The wind carried the scent of burning earth, drifting across endless mountains before sweeping through a lonely valley where black clouds swallowed the afternoon sun. Ash fell like silent snow, covering broken stones and withered trees in a thin gray veil.
At the center of the valley, a boy opened his eyes.
The world was unfamiliar, cold, and heavy. His breathing came unevenly as pain spread through every part of his body. He tried to move, but his fingers dug into damp soil instead.
"...Where..."
The words barely escaped his lips. His memories were a shattered mirror — a hospital corridor, blinding white lights, the shrill scream of tires, someone calling his name. Then, darkness.
He closed his eyes again. Fragments flashed through his mind before vanishing just as quickly. Nothing made sense yet.
A faint warmth suddenly spread through his chest. Thump. Thump. His heartbeat grew stronger, and at the same time, something beneath the ground answered it.
Buzz...
The vibration was so gentle that anyone else would have mistaken it for the wind. The boy turned his head. Several steps away, half buried beneath cracked stone, rested two ancient swords — one black as the deepest night, the other gleaming like silver moonlight. Neither radiated overwhelming spiritual pressure. Instead, they simply existed: silent, ancient, waiting.
The boy stared at them without blinking. He didn't know why, but the moment he saw them, his heart calmed, as though they had always belonged there — as though they had always been waiting for him.
He forced himself onto one knee. Every movement felt heavier than the last. His body wasn't the body he remembered. It was younger, much younger — small hands, slender arms, barely thirteen or fourteen years old.
"...Reincarnation..."
The unfamiliar word slipped from his mouth before he realized it. A bitter smile appeared.
"So that's what happened..."
No fear. No panic. Only quiet acceptance. Complaining wouldn't change reality. If fate had given him another life, then he would live it.
He reached for the black sword. The instant his fingertips touched the hilt—
Buzz—
The valley trembled. Not violently — like an old friend waking from a long sleep. The silver sword responded moments later, a soft, clear hum echoing through the silent valley. The two swords resonated with one another. The air itself seemed to pause.
The boy frowned. "...You know me?"
No answer came. Yet somehow, he understood. Not through words — through feeling. Acceptance. Recognition. Home.
"...Interesting."
He grasped the black sword. It didn't resist. There was no dazzling light, no explosion of power, no heavenly phenomenon. It simply allowed itself to be lifted. The silver sword followed. The moment both swords rested at his waist, the strange resonance disappeared, and the valley returned to silence.
The boy looked toward the mountains. He had no name in this world, no family, no memories beyond the fragments of another life. Only two mysterious swords — and a foreign sky stretching endlessly above him.
He drew a slow breath.
"First... I survive."
A distant roar echoed through the valley. Not thunder — a beast. Several birds burst from the forest and scattered into the sky. The boy's eyes sharpened. Someone, or something, was approaching.
Without hesitation, he stepped toward the shadowed forest. The world had given him a second beginning. Whatever waited beyond those trees, he would face it, one step at a time.
The forest welcomed him with silence — not the peaceful silence of untouched nature, but the oppressive silence of a place where every living creature had learned to fear.
Xu Yuan slowed his breathing. Years of instinct from another life surfaced naturally. When he had hunted in the mountains back on Earth, silence often meant danger. The same principle applied here — only this world's dangers were far deadlier.
His fingers rested lightly on the black sword's hilt, not because he intended to draw it, but because touching it somehow calmed his mind.
Crunch...
A broken branch snapped somewhere ahead. Xu Yuan dropped into a crouch, his eyes sweeping across the surrounding trees. Nothing — only swaying branches beneath the cold wind. But the sound hadn't been made carelessly. Whatever approached knew how to hide.
Another step. Another. Then—
A pair of emerald eyes emerged from the bushes. A wolf, its body nearly twice the size of an ordinary wolf. Dark gray fur covered lean muscles, and thin threads of spiritual energy flowed around its claws. The beast lowered its body.
Growl...
Xu Yuan remained motionless. Running was impossible; turning his back would only invite death.
