> "The sword remembers everything—even the names we tried to forget."
— Ryu Seok-jin
---
The wind howled across the narrow ridge as Ryu Seok-jin rode along the mountain path, his horse trudging carefully between jagged stone and steep drops. The sun hung low behind clouds, casting long shadows that crawled across the ground like reaching hands.
His body was still recovering from the brutal four-day battle and his ascension. His energy core felt fuller now—refined by the Sword Saint's Heart—but his heart, strangely, had grown heavier since.
> "Stronger than ever," he whispered. "But why does the world feel colder?"
And then—
> "SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE—HELP!!"
A scream.
A girl's voice—shattered by terror.
Ryu's horse halted with a sharp snort. He looked down from the edge of the cliffside path.
Below, on a rocky ledge, three men surrounded a girl.
Her robes were torn. She clutched her arms across her chest, trembling. Her back was to a wall of stone. There was no escape.
> "Don't worry, sweet thing."
"We'll take good care of you."
"You're all alone out here anyway…"
Blade Disciples. Not elites, but trained enough to kill.
Ryu's eyes narrowed.
He should have walked away. The Ryu Seok-jin of this life had no reason to interfere.
But then—he saw her face.
And his heart stopped.
His body moved before his mind could catch up.
He leapt from the cliff without a word.
In a silver blur—
Three heads flew into the air.
Three bodies collapsed into blood-soaked stone.
The girl stared, frozen.
Then she looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.
And time fractured.
---
Flashback — The Girl With Autumn Eyes
There was a time… a long time ago… when Ryu had been nothing more than a nameless orphan. Dirty. Skinny. Cold.
He remembered the winter morning he first saw her.
He was stealing stale bread from a street cart in the slums of Eastern Daewang.
She saw him.
A rich girl, barely twelve. Wrapped in furs. Eyes too kind for a world this cruel.
He ran. He always ran.
But she followed him.
All the way into the forest. Past the market. Into the abandoned shack where he slept under torn blankets and moldy straw.
She stood at the door and watched him eat like an animal.
She didn't call for guards.
She didn't scold him.
She simply returned the next day—with rice. Then soup. Then medicine.
Day after day.
> "You look like a kicked puppy," she once said. "So I brought you food."
He didn't speak much, but her presence made the silence warm instead of lonely.
One week later, she begged her father:
> "Make him my bodyguard. Please? Or I'll never speak to you again!"
And so, he became her shadow.
He watched her grow from a stubborn girl into a radiant young woman.
He trained because she told him to. He ate because she made him. He smiled because she laughed.
And somehow, without realizing it, he had begun to live for her.
Her name was Seo Hana.
And she became his entire world.
---
They were seventeen when the Plague came.
A cruel illness that turned breath to fire, blood to rot, and lungs to dust.
It swept through the Murim like a scythe.
Seo Hana caught it.
Her father burned through their family fortune trying to save her. Talisman doctors. Pill forgers. Even dark alchemists. But nothing worked.
As a last resort, Ryu turned to the streets again—this time not to survive, but to save her.
He fought in blood pits. Stole from nobles. Took blades to the ribs and whips to the back. Anything for coin.
> "Just hold on, Hana," he whispered every night. "I'm coming back for you."
Eventually, he found it—a legendary pill crafted from phoenix marrow. Said to burn the sickness out of even the dead.
He ran through the night, barefoot, heart pounding.
He imagined her smile. The way she called his name. The way her hand fit in his.
The door to her room was slightly ajar.
He pushed it open—
And dropped the pill.
She was already gone.
The blankets had fallen from her bed. Her skin had turned gray. Her lips were still parted, as if she'd been calling out for him.
He fell to his knees and screamed.
But no one heard him.
He held her hand until morning.
And when they came to take her body, he didn't resist.
He just whispered,
> "I was too late."
---
Present — Beneath the Cliff
"…Sir?"
Ryu blinked.
The girl before him was trembling—not in fear, but in concern.
> "You… you're crying."
His fingers reached up.
Wet.
Tears. He hadn't realized.
> "Why… am I feeling this again?" he murmured. "Why now?"
Was it reincarnation?
Was it guilt?
Or was it simply the memory of a love he never buried?
He turned his back to her, voice barely above a whisper.
> "You're safe now. Go home."
"Wait—what's your—?"
But he was already gone.
In a blur of motion, he vanished into the trees above, leaves swirling behind him like dying petals. His horse waited at the trail. He mounted without a word and continued his journey down the mountain.
The wind returned.
But this time, it carried whispers of a name he once swore he'd never forget.
Hana.
And in his silence, the sword remembered.