Chapter 2

I opened my eyes.

The boy in the mirror was still staring back at me.

“…So that’s what happened.”

Dan Wi-myeong looked into the boy’s memories and understood the situation a bit.

The boy had awakened the power of “sword sense connection” and got too excited. He overused his ability—and died because of it.

“I still don’t know why I’m inside this kid’s body…”

Maybe it was because of the Heavenly Thunder Sword. But even that wasn’t certain.

“Anyway, I’m alive again? After 300 years? As a descendant of old Namgung Cheon-gang?”

It was ridiculous.

So things like this really do happen.

Dan Wi-myeong realized he had come back to life, but he didn’t feel happy.

Actually, he felt pissed off.

“Damn it! I’ve been thrown into something again! What the hell do they want from me?!”

It felt strange to see the pretty boy in the mirror shouting curse words.

But Dan Wi-myeong didn’t care. He held his head and kept cursing.

“What kind of messed-up joke is this? You want me to repeat that meaningless life again?”

Why did he become the Sword Ghost?

Because he knew nothing but the sword.

He had no talents other than fighting with a sword.

All he knew was killing with a sword. That was his whole life.

‘Why was I born? Why do I live? Why do I fight with a sword?’

Those questions had followed him in his past life. And they came back again now.

Should he live another empty life, being used by fate like a sword?

“…No. I’ll never let that happen.”

The boy in the mirror had a determined look in his eyes.

Was it the work of the Primordial Lord or the Old Immortal? He didn’t know.

But if someone was trying to play with him again, he would never go along with it.

‘Luckily, this place is good. The Namgung Clan. Aren’t they the best in the world?’

Namgung of the Blue Sky.

The strongest family in the world.

The Namgung Clan had ruled the martial arts world for generations.

Now that he was one of their sons, at least he wouldn’t have to fight just to survive like in his past life.

“Namgung Hoyeon. So I’m Namgung Hoyeon now?”

Dan Wi-myeong looked at the boy’s face in the mirror and accepted that he was now Namgung Hoyeon.

“…Don’t feel too bad, kid. It was just a bad accident. You and I—we’re both unlucky.”

Thinking about the dead Namgung Hoyeon felt a little uncomfortable.

But Dan Wi-myeong decided to live as Namgung Hoyeon from now on.

“To do that, I need power first.”

If he learned one thing from living as the Sword Ghost, it was that the martial world is never kind to the weak.

‘But I shouldn’t show too much power either. The nail that sticks out gets hit first.’

Dan Wi-myeong—no, now Hoyeon—decided to follow an old martial arts saying: “Hide three parts of your power.”

A true martial artist always hides 30% of their ability.

In his past life, he didn’t do that—and became a target of both good and evil factions.

‘No, in my case, I need to only show three parts of my power. Why? Because…’

Hoyeon focused his energy.

Suddenly, the spot between his eyebrows started to burn.

That spot, called the Upper Dantian, was filling with spiritual power.

‘As I thought, my Upper Dantian is open.’

Hoyeon’s eyes lit up.

A person who could use this spiritual power was called a Spirit User.

But not just anyone could become one. Only those chosen by the heavens—Heaven’s Chosen.

It was a very rare talent. And within that, some special powers were even rarer.

Grab!

Hoyeon reached for the sword beside his bed.

There was a blue tassel on the hilt, and a jade butterfly charm on the sheath.

Shing!

He drew the sword.

A silver blade appeared, and he could feel the sword’s presence.

Wooooong!

“…You want to be oiled? Hey, you nearly died—or rather, your owner did—and you’re asking for oil?”

Wooooong!

“You feel stuffy from the dust? I feel even worse, you dumb sword!”

Woong! Wooooong!

“Oh? You’re talking back now? Want me to break you?”

Woo…

The sword made noises, answering Hoyeon’s words.

This was the rare power to feel and talk with the sword’s spirit—Sword Sense Connection.

