Chapter 212
Chapter 212
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**Chapter 212: The Sword’s Origin**
Life is merely the sum of the days we have lived. When you trace those days backward, you inevitably come to the very first memory you hold.
For Hyun Geom, the beginning of his life was nothing but a wash of crimson.
“Hahaha! Kill every last one of them!”
“Slaughter them all and set this place ablaze! This shall be our banquet hall tonight!”
“And don’t forget to find where they’ve hidden their valuables before you finish them off, you fools!”
He did not know it then, but such sights were far from rare. Bandits who styled themselves “righteous thieves” wiping out an entire mountain village—this was how the world could be.
There was only one thing that made this memory different: it did not end with Hyun Geom’s death.
“You have cast aside all virtue.”
A being descended from the heavenly realms, a presence far beyond anything mortal eyes should see. Even a remote mountain village stretched across hundreds of jang, enough space to hold hundreds of lives—and Hyun Geom saw it all. Pristine, translucent white swords bloomed in every corner of the settlement.
“Gaaahhh!”
“Kraaaah!”
“Spare me… Kraaaah!”
Human beings are meant to walk upon the earth, yet the elder who had come down from the heavens showed no mercy. As if to say that the only sounds worth hearing from such as these were their dying gasps, every bandit fell beneath a single strike. And that one strike unfolded into hundreds of shining blades.
Soon after, the boy who could do nothing but huddle and tremble on the ground met the elder who had descended from the sky.
“Ah, little one. You are the only one left alive.”
His voice was gentle—though in time, Hyun Geom would forget exactly what emotion had colored those words. He had been utterly overwhelmed by the elder’s awe-inspiring presence.
“What is your name?”
“My… name…”
“Yes. Surely you have one.”
“I… I do not know.”
It was true. Parents, siblings, neighbors—all their names had slipped away, wiped from his mind by the shock of seeing them all slain. The trauma of that night had sealed his memories shut.
“Dear me. Grief has closed your soul. A sad, common thing. What am I to do with you?”
The Taiji Sword Elder did not simply declare this fate and take the boy as his disciple. He had saved him, but a life belongs first and foremost to the one who lives it. His duty was done; what came next was the boy’s own burden.
That was how it was meant to be—until the boy spoke.
“Swords… so many swords…”
Those few words stopped the Taiji Sword Elder in his tracks.
“You saw them?”
“Yes. They were brighter than anything I have ever seen.”
Here was a child from a forgotten mountain village, entirely untaught in even the most basic martial arts. And yet he claimed to have witnessed the Taiji Sword Elder’s Heart Sword—a blade none should have been able to see.
“You beheld the Heart Sword… a sight denied to nearly all.”
This was no ordinary child. He was a treasure, one with the potential to reach heights even beyond the heavenly realms.
“Child, have you somewhere to go?”
“I do not know.”
The elder asked question after question, and the boy answered each one honestly.
“You have lost everything, haven’t you? Not even your own beginning remains.”
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry? There is no need. This is a turning point. Today, a new destiny awaits you.”
The boy looked up into the elder’s eyes and felt the warmth, the bond being offered to him.
“Child, become my disciple. From this day forward, you shall be called Hyun Geom—a sword destined to travel to the very end of the infinite.”
To be needed by someone can become the very reason for living. The boy who would grow into Wudang Sect’s most gifted prodigy answered without hesitation.
“Thank you, Elder.”
“Call me Master.”
“Thank you, Master.”
And so Hyun Geom became the second most respected figure in all of Wudang. From the moment he joined, people spoke of him as the one who would carry the Wudang Supreme Sword to glory unmatched, bearing the hopes of the entire sect upon his shoulders.
“Hyun Geom, the bond between master and disciple is as sacred as the laws of heaven. A disciple must never fail his master, just as a master must never fail his disciple.”
So he lived. He strove to fulfill the wishes of the man who had given him a new life. More than that, he longed to wield the same dazzling array of swords he had seen that day—hundreds of blades moving as one. He trained with nothing but the sword. He had no mother, so he looked to the sword as a mother. When he woke, his hand closed around its hilt as if it were a brother. When he rested, he practiced his swings as though playing with a dearest friend.
This was his life.
“Hyun Geom, I shall ensure the martial world never forgets the will of my own master.”
His master lived to honor the one who had taught him. So it was only right that Hyun Geom should live to honor his master. This was the proper path. To embody the meaning of his name—*Hyun Geom, the sword that reaches without end*—that was his purpose, his whole life.
And he walked that path until very recently.
“Attend the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.”
“Master, must I go in person?”
Hyun Geom had long outpaced the achievements of ordinary disciples. Even the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, where the finest young talents of the age gathered, seemed little more than a game to him.
“It is for the good of Wudang.”
No further explanation was needed. Hyun Geom bowed his head.
“As you command, Master.”
“You have learned everything I have to teach perfectly. I leave all matters in the mortal world to your judgment.”
This had happened many times before. Hyun Geom stood second only to the Taiji Sword Elder himself; disciples older than him, yet far junior in standing, were reluctant to travel alongside him.
“I shall uphold your will faithfully, Master.”
With that, Hyun Geom left Mount Wudang and traveled to Wuhan, the heart of Hubei Province.
“The Yeonwol Grand Tournament? I am to compete just to be chosen by a woman?”
