A Swordsman’s Stream

Chapter 1

Sometimes memories from past lives would surface.

Even when they were unwanted.

“Child, would you not come with me?”

A robe embroidered with red flowers on its sleeves caught the child’s eye.

The robe fluttered gently yet was neat, and the middle-aged man’s smile was mischievous, meant to reassure the child.

In the silence of the night, the middle-aged man approached the child bound in chains and slowly reached out his hand.

At that moment, the child recoiled, supporting himself on the ground.

The rough stone floor his palm touched was cold.

A black market that opened only on full moons.

Among the items, the child was situated at the very bottom.

“Hahaha. Don’t worry. I’ve come to take you home.”

The middle-aged man waited patiently, holding out his hand with a benevolent smile.

As time passed, the child standing before him realized that the man posed no harm and looked up.

Still, the child couldn’t bring himself to look the man straight in the eyes.

Observing the boy, the middle-aged man assumed that the child avoided his gaze due to continuous beatings and turned his eyes to glare at the cold corpse of the merchant.

But what the man saw as faint in his vision, the boy’s eyes clearly focused on something beyond his outstretched hand, the benevolent smile, or the red plum blossom.

It was the sword hanging at the man’s waist.

The boy was looking at the sword.

And in that moment, he remembered staring at the sword from his memories.

Sojun awoke from his sleep.

“Ah….”

As the morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, a frown naturally formed on his face.

And it wasn’t just because of the morning light.

“It’s been a while since it appeared in my dreams.”

Jin Seo-Jun.

He did not know why, or who, or how, but at a young age, he had recalled memories of his past life.

He glimpsed the past of a prodigy, salvation by a passing master, the efforts of a promising and envied late bloomer, and the responsibility of being a colossal pillar sustaining a righteous faction.

And in his previous life, he was known as—

The Sword God (劍神).

That’s what they called him.

“What’s the point of being the Sword God in a past life?”

Seo-Jun chuckled and began to draw open the curtains and make his bed.

It was the autumn of his twenty-third year.

The beginning of a day just like any other.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Ding.

Until a text message arrived.