The wolf observed him. Its instincts told it something strange — the prey before it wasn't trembling, wasn't shouting, wasn't trying to escape. Instead, the young human watched it without flinching, almost as though they were judging each other.
Xu Yuan exhaled. "So... you're my first test."
The wolf lunged.
Boom!
Its speed far exceeded anything an ordinary animal could achieve. Xu Yuan threw himself sideways as sharp claws tore through the tree behind him, bark exploding into the air.
"...Fast." Much faster than Earth's predators.
The wolf spun back at once, giving him no time to recover. Again. Again. Again. Each attack grew fiercer than the last. Xu Yuan rolled beneath another slash before grabbing a fallen branch — not a weapon, only a stick, but still better than empty hands.
The wolf laughed in its own way, a low growl vibrating through its chest, and charged once more. Xu Yuan stepped forward instead. The branch struck the beast's nose.
Crack!
The wolf yelped and staggered backward — not enough to injure it, but enough to interrupt its rhythm.
Xu Yuan's eyes brightened. "Good... it feels pain." Every creature had weaknesses, even if their bodies surpassed humans.
The wolf became furious. Spiritual energy gathered around its claws, and the surrounding grass bent beneath invisible pressure. Xu Yuan frowned. "So that's spiritual energy..." He had heard countless fantasy stories in his previous life, but seeing it with his own eyes was entirely different. The pressure alone made breathing difficult.
The wolf disappeared — not truly, only too fast for an ordinary person's eyes. Xu Yuan reacted purely on instinct, his body twisting, but the claws brushed across his shoulder. Blood splashed onto the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his arm.
"...Haa..."
He retreated several steps. The wound wasn't deep, but he had learned something: the wolf's speed wasn't limitless. It accelerated in a straight line, and in that brief instant before changing direction, it slowed — only slightly, but enough.
Xu Yuan adjusted his footing without a sound. The wolf attacked again. This time, he didn't dodge immediately. He waited. Closer. Closer. Closer... Now.
His body shifted half a step. The claws missed his chest by less than an inch. At the same moment, his hand instinctively reached toward the black sword. The blade left its sheath.
Shing—
No dazzling light, no overwhelming aura — only an impossibly clean slash. The wolf froze. It landed several meters away, took another step, then another, before its body split apart.
Silence returned.
Xu Yuan stared at the sword in disbelief. "I... did that?"
He looked down at the blade. Not a single drop of blood remained upon it — the sword had swallowed every trace.
"...You're strange."
Buzz...
The blade answered with a faint hum. Xu Yuan couldn't help smiling. For the first time since waking in this strange new world, he felt slightly less alone.
Just then, a warm current suddenly flowed from the fallen beast into his body — not through his wound, not through his breathing, but directly into his chest. His heartbeat quickened, and the surrounding spiritual energy became clearer. Leaves. Wind. Water beneath the earth. Everything carried a hushed, invisible rhythm.
Xu Yuan closed his eyes. "So... this is spiritual energy."
Far away, high atop a cliff hidden by clouds, an old man dressed in coarse gray robes lowered the fishing rod in his hand.
"Hm..."
A gentle smile appeared. "The swords have chosen." He looked toward the vast forest where the young boy stood alone. "The world... will not remain peaceful much longer."
The old man raised his eyes toward the heavens. Above the clouds, an ancient presence stirred.
Xu Yuan remained where he stood. The forest was quiet once again. Fresh blood seeped into the earth before disappearing beneath thick roots.
He looked at the black sword, then at the wolf, then back at the sword. "I won because of you..."
Buzz...
The blade gave another soft response. Xu Yuan smiled helplessly. "No. I survived because we fought together."
He wiped the hilt clean with his sleeve before returning the sword to its sheath.
Click.
The sound echoed softly through the forest. The silver sword remained quiet, as though it were simply watching.
Xu Yuan crouched beside the wolf. Back on Earth, he had watched enough survival documentaries to know one thing: nothing useful should be wasted. The hide, the claws, the teeth, even the meat — everything had value. Unfortunately, he possessed neither the tools nor the experience.
