First Sword Among Wanderers.
A byname bestowed upon the man said to possess the finest swordsmanship of all wandering martial artists.
It was the name Baek Yanghwi had earned after leaving his family and roaming the martial world for more than ten years.
Yanghwi, however, had never liked it.
“Those damned busybodies and their big mouths. Slap some label in front of ‘First Sword’ and suddenly it’s supposed to mean something.”
First Sword of Sichuan. First Sword of Wudang. First Sword of the Younger Generation. The list went on.
“At this rate, some third-rate Black Path gang in a back alley is going to come up with its own First Sword. A bunch of idiots beat each other up, and next thing you know, one of them is strutting around calling himself the First Sword of the Black Serpent Sect.”
Behind him, his fellow wanderer—the man known by the byname Hundred-Li Pursuer, or simply Chudal—snickered as he followed Yanghwi up the mountain path.
“Still, Brother, being called the First Sword when you’re only a wanderer is nothing to scoff at. Come on. You know you like it.”
“Chudal, Chudal. Chu as in ‘ugly,’ dal as in ‘otter.’ My dear Chudal.”
Chudal immediately bristled.
“It’s chu as in ‘pursue’ and dal as in ‘mastery’! The name means I’m a master tracker who never loses anyone within a hundred li!”
“Sure, Chudal. Then why do you think your byname starts with a hundred li instead of ten thousand? Hell, not even a thousand?”
“……”
“Because that’s exactly the level you’re at.”
“Damn it! Is that any way to talk to your younger brother?”
“Why not? I can say the same thing about myself. I’m still nothing more than the First Sword Among Wanderers.”
He said it with a laugh, but the self-deprecation beneath it was unmistakable.
Chudal snorted.
“Says the man who reached the Transcendent Realm before forty.”
Chudal was certain of one thing.
Had his sworn elder brother ever revealed the full extent of his martial arts, the world would have given him a very different byname.
“Don’t bother trying to sound tragic.”
“You caught me?”
“You were born into a third-rate martial family and reached the Transcendent Realm before you even turned forty. You think that’s easy?”
On top of that, Yanghwi had amassed enough wealth for three generations of his descendants to live in luxury.
No matter how much he tried to downplay himself, it only sounded like an obnoxious humblebrag.
And yet—
“It’s still not enough. If I want to turn a third-rate martial family into a great clan, I’ve got a long way to go.”
That was Yanghwi’s dream.
His goal.
To raise his insignificant third-rate family into the ranks of the great clans.
“You really are relentless, Brother. Twenty years wandering around as a hired sword, all so you could pile up money and create new martial arts.”
Yanghwi gave a crooked smile.
“Heartbreaking, isn’t it? In that case, why don’t you invest all the money you’ve saved in this pitiful elder brother of yours?”
“Ahem! Where did you learn the wicked habit of coveting the marriage fund of an old bachelor who’s already missed his best years?”
“I’ll make you an elder of Baek Family Manor in return.”
“I could walk into practically any sect right now and get better treatment than that!”
Yanghwi shot him down at once.
“With a range of only a hundred li? Who the hell is giving you elder-level treatment? Just join my family already, you brat.”
“Not a chance!”
“Fine, then how about this? The payment for this commission from the Namgung Clan. I take seven shares, you take three.”
“Are you going to keep spouting nonsense?”
“What part of that is nonsense?”
Yanghwi slowly came to a halt.
At the same time, his hand settled on the hilt of his sword.
“You still haven’t noticed.”
Chudal froze.
“You mean…?”
“Yeah. Get ready.”
Shing!
Yanghwi and Chudal drew their swords at the same time.
Bushes rustled on every side.
More than ten masked figures dressed in black emerged from the undergrowth.
Eleven. Judging by their presence, they’re well trained. But why surround us just to launch an ambush?
Yanghwi kept his suspicions from showing and spoke with his usual shameless ease.
“Black must be fashionable in the Green Forest these days.”
“They say you possess the finest swordsmanship among all wanderers. It seems your senses are equally impressive.”
“My swordsmanship is only the best among wanderers, but this nose of mine? Peerless under heaven. The stink around here is so foul I can barely stand it. Don’t you agree, Chudal?”
Chudal immediately played along.
“Heh heh. Brother’s right. I’ve been smelling something rotten for a while now. Looking at them, I’d wager it’s coming from those bastards’ faces.”
“They must know it themselves. Why else would they wrap their faces in that much cloth?”
