Reincarnated as a Wandering Swordsman in a World of Magic and Murim

Ren's blade met the spectral warrior's strike, the clash ringing out like a whisper against the howling wind. The ghostly figures moved with precision, their forms flickering between reality and the spirit realm. These were no ordinary echoes of the past—these were warriors whose souls still clung to their duty, refusing to fade.

The seekers around Ren fought with practiced efficiency, their movements blending martial skill with spiritual energy. Yet, for every spirit that fell, another would rise from the ruins, drawn by the disturbance.

Ren exhaled, centering himself. This was not just a battle of swords—this was a battle of will. He recalled the lessons from the Keeper's Trial, the knowledge passed down from the ancients. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he let his Arcane Qi flow, intertwining with the flickering essence of the spirits.

The leader of the seekers noticed. "He's trying to attune himself… Interesting."

Ren opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with ethereal energy. He stepped forward, lowering his sword slightly—not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. The leading spectral warrior paused, its blade hovering inches from Ren's throat.

"I am not here to desecrate your legacy," Ren spoke firmly. "I seek the knowledge you once protected."

The spirit studied him, its empty gaze filled with an ancient sorrow. Then, without a word, it stepped back. The other spirits followed, lowering their weapons. The battlefield grew silent.

The leader of the seekers smirked. "It seems you've passed their test. The ruins will reveal their secrets to you."

Ren exhaled slowly. This was only the beginning.