“Yes, Honorable Uncle.”
From the disciples traveling with him, he learned the truth of what was being said—rumors that threatened to tarnish Wudang’s reputation. Hyun Geom sought out the woman at the center of it all: Zhuge Seol-ha.
“See to it that neither Wudang’s name nor the title of Hyun Geom is dragged into whatever schemes you have set in motion. Do this, and I shall not hold you accountable.”
Baek Yang-hwi… he was an annoyance. Hyun Geom could not say exactly why, which only made it worse. It would be best to sever ties entirely—if necessary, he would take firm action.
“Seol-ha, the gathering is still some time away. Why have you come down from the mountains so soon?”
He had not refused out of loyalty to his master’s wishes, but he felt no particular affection for Zhuge Seol-ha. His life was dedicated entirely to the sword; there was no room in it for romance.
Yet…
They say opportunity knocks three times in a lifetime. Every life has its turning points.
*This is the second one.*
In that moment, Hyun Geom knew his life had reached a great crossroads. The reason was simple, yet undeniable: he felt the same surge of awe he had experienced the day he first met the Taiji Sword Elder. Everything he had lived for, everything he had been—began to shift.
“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Young Hero Hyun Geom.”
—
The Dragon-Phoenix Gathering was unfolding across Hubei, and excitement was building. The talk was everywhere:
— “This year’s champion will be from Shaolin or Wudang—you can count on it!”
— “The winner may not be decided yet, but the two finalists are already clear!”
— “Shaolin’s greatest prodigy against Wudang’s finest! One of them will claim the title of Supreme Dragon!”
Shaolin and Wudang were revered names, but the world was vast, and there were many gifted young fighters. That only these two were being discussed meant Wudang was encouraging the rumors—and Baek Yang-hwi understood why.
He realized why Hyun Geom’s name had never appeared in the memories of his past life. In that other timeline, Adu had died years before, and Shaolin, robbed of its brightest star, had raged in grief. Events were unfolding differently now. If Wudang’s plans were to be stopped, he would need to change how things went.
Then the perfect opportunity presented itself.
— “Zhuge Seol-ha, the most beautiful woman under heaven, is to choose her betrothed! Talented disciples are flocking from every corner of the land!”
— “They are calling it the Yeonwol Grand Tournament! What a sight this will be!”
Attention was split. The clash between Adu and Hyun Geom—the two rising stars—would decide who was the greatest of their generation. But was not the most respected man also the one chosen by the most extraordinary woman?
Baek Yang-hwi smiled. He had muddied the waters perfectly, and Hyun Geom had fallen right into the trap. He saw the look in Hyun Geom’s eyes when he met Zhuge Seol-ha—this man who knew nothing but the sword was already captivated.
“A grand tournament is a contest—a struggle to see who stands above all others. The Yeonwol Grand Tournament shall be held under the Zhuge Clan’s authority, to keep order in Wuhan.”
By building up the rivalry between Adu and Hyun Geom, interest had grown to a fever pitch. Wudang hoped to expand its influence in Hubei, which was Zhuge territory. If Hyun Geom were placed under Zhuge Clan orders to oversee security… Wudang’s plans would not be ruined entirely, but they would be thrown off balance.
Hyun Geom understood this well. His expression shifted the moment the proposal was made.
“What say you, Hero Hyun Geom?” Baek Yang-hwi pressed inwardly.
Whatever Hyun Geom chose, he would lose ground. If he refused, he would be seen as a coward running from a challenge. If he accepted, Wudang’s finest would serve the Zhuge Clan.
“If I withdraw now, I may bring shame upon Wudang.”
He kept glancing toward Zhuge Seol-ha as he spoke, and his words rang hollow. Baek Yang-hwi continued, barely containing his amusement.
“Then let those who compete in the tournament form a provisional order—the Yeonwol Corps.”
The idea of a unified group caught everyone’s attention. Namgung Cheon-yeong and Hyun Geom both looked sharply alert. Whoever led the Yeonwol Corps would command immense influence.
“And who shall be its leader?” Namgung Cheon-yeong demanded. “We will not stand by if someone claims the position through favoritism.”
“Of course not,” Baek Yang-hwi replied calmly. “With so many talented disciples joining, the decision cannot be made by only a few of us.”
He opened the doors to the courtyard below, where disciples from across the region had gathered. As arranged, Chudal had already shared the news.
“Hear this! We shall choose our leader openly! Both Young Lord Namgung and Hero Hyun Geom have agreed!”
A cheer rose from the crowd. They had been led to imagine even the most respected figures serving under a new leader—and they were eager.
“You all want to know how the choice will be made!” Baek Yang-hwi called out.
“Tell us!”
“Is it to be a duel?”
“A fight would be simple enough,” someone shouted, “but surely it will not be so straightforward?”
“A duel would leave us with the strongest swordsman—not necessarily the best leader. And we need more than just skill with a blade!”
“Well said!”
“Then who shall decide?”
Baek Yang-hwi turned toward Zhuge Seol-ha. “Who better to choose than the lady at the center of this gathering?”
Zhuge Seol-ha stepped forward to the window. Music drifted from every corner of the city. The most admired woman in the land spoke clearly.
“I wish to stand beside someone who excels not only in martial prowess, but in wisdom and virtue as well.”
With those words, every heart in the room burned with new resolve.
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