meeting the Young Lady in the first place. Anyway, she hasn't been back long, but the rumors are already spreading like wildfire: 'Shandong's Fairest Maiden has returned!'"
A woman—a beautiful woman at that.
In my previous life, I had met countless women. Back when I was at the peak of my success, it was only natural that women would flock to me.
Among them were women ranked among the Four Great Beauties of the Central Plains, and even one considered the Fairest Under Heaven at the time.
Yet I never shared true love with any of them.
It was because I had become a peerless master at too young an age. They treated me not as Cheon Hajin, the man, but as Cheon Hajin, the Greatest Expert Under Heaven. Though they smiled outwardly, they inwardly feared me.
Those women who didn't fear me sought to exploit me for power. If not them, their parents did. I cut them all down and trampled them into the ground.
Later, when I grew older and developed a proper eye for women, I was too preoccupied fighting the Heretics and Deviants to pursue romance. It was truly a time when I did nothing but fight, aside from eating and sleeping.
"Even after being beaten up, you still want to see Miss Song, don't you? I understand you, Young Master."
"Enough."
"What do you mean?"
"I said, I'm done with women."
"Good heavens! Did you just call Miss Song a 'woman'? Not just any woman—Miss Song! Song Hwarin, Shandong's Fairest Maiden! The very Miss Song who nearly died throwing a fit because she wanted to see you, Young Master!"
"Yes, yes, enough about Shandong's Fairest Maiden. Go fetch me a sword."
"A sword? Why suddenly a sword?"
Because the sword is the only true love of my life.
"Why? Does a martial artist need a reason to seek a sword?"
"Martial artist... sword... These words just don't suit you, Young Master."
"Disobeying orders, punishment, accidentally killing subordinates—how about these? Do these words suit me?"
"Yes! I'll bring it right away!"
Gwangdu clutched his head and scurried off.
It took a long time for Gwangdu to return with the sword.
"It took ages to find! You'd stashed it away in the storeroom."
Holding the sword calmed my mind.
In my past life, I was known as the Martial God. I had mastered nearly every martial art, but if I had to choose one, it would undoubtedly be swordsmanship.
In my final years, my swordsmanship had reached the pinnacle of the Qi-Driven Sword Art. With a mere flick of my fingers, my sword would flash like lightning, piercing through my opponent's heart.
Yet the realm I truly sought lay beyond that:
The Heart Sword Realm.
A state where a physical sword was no longer necessary.
Those who attained the Heart Sword Realm could freely wield an invisible sword manifested from their own heart.
Legend had it that there was nothing the Heart Sword could not cut. The stronger one's resolve, the more formidable their Heart Sword would become.
I longed to discover the true nature of my own Heart Sword.
But in the end, I never reached the Heart Sword Realm.
And I was reborn. In this life, I felt an overwhelming desire to walk the paths I never could in my previous life.
But if even Cheon Hajin, who had been born with a perfect body optimized for martial arts, had failed to achieve this, could I truly accomplish it with this Byeok Ridan?
Shriiing.
I slowly drew my sword.
"It was originally a fine blade."
Long neglect and improper maintenance had left it badly deteriorated.
"Of course, Young Master. The Patriarch himself bestowed this sword upon you on your fifteenth birthday."
"To let such a fine blade rot like this... What a fool."
"I'm glad you realize that, but..."
When I pointed the sword at him, he panicked and fled.
"Just call me a fool! Crazy is too much!"
"Ha ha."
Don't worry, kid. Since I was reborn, this is the clearest my mind has ever been.
My heart pounded with exhilaration as I held the sword.
When was the last time I drew my sword?
After crushing the Heretics and Deviants and rooting out the traitorous factions within the Martial Arts Alliance, I only drew my sword during training. In my later years, having realized I could never reach the Heart Sword Realm, I stopped wielding it altogether.
Gazing at the gleaming blade, I renewed my resolve.
This time, in this life—!
I will reach the Heart Sword Realm, no matter what.
Attaining such a state requires several factors: innate talent, relentless effort, unexpected enlightenment, and astonishing serendipity.
In my previous life, I experienced all of these.
I possessed talent, poured in effort, and gained both serendipity and enlightenment.
As a result, I ascended to the position of Foremost Person Under Heaven.
But to reach the Heart Sword Realm, one more element was needed:
Heavenly Fortune.
To achieve the desired outcome, luck—or divine favor—was needed to bring together all the aforementioned elements at the right moment.
I would attempt the challenge again in this life.
Only time would tell if such fortune would elude me once more.