“In this younger brother’s humble opinion, their faces are probably every bit as rotten as the smell.”
“Now that makes sense! Hahaha!”
“Not one li of sense, Brother. Say it makes a hundred li of sense! Heh heh heh!”
The two traded insults and snickered away.
Several masked men failed to suppress their anger and reacted without thinking.
That was all Yanghwi and Chudal needed.
They moved at once.
Their targets were the two men who had let their emotions show.
Schk!
“Kraagh!”
That brief lapse earned one masked man a one-way trip to the afterlife.
Yanghwi raised his sword vertically and caught a blade sweeping in from his flank.
Clang!
“Chudal, go!”
“Got it!”
Chudal planted a foot on Yanghwi’s shoulder and launched himself high into the air. He sailed straight over the encirclement, then activated his lightness technique.
His figure rapidly shrank into the distance.
Yanghwi whistled.
“Whew! That bastard Chudal really is peerless when it comes to running away. If you don’t want word of this ambush spreading everywhere, you’d better hurry after him, you sons of bitches.”
One of the masked men flashed a hand signal.
Nine of them immediately gave chase.
Only one remained.
The man who appeared to be their leader.
That’s unexpected.
Yanghwi had intended to break their encirclement and force the enemy to divide their forces, introducing an element they hadn’t planned for.
He had not expected all but one of them to leave.
“I may only be the First Sword Among Wanderers, but that still counts for something. You sure you want to face me alone?”
The masked man silently drew his sword.
“Oh? A swordsman. From the look of you, I’m guessing someone somewhere has called you a First Sword too.”
“……”
The man remained silent.
If he was going to play mute, Yanghwi might as well guess for him.
“Wearing a mask in the middle of this sweltering heat… I’ve got it. First Sword Among Ugly Men! The finest swordsman in the world of ugly bastards! That’s your true identity!”
“…Now that I look at you properly, you’re no First Sword Among Wanderers. You’re the First Tongue Among Wanderers.”
“Oh, I’ll admit my tongue is pretty damn impressive. Want me to surprise you again?”
Yanghwi continued.
“Why is our employer, the Namgung Clan, ambushing us?”
He had not crossed blades with the man long enough to study his techniques.
Nor had he sensed the distinctive qualities of the man’s internal art through his aura.
Yet Yanghwi had seen through his identity at a glance.
“…You truly are dangerous.”
The masked man removed his mask.
The moment Yanghwi saw his face, genuine shock flashed across his own.
“You—!”
To be First meant to stand above all others.
And if there could be only one true First, then it could only be the greatest under heaven.
The Greatest Clan Under Heaven.
The mighty Namgung Clan.
And the man before him was its young clan head.
“Young Clan Head. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Namgung Cheonyeong answered with a grave expression.
“I cannot allow the Baek Clan, once one wing of the Five Great Clans, to recover its true martial legacy.”
That was the real reason Yanghwi had left his family and wandered the martial world.
He had been trying to restore the ancestral martial arts his family had lost.
“You reached the Transcendent Realm with nothing but third-rate martial arts. As if that were not enough, you then raised the depth of your martial learning to the level of a divine art. I am sorry, First Sword Among Wanderers.”
Yanghwi did not bother asking how Cheonyeong had discovered any of that when he had always kept his true abilities hidden.
He merely snorted.
“Well, I did pull off something impressive. Something even the young clan head of mighty Namgung couldn’t manage.”
Though it nearly killed me. Qi deviation is one hell of a price to pay.
Had the qi deviation not damaged the acupoints throughout his body, Yanghwi might already have caught a glimpse of a realm beyond his current one.
But that was beside the point.
“To think the mighty Namgung Clan would pay this much attention to one third-rate martial family. Is this kind of thoroughness how you managed to monopolize the title of Greatest Clan Under Heaven?”
Namgung Cheonyeong did not deny it.
He merely smiled bitterly.
“Jiangxi and Anhui are too close. I cannot afford to ignore you.”
“You took off your mask. Means you have no intention of letting me leave alive.”
“It is also a courtesy to you.”
“You confident you can kill me?”
“……”
Cheonyeong gave no answer.
His silence was answer enough.
And there was good reason for his confidence.
Whenever people spoke of those most likely to become the future Greatest Sword Under Heaven, Namgung Cheonyeong was invariably counted among the foremost candidates.
A once-in-ages prodigy, hailed as the greatest swordsman the Namgung Clan had produced in generations.