"...Looks like today's lesson isn't cultivation. It's survival."
He searched the surroundings until he found several sharp stones. After nearly half an hour of clumsy effort—
"Haa... much harder than I imagined."
His hands were covered in scratches, but he managed to remove several intact claws and a pair of long fangs. The hide would have to wait.
As he packed the materials inside a bundle made from broad leaves—
Rustle.
Xu Yuan shot to his feet. This time it wasn't a beast. Several human voices drifted through the trees.
"...There!" "I found footprints!" "Search carefully!" "They couldn't have gone far!"
Xu Yuan's gaze sharpened. Hunters? Bandits? Cultivators? He couldn't tell. Without understanding this world's rules, meeting strangers wasn't necessarily a good thing. He climbed onto a large tree without a sound, dense branches concealing his figure.
Moments later, five men wearing rough leather armor appeared below. Each carried a spear. One wore a bow across his back; another had a short sword at his waist. None looked wealthy, and their expressions were exhausted.
"...Blood."
The leader crouched near the wolf's corpse, his eyes widening. "Spirit Wolf... killed with one strike?"
The others exchanged uneasy glances. "...Could it be a senior cultivator?"
The leader shook his head. "No spiritual fluctuations remain. ...Strange."
One younger hunter swallowed. "Should we leave? If the senior is nearby... we're dead."
The leader remained silent. After a long moment, he looked toward the surrounding forest. "If Senior is watching... thank you for removing this beast. Our village has already lost three people to it." He respectfully cupped his fists toward the empty woods.
Xu Yuan watched from above, unseen. So — they weren't searching for him. They were searching for the wolf.
The hunters soon discovered the missing claws.
"...Someone harvested them."
The younger hunter frowned. "A wandering cultivator?"
The leader rose. "Whoever it was... they spared us another funeral." He looked toward the sky. "Let's go. The village is waiting."
One after another, the hunters disappeared into the forest. Xu Yuan remained hidden for several more minutes. Only after confirming they had truly left did he climb down.
"...Village..."
He repeated the unfamiliar word softly. If he wanted information, people were his best choice. If he wanted to survive, he couldn't remain alone forever.
The afternoon sun gradually broke through the gray clouds. For the first time, warm light reached the valley. Xu Yuan followed the hunters' footprints from a distance — not too close, not too far. Careful and slow.
Every few hundred steps, he stopped to observe. His previous life's habits naturally resurfaced: watch first, act later. That principle had saved him countless times. Perhaps it would save him again.
Nearly an hour later, the trees finally grew thinner. Smoke rose beyond the forest. Wooden fences. Fields. Children running between houses. A quiet village nestled beneath towering mountains.
Xu Yuan stopped. This would become the first place he stepped into after beginning his second life.
Unknown to him, at the village entrance, a young girl carrying a basket suddenly paused. She turned toward the distant forest. For just an instant, her eyes met Xu Yuan's across the fields. The wind lifted a few loose strands of her dark hair.
Neither spoke. Neither moved. Yet an unspoken feeling stirred between them.
Before Xu Yuan could look more carefully, she lowered her head and continued walking as though nothing had happened.
A small smile touched Xu Yuan's lips. "So... my new life begins here."
Without realizing it, the two ancient swords resting at his waist gave the faintest of vibrations, as though acknowledging, in their own way, that destiny had taken its first step.
Xu Yuan didn't enter the village immediately. Instead, he climbed a small hill overlooking the fields. The setting sun dyed the farmland a warm golden color. Farmers gathered bundles of grain. Children chased each other along narrow dirt paths. Smoke curled from dozens of chimneys, and laughter drifted with the evening breeze.
His gaze lingered on the peaceful scene. Back on Earth, he had spent years surrounded by concrete buildings, endless traffic, and hurried footsteps. Life here was slower, simpler. Yet beneath that simplicity, he had already witnessed a Spirit Beast powerful enough to kill ordinary people. This world wasn't peaceful — people had simply learned to live alongside danger.
"Haa..." Xu Yuan let out a long breath. "If I'm going to survive, I need to understand this world before this world understands me."