"Go fetch the whetstone."
"The whetstone? You're not planning to smash my skull with it, are you?"
"I'm going to sharpen my sword."
"Who exactly are you planning to kill?"
When I shot Gwangdu a pointed glare, he flinched and backed away.
"Stop joking around."
"Why do you think I'm joking? Aren't madmen always the first to kill those closest to them?"
"How do you know that?"
How do I know? Because they're the kind of people I've seen most throughout my life. I've witnessed countless lunatics driven to madness, slaughtering their own families.
"Wait, did you just call me the closest person to you?"
"Did I?"
Gwangdu looked at me with a puzzled expression.
"Let's just say you're the closest person physically in this situation," I said.
Gwangdu scratched his temple and replied, "That makes even less sense."
A moment later, Gwangdu brought over a whetstone, and I began sharpening my sword with smooth, practiced strokes.
Swish, swish, swish, swish.
Watching my deft movements, Gwangdu tilted his head curiously. "You're quite skilled. When did you learn to maintain a sword like that?"
Having lived my entire life with a sword at my side, my sword maintenance skills naturally surpassed those of most blacksmiths in the iron workshop.
"If you're this good, why haven't you done it before?"
"Everything has its proper time."
Gwangdu studied me intently before asking again, "Are you really okay? When someone suddenly changes..."
My hand paused momentarily. I looked up and met his worried gaze. I had seen that same concern in someone's eyes not long ago.
That was the look Baek Pyo gave me the day I died—a genuine, heartfelt concern for his opponent.
"I'm fine," I said.
Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch.
I resumed sharpening my sword.
If I were my past self, it wouldn't matter what kind of sword I wielded. Whether it was a stick I picked up from the ground or a priceless treasure sword, the outcome would be the same.
No, I probably wouldn't even need a sword. I'd kill with my bare hands, and if a sword were truly necessary, I'd simply snatch one from my opponent.
But now, a good sword was essential. My current body was in a state where dying like a dog was all too easy.
Gwangdu, sensing my mood, cautiously spoke up.
"You're not planning to use this sword to take revenge on Miss Song, are you? You absolutely mustn't."
Just then, someone behind us picked up where Gwangdu left off.
"Is that truly your reason?"
I turned to see my mother, Im Yehwa, standing there.
Gwangdu sprang to his feet and bowed deeply.
"Great Madam, welcome."
Gwangdu stepped aside as Mother approached.
"Aren't you going to ask? Are you really planning to harm Hwarin?"
"That's not the reason."
"Then why are you sharpening your sword?"
This was likely the first time Mother had ever seen her son sharpening his sword. It was only natural for her to share Gwangdu's concerns.
"I'm going to start practicing martial arts in earnest from now on."
"You? Practicing martial arts?"
Mother was visibly shocked. Gwangdu, standing beside her, gaped.
"Gwangdu, what did he just say?"
"He said he's going to start practicing martial arts."
"Is he crazy?"
"Yes! We need to call a doctor, an exorcist, anything!"
How little I must have trained in martial arts all this time for them to react like this?
Mother finally let out a deep sigh.
"So, you're still seeking revenge on Hwarin, aren't you?"
Her eyes held the resolute strength of a seasoned warrior, but beneath that steely gaze lay a mother's love that no force could conceal.
In my previous life, I had no children.
Partly because I never met someone I loved, and partly because I didn't want my offspring caught in the ruthless power struggles that dominated our world.
Having never raised a child myself, I couldn't fully grasp her feelings. But surely, seventy years of life had given her more than just internal energy and wrinkles.
I could sense her genuine concern for her son. This woman would gladly sacrifice her life for her child.
"Would you mind examining this sword?"
I presented her with the newly polished blade. She inspected it closely, then gasped in surprise at its exceptional craftsmanship.
"I don't know what I'll do with this sword in the future," she said, her gaze shifting from the blade to me.
"But at least this sword will never be used to stab a woman bound by a prenatal engagement. Nor will it be used to oppress those weaker than me. I promise this as your son."
A strange light flickered in her eyes as she looked at me. It was likely the first time she had ever heard such words from her son.
To be honest, I felt guilty toward her.
After all, I wasn't her real son.
But the guilt of deceiving her prevented me from revealing the truth.
Because the truth doesn't always lead to good outcomes.
Knowing the truth would only bring her misery—the realization that her son had vanished forever, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell.
I have no intention of telling her that cruel truth, no matter how this story, which began when I became her son, ultimately ends.
Until then, I plan to continue living as her son.