But Yanghwi was not the sort of man to shrink back just because his opponent was extraordinary.
“I spent eighteen years rebuilding my family’s Heaven-Covering Sword from the ground up. This is as good a chance as any to see what my Sovereign Sword Form can really do.”
A savage grin tugged at the corner of Yanghwi’s mouth.
Then he launched himself at Namgung Cheonyeong.
CLANG!
Their life-and-death duel began with a single violent collision.
By the clock, it lasted four hours.
By the sword, more than a thousand moves.
At the end of that long struggle, the outcome was finally decided.
Schk! Schk!
Two wet sounds of steel piercing flesh.
One heart was run through.
One arm was severed at the shoulder.
“Cough!”
Bloody foam spilled from Namgung Cheonyeong’s lips.
His trembling hand reached toward Yanghwi.
It came close as though he meant to seize him by the throat, only to fall weakly onto Yanghwi’s shoulder.
“I am… sorry…”
The light vanished from Cheonyeong’s eyes.
Yanghwi pulled his sword free from the man’s heart.
Then, no longer possessing the strength to remain standing, he collapsed.
“Sorry, my ass.”
You think saying sorry after doing something rotten makes everything fine?
If that were enough, why would the martial world bother declaring anyone a public enemy?
Even as those thoughts ran through his mind, a deep sense of satisfaction welled up inside him.
I won.
The man hailed as the First Sword of Namgung, who had been fed countless precious elixirs since childhood and trained in peerless divine arts—
had lost to the First Sword Among Wanderers.
Yanghwi had proven it.
The martial art he had restored for his family was peerless in the martial world.
Now I just have to get it back to the family…
Then—
“Young Clan Head!”
“You bastard!”
The masked men who had gone after Chudal returned.
…Chudal.
One of them was carrying Chudal’s severed head.
Yanghwi had been their true target.
He had thought that perhaps, just perhaps, Chudal might survive if he escaped.
So they caught him anyway. Didn’t want to leave a witness, huh?
Yanghwi staggered back to his feet.
Namgung Cheonyeong had been anything but an easy opponent.
Yanghwi’s body was already in ruins.
“You know something?”
Shing!
“Chudal’s one wish was to get married.”
One masked man’s head flew from his shoulders in a single stroke.
“And you killed a guy like that? Aren’t you bastards afraid of being haunted by the ghost of a man who died single?”
Shhk!
A sword punched into Yanghwi’s abdomen.
In exchange, he rammed his own blade straight through his attacker’s heart.
“Kill him! Attack from all six directions at once!”
“You dumb bastard. Unless you can burrow underground, how the hell are you planning to attack from all six directions?”
Two swords sank into Yanghwi’s back.
In return, he drove steel through both men’s mouths.
Six remained.
The Hundred and Eight Heaven-Covering Swords erupted.
A dazzling sword dance spread in every direction, as though veiling the very sky.
“Chudal. Chudal. Chu as in ‘ugly,’ dal as in ‘otter.’ You watching this?”
Schk! Schk! Schk!
Five of the six died beneath his sword.
The price was wounds so severe that Yanghwi could no longer take even a single step.
Only one remained.
“Come on.”
Yanghwi sank to one knee.
Blood covered him from head to toe.
He no longer had the strength even to stand, yet the murderous pressure rolling off him was like that of a vengeful demon.
“C-come on, you bastard.”
“U-uh…”
Perhaps that was why the last masked man chose to flee instead of attacking.
“Oh, come on. Way to ruin the mood at the very end.”
Yanghwi gathered the last dregs of his true qi and hurled his sword.
The flying blade shot through the air and punched through the man’s back.
Schk!
Only after seeing the bastard collapse did Yanghwi finally let the tension drain from his body.
“Chudal.”
His voice came out quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
To avenge you properly, I’d have to tear the entire Namgung Clan apart.
Even I can’t pull that off.
Strength ebbed from every part of his body.
As surely as his blood drained away, his consciousness faded with it.
“I have to… get back… to my family…”
He no longer had enough strength even to keep his eyes open.
His vision went dark.
*****
The earthen cave reeked of filth and waterlogged mud.
It was utterly disgusting.
And painfully familiar.
Because this was where Yanghwi had first found a family.
So it really is true. Your life flashes before your eyes right before you die.
Wait.
Does that mean I’ll get to see Father soon?
At this point in his life, Yanghwi had been the youngest member of a band of beggars.