It was the same rare ability used by Namgung Cheon-gang, the famous sword master of the past.

‘I can use Sword Sense Connection. Now…’

Hoyeon ignored the heat in his forehead and focused more.

His eyes stayed on the sword. Sweat dripped from his forehead.

Then, finally—

Vooooom!

The sword floated into the air, about 30 centimeters.

Anyone watching would call it “Object Control”—a rare skill only top masters could use.

But Hoyeon’s sword floated without any visible energy or aura.

Like a ghost had lifted it.

This was the same rare power that once made Dan Wi-myeong feared in the martial world:

Will-Power Telekinesis—moving things with pure will and thought.

“Ughhhh…!”

His head burned, and he felt like his skull was breaking.

But Hoyeon didn’t stop using the telekinesis.

‘My Upper Dantian is too small! I just awakened my ability, so of course I can’t handle much. But this isn’t enough!’

“One-Sword” was his personal unit: the power to control one sword for half an hour.

If he couldn’t even do that, he wouldn’t survive in this brutal martial world.

“Urrraaahh!”

His brain felt like it was boiling.

The sword in the air started to blur, like there were several of them.

His eyes felt hot, and everything turned red.

But Hoyeon opened his eyes wider, holding on through the pain.

‘Endure it! The more you use spiritual power, the stronger you get! This pain? It’s nothing compared to back then…!’

Just as Hoyeon was pushing through like the Sword Ghost he once was—

Tap tap tap!

He heard footsteps running toward him. He immediately stopped the telekinesis.

Thud.

Bang!

The sword dropped onto the bed just as the door burst open.

A pale, beautiful woman saw him and shouted.

“My baby!”

Baby?

He was 15—the age when you should have already taken down a hundred people with a sword. Baby?

‘Is this woman crazy…?’

Hoyeon frowned from the headache.

The beautiful woman, Paeng Sohwa, ran to him and hugged him tight.

Grab! Hug!

“Sniff… sob… my baby!”

“W-wait…”

Surprised by the sudden hug, Hoyeon tried to pull away.

But her sobs made him stop.

“Sniff… Thank you… thank you for being alive. I don’t want anything else. As long as you’re healthy…”

“…”

Hoyeon’s eyebrow twitched in her arms.

Thank you… for being alive?

Mom?

Baby?

She just wants him to be healthy?

‘…Damn.’

His chest felt heavy.

Maybe because this woman was hugging him too tightly.

And maybe because her hot tears were soaking into his clothes.

That was the only reason.

…Right?

“He’s perfectly normal.”

“That can’t be true! The child’s body is burning up like a fireball!”

“Hmm…”

The physician, Seo Jung-hak, scratched his cheek with a troubled expression.

That was because Peng Sohwa, clutching the youngest young master tightly in her arms as if afraid he might run away again, was glaring at him with fierce eyes.

“Even if you say that…”

“Mother, it’ll be fine. Hoyeon is saying he’s okay too.”

A sturdy, handsome young man stepped in to help the flustered Seo Jung-hak.

‘…I see that old man.’

Trapped in Peng Sohwa’s arms, Hoyeon closely examined the young man’s face.

Within that face, he could see traces of the old man with the aura of a sage—Namgung Cheon-gang.

Their names were even similar.

Namgung Cheong-gang.

He was the heir of the Namgung family and… Hoyeon’s older brother.

“Cheong-gang, you’re saying that because you didn’t see it. Hoyeon screamed and called out my name.”

‘I didn’t do that, though.’

Hoyeon slightly lifted his head to look at the beautiful woman holding him.

She looked, at most, thirty. And she was supposedly his mother.

‘Peng Sohwa. A daughter of the Peng family from Hebei?’

As Hoyeon pondered this, a new female voice chimed in.

“He called Mom’s name? But didn’t you say Hoyeon lost his memory? Then how would he know Mom’s name?”