I took back the sword I had given her.
"Don't worry... Mother."
After a polite bow, I turned and left. I could feel her troubled gaze following me until the very end, as she struggled to understand how to accept her son's transformation.
Two more days passed.
Still no news of my death reached my ears, and I gradually began to adapt to life in Byeok Ridan.
Through Gwangdu, I learned about the members of my family, one by one. He explained who was who and what their personalities were like.
Thanks to my remarkably improved memory, I could remember everyone after hearing their names and descriptions just once.
The one thing I couldn't adapt to was myself—or more precisely, my body.
Living as the Greatest Expert Under Heaven, only to find myself reduced to living in Byeok Ridan, was incredibly difficult. It felt like going from being a general galloping across the wilderness on a thousand-mile steed to being a sloth riding on a turtle's back.
Deciding to focus on what I could do immediately, I ventured into the nearby mountain near my home.
I trudged up the snow-covered mountain path, where human footprints had long since vanished. Despite wearing a fur-lined coat, I shivered uncontrollably in the cold and nearly slipped several times during the ascent. This is something my former self could never have imagined, I thought, dreading how often I'd have to repeat this phrase in the future.
Near the summit, I discovered a small cave just large enough for two or three adults to sit inside.
I entered and settled into a cross-legged meditation posture.
My dantian held only five years of internal energy, and even that was a murky, trash-like residue.
Fortunately, the Cultivation Method I had mastered—Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol—was an unparalleled technique, considered the finest Cultivation Method in the current martial world. While it might not work on someone else's body, the internal energy in my dantian could certainly be purified and refined.
Following the Nine Secrets of the Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol, I began circulating my True Qi.
To my surprise, Byeok Ridan's meridians proved far sturdier than I had anticipated. This was a fortunate turn of events.
Woooooooong.
The vast sea of the Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol began to purify Byeok Ridan's tainted Internal Force, stagnant like dirty pond water.
As I circulated my True Qi through the First Cycle, Second Cycle, Third Cycle... until finally, after the Seventh Cycle, the five years of internal energy had been completely transformed into pure internal energy.
Though the process was completed in a short time, it was by no means an easy feat. It was only possible due to the combination of the supreme Cultivation Method, the Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol, and the insights of Cheon Hajin, the Foremost Person Under Heaven.
Now, I possessed five years of pure internal energy.
In my past life, my internal energy had been a full sixty years. After wielding two hundred and forty years of accumulated power, seeing a mere five years' worth now made me sigh involuntarily. Yet, as my internal energy refined and purified, I could circulate even the slightest trace of True Qi.
From now on, my primary task would be to increase my internal energy.
Fortunately, my past self had achieved Great Mastery of the Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol.
As a result, I could circulate Qi and regulate my breathing at any time, as long as I was conscious—even while walking or eating.
Moreover, the amount of internal energy generated within the same timeframe was incomparably greater than that of ordinary Cultivation Methods—at least three times more effective. If I could open the Ren and Du Meridians, I could achieve five times the efficiency, and if I reached Marrow Cleansing and Bone Transformation, the effect would increase tenfold or more.
From now on, my sole focus would be to continuously increase my internal energy. Except for sleeping hours, I planned to circulate the Cheonmu Hoshim Gyeol technique without interruption.
My next priority was to begin seriously building my fundamental physical strength.
While internal energy forms the bedrock of martial arts, fundamental physical strength is even more crucial. A robust physique allows both internal and external arts to unleash their full, devastating power.
When I descended from the mountain and returned home, Gwangdu rushed toward me in a panic.
"It's a disaster!" he exclaimed.
I immediately braced myself, thinking, This is it. The news of my death has finally arrived.
But the news turned out to be far more unexpected than I'd anticipated.
"Master Song has arrived," Gwangdu announced.
"Who's that?" I asked, bewildered.
"I'm talking about Great Hero Song Ugyeong, Miss Song's father."
"So he's here. What's all the fuss about?"
"Miss Song is with him!"
Song Hwarin—my betrothed since before birth, Shandong's Fairest Maiden, the woman who beat me senseless.
She was certainly someone Gwangdu would make a fuss over, but my heart remained calm.
"They've been waiting for you since earlier. Where have you been all this time?"
"Why are they looking for me?"
"What do you mean, 'why'? You need to apologize to Miss Song."
"But she was the one who beat me up! She should be apologizing to me."
"But you provoked her in the first place! This isn't the time for that—hurry up and go!"
Gwangdu practically shoved me toward the guest quarters.