He had survived by begging until men of the Black Path kidnapped him, intending to sell him into slavery.
That had been Yanghwi’s fate.
The man who changed it was his adoptive father.
Peerless in Chivalry, Baek Muryang.
The master of Baek Family Manor in Wuzhou, Jiangxi Province.
A righteous man renowned throughout the region for his chivalrous deeds.
Father should be coming soon. He’ll crush these Black Path bastards and rescue me.
Lost in the haze, Yanghwi replayed the past.
“Child, you are free now. Go home.”
Even after Baek Muryang rescued him, Yanghwi had not moved.
He had nowhere to go.
There was no reason to leave.
Begging was all he knew, and wherever he lay down to sleep, the same sky served as his roof.
His father had looked at him and asked:
“Why do you not leave?”
What did I say back then? Something like, I’ll move when I’m hungry enough, so don’t worry about me and be on your way, Hero?
At that moment, the father in his memory continued.
“I saved you because it was the righteous thing to do, yet your suffering has not ended. How could I simply leave you like this?”
Baek Muryang knelt on one knee before the boy.
“What is your name?”
Thirty years ago, on this very day, his father had asked him the same question.
The memory was impossibly vivid.
Without realizing it, Yanghwi opened his mouth.
“I don’t have one. Ever since I was little, people have only called me ‘you bastard’ or ‘that brat.’”
“How can a human being be born into this world and not even be given a name…?”
Baek Muryang sighed.
“Perhaps this meeting, too, is fate. Then how about this?”
He extended his hand.
“We met in a dark earthen cave, but I hope the life ahead of you will be bright and radiant.”
He smiled.
“So I shall call you Yanghwi—sunlight and radiance.”
“Take my surname as well.”
“From today onward, you are Baek Yanghwi.”
A large hand filled the boy’s vision.
It was covered in thick calluses.
And yet, somehow, it looked soft.
Warm.
“I feel that fate has brought us together.”
“Yanghwi.”
“Will you become my son?”
On that day thirty years ago, the nameless boy everyone had called bastard gained both a name and a family.
“Yanghwi, this is Baek Family Manor.”
“This will be your home from now on.”
Clean clothes.
Warm food.
A kind father.
Adorable younger siblings.
A happiness he had never known once in his entire life.
Naturally, Baek Family Manor became more precious to Yanghwi than anything else in the world.
“Hwi.”
One day, his father sat him down over a drink and revealed his ambition.
“This father of yours has a dream.”
“I want our Baek Family to reclaim its place among the great clans and once again command Jiangxi Province.”
The father’s dream became the son’s.
From that day forward, Yanghwi devoted himself to raising the Baek Family into a great clan.
But there was a problem.
With our family’s martial arts… it was impossible.
No matter how talented I was, what could I possibly accomplish with martial arts so shallow that I mastered them completely in just three years?
It was true.
The ancestral martial arts of the Baek Family were third-rate.
The foundation of a martial family was martial might.
How could a family with no proper foundation in the martial arts ever rise into the ranks of the great clans?
After all those years wandering and honing my martial arts, I finally managed to create something worthy of being called a divine art…
And what good had it done?
He had died before he could even pass it on.
Damn it.
If he had known things would end this way, he should have gone home sooner.
But something was strange.
Shouldn’t he be dead by now?
Why was this vision of his past still going?
The instant that thought crossed his mind—
[Defy Heaven, Exchange Fate]
[The heaven-defying current has changed the course of fate.]
[Return to the Proper Course, Follow the Flow]
[What has gone astray must be set right, that it may flow as it should.]
[Return to the Point, Fulfill Your Wish]
[Go back and do what you desire.]
A voice seared itself into his ears—
No.
Into his mind.
No.
Into his very soul, like a brand.
Instinctively, Yanghwi understood.
This was no final vision before death.
The father standing before him was real.
I went back?
I traveled back through time?
How in the world…?
As though entranced, Yanghwi stared at his father’s younger face.
Everything felt unbearably real.
“Father.”
“Yes.”
Baek Muryang laughed.
“From this day onward, I, Baek Muryang, am your father. Hahaha!”
Yanghwi did not understand.
He had no idea what had happened.
But—
if he had truly been given one more chance…
This time.
This time, I will fulfill it.
My wish.
My dream.
“I will make Baek Family Manor the greatest martial clan under heaven.”
His voice did not waver.
“I swear it.”