She was a stunning beauty who looked just like Peng Sohwa, but with slightly upturned eyes that gave her a sharper impression.

‘Namgung Sang-ah. This body’s… older sister?’

“Of course he remembered Mom’s name. That’s why he called her.”

“That makes no sense! Then he should’ve called my name!”

“Hmph, since Hoyeon followed me around, wouldn’t he have called my name?”

“Please, you’re the one he probably knows the least! You’re always holed up in your training room—how would he know you?”

“What? Sang-ah, what kind of way is that to talk to your older brother?”

“Older brother, my foot…”

Watching the siblings begin to argue, Hoyeon furrowed his brow.

‘What the hell? Are these people really from the Namgung clan?’

As far as he remembered, Namgung kids always had arrogant expressions and rarely spoke with others.

And when they did, they usually spat out rude, grating words that got on everyone’s nerves.

That’s how Hoyeon remembered the Namgung clan…

“Hoyeon liked me the most!”

“What are you talking about? He always held my hand when we went to the market together!”

“Then let’s ask him!”

“Fine, go ahead!”

The bickering siblings turned to him at the same time.

‘Wh-what do you want me to do?’

As Hoyeon flinched in panic, Peng Sohwa held him even tighter and scolded her children.

“Cheong-gang. Sang-ah. Can’t you see your little brother is sick? What do you think you’re doing, making a ruckus like this?”

“Ahem…”

“…It’s your fault.”

After their mother’s scolding, Cheong-gang and Sang-ah quieted down, and Peng Sohwa now spoke to Hoyeon in a soft voice.

“It’s okay, dear. You don’t have to force yourself to remember. We love you just the same, no matter what.”

“…”

Hoyeon felt a tightness in his chest again at her words.

Even though she said that…

There was a clear look of hope in everyone’s eyes—including hers.

‘Is it guilt…? For taking over this child’s body?’

Hoyeon couldn’t quite define the feeling.

But one thing was certain:

He didn’t want to disappoint the people in front of him.

‘Tsk. Are these lingering emotions from this body? Sentimental fool…’

Even as he thought that, Hoyeon gripped his sword tightly.

Thump.

As he did, sword resonance activated, and the sword’s voice echoed in his mind.

“…I’m still not really sure.”

As he held the sword and spoke, a faint, trembling voice came out of him.

“Ah…”

“Really?”

“Hoo…”

As the three people’s expressions darkened, Hoyeon quickly added,

“But when I look at this sword… I remember you, Moth—Mother.”

Though awkward, Hoyeon called Peng Sohwa “Mother” as he spoke.

Her eyes widened with joy, and her face lit up.

“Th-that’s right! I gave you that sword as a gift when you turned ten!”

“And when I see this blue gourd, I think of my brother…”

Calling Namgung Cheong-gang “Brother” was a much harder task, but Hoyeon squeezed his eyes shut and forced it out.

Seeing Cheong-gang’s reaction, he was glad he did.

“Oh! Yes! I gave that to you when I returned from my first journey in the martial world!”

“Then… this butterfly-shaped jade ornament—did Sister give it to me?”

“Yes… That’s right. We bought it together at the market. Do you really… remember?”

Namgung Sang-ah’s face also lit up with joy.

Feeling the tightness in his chest begin to ease, Hoyeon nodded.

“It’s all coming back to me… a little.”

“Oh, what a blessing! It doesn’t seem to be complete amnesia after all!”

Upon hearing that, Seo Jung-hak’s face brightened.

“Th-then how can we help Hoyeon regain his memories?” Namgung Sang-ah asked.

Seo Jung-hak stroked his chin and replied,

“Hmm… If you take him to familiar places or engage in shared activities, that might help.”

As soon as he said that, the eyes of Peng Sohwa, Namgung Cheong-gang, and Namgung Sang-ah all turned toward Hoyeon—and he was suddenly gripped by a sense of dread.

‘…No way. Don’t tell me…?’