He remained on the hill until dusk, watching, observing.
The hunters returned. Several villagers hurried over.
"What happened?" "Did you find it?"
The leader nodded. "The Spirit Wolf is dead."
A wave of relief spread through the crowd. Some sighed, others smiled. One elderly woman quietly wiped tears from the corner of her eyes.
"...Finally."
Xu Yuan noticed the mood — no one celebrated loudly. Three villagers had already died. The beast's death wasn't a victory; it was simply the end of a long nightmare.
A young boy suddenly asked, "Father... who killed it?"
The hunter scratched his beard. "I don't know. Perhaps a wandering cultivator."
The child blinked. "A hero?"
The hunter smiled. "...Maybe."
Xu Yuan looked away. Hero... he had never considered himself one. He simply wanted another chance to live.
Darkness gradually fell across the mountains. Torches lit one after another inside the village. Xu Yuan finally descended the hill, his footsteps light, neither hurried nor hesitant. He stopped several dozen meters from the wooden gate.
Two guards spotted him at once. "...Who's there?"
Xu Yuan calmly raised both hands. "I don't mean any harm."
The older guard studied him from head to toe — young, travel-worn, a sword at each side. Yet there was no spiritual pressure, no arrogance. Just exhaustion.
"Where are you from?"
Xu Yuan fell silent for a brief moment. "...I don't know."
The answer startled even himself. It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the whole truth.
The guards exchanged puzzled glances. "You don't know?"
"I woke up in the mountains. I remember almost nothing before that."
The older guard narrowed his eyes. He had seen liars before, and this boy didn't look like one. His eyes were too calm, too straightforward. Almost lonely.
Another voice suddenly interrupted. "Let him in."
The guards immediately stepped aside. An elderly man approached from inside the village. His white hair reached his shoulders, and although dressed plainly, his every movement carried quiet dignity.
The older guard respectfully lowered his head. "Village Chief."
The chief simply nodded before looking at Xu Yuan. For several moments, neither spoke. Xu Yuan felt strangely transparent beneath those aged eyes — not judged, seen.
Finally, the chief smiled. "Haha... young man, whatever happened before today, it can wait until tomorrow." He turned toward the village. "No one should spend the night outside."
Xu Yuan looked at the old man's back. "...You're trusting me?"
The chief chuckled. "No. I simply trust my own eyes. If they're wrong, this old man has lived long enough to accept the consequences."
Xu Yuan said nothing for a moment. Then he cupped his fists. "...Thank you."
The chief waved a hand casually. "Come. The children will start staring if you stand there any longer."
Sure enough, several curious little heads were already peeking from behind nearby houses. The moment Xu Yuan noticed them, they quickly disappeared — only to peek out again a heartbeat later.
One little girl whispered, "His swords are pretty..."
Another child shot back, "They're scary..."
Xu Yuan couldn't help smiling. Children were the same everywhere.
The village wasn't large — barely sixty households. Most homes were built from wood and stone. Gardens surrounded nearly every house, medicinal herbs growing beside vegetables. Even the wells emitted faint traces of spiritual energy.
Xu Yuan memorized everything — every road, every building, every escape route. Old habits died slowly.
The chief stopped before a modest wooden house. "You may stay here for now. The owner passed away last winter. No family remains."
Xu Yuan gently pushed open the door. Simple furniture — a wooden bed, a table, two chairs. Nothing luxurious, yet warm. He ran his fingers across the worn tabletop. For the first time since arriving in this world, he finally had a place to rest.
The chief stood at the doorway. "Tomorrow morning, we'll talk."
Xu Yuan nodded. "I'll be ready."
The old man smiled before leaving. The door closed. Silence filled the small house.
Xu Yuan placed both swords beside the bed, then looked through the small window toward the countless strange stars.
"...A second life. Let's see where it leads."
Outside, far beyond the village, something enormous stirred deep beneath the mountains. Two ancient eyes opened within endless darkness — not awakened by spiritual energy, not awakened by killing intent, but by the arrival of the one carrying the Twin Divine Swords.