A Blade Without Purpose

A storm engulfed the land of Taizen. The beautiful blue moon shone brightly in the starry night sky, only to be swallowed by rolling clouds. Wild winds howled, and throughout the land of Taizen, a quiet chaos spread. In a small corner of this vast continent, a village too fell under the storm’s influence. Usually peaceful, it now trembled beneath nature’s fury. However, just beyond the village, in a dense forest stretching for miles, a shadow moved with incredible speed.

The figure carried a small basket, his movements swift and precise. Biting his lips, he murmured an incantation—Blood Scarification. A sudden burst of energy surged through him, and his speed doubled. Within moments, he vanished as though he had never been there. Seconds later, ten other figures appeared in pursuit. As moonlight illuminated them, a badge with the letters 'HD' became visible on their chests. Without hesitation, they moved in a specific direction, their intent clear.

Above the village of Qingming, another shadow appeared, scanning the area in mere seconds. Then, it flickered and materialized in front of an orphanage. The figure placed the basket gently before the entrance and waved a hand, sealing away the dense aura surrounding the child inside. The infant, with large, beautiful eyes, gazed at the shadow, smiling playfully as if trying to reach out. But the moment was cruel. The shadow knelt, touching the child’s forehead with an emotion-laden voice, whispering, "Young Master, this is the only way for you to survive. Farewell."

With that, the figure knocked on the door and vanished like a fleeting dream. A moment later, a middle-aged woman opened the door, her gaze falling upon the basket. The sight of the child's innocent face melted her heart. She looked around, sensing no lingering energy, no trace of whoever had left him there. Hesitantly, she picked up the basket and carried the child into the warm embrace of the orphanage.

***

Twelve Years Later

A crisp morning. A sudden explosion rang out. A boy flew backward, crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. A sharp, disdainful voice followed. "How utterly useless. You can't even block a low-rank spell. Why are you even here?"

A crowd gathered around the source of the voice—a striking young woman standing with an air of arrogance. "Leader Luzi is the best!" someone in the crowd cheered, followed by others echoing praises. Yet no one spared a glance at the boy who had been ruthlessly thrown aside.

From the dust, the boy slowly rose to his feet. Without a word, he picked up his sword and walked away. He had long grown numb to such treatment. It no longer mattered. It was too common.

"How dare you ignore our leader!" a voice barked. "Get on your knees and show respect! You're lucky she even bothers to waste her time on you!"

The boy didn’t stop. He simply kept walking.

Then another voice pierced through the hall, laced with mockery. "Leave him. What good is he? All he does is leech off Elder Shuna."

This time, the boy paused, his grip tightening around his sword. But after a brief moment, he let it go and stepped out of the hall, out of the building, heading toward the mountains—the only place where he could train in peace.

"Why do you keep going after him, Luzi?" a voice challenged from within the hall. "Every day, you challenge him. What are you trying to prove?"

Luzi scoffed, turning her gaze to the speaker. "Elder Shuna, I just want to prove that he doesn’t deserve to be under your division. You rejected me for him. I will keep challenging him until you realize how wrong you were."

With those words, she left, the crowd following behind her like loyal shadows.

Luzi was considered one of the most brilliant cultivators among Qingming’s new generation. She had awakened her gene energy at the age of eight, possessing a powerful wind-element gene. In this world, cultivators typically awakened their gene energy before the age of ten—the earlier, the more talented they were deemed. In rare cases, some could manipulate energy without a gene element, a skill known as Energy Manipulation, but such individuals were few.

On the other hand, Sheo—the boy found by Elder Shuna twelve years ago—was not so fortunate. He was fourteen, a year younger than Luzi, yet he had never shown any signs of awakening his energy. Worse, he couldn’t even circulate his normal energy, let alone release it.

Both Sheo and Luzi were raised in the Blue Qing Orphanage, overseen by four elders. However, only three actively took in students and trained them for the chance to enter the capital’s prestigious Saint Academy—one of the finest institutions in Taizen. Elder Shuna, however, had not taken a disciple in over twenty-five years. That stormy night, she broke her own rule and chose Sheo.

She never saw him as a burden. She trained him, gave him resources, and supported him despite his lack of progress. And yet, she never wavered. But Luzi hated that. She had always wanted to be Shuna’s disciple. Shuna was once a mighty warrior, a protector of the village in her prime. Though retired, she remained a master craftsman, her weapons sought after by the greatest warriors. Being rejected in favor of Sheo burned Luzi’s pride, and she sought to humiliate him at every opportunity. Today was no different.

Sheo reached his usual training spot in the mountains and began practicing his sword techniques. Despite everything, he remained determined. Whenever he held his sword, he could feel something within him—a force yearning to break free. Yet, something was always missing. No matter how much he tried, he failed.

Sighing, he sat on a rock, gazing at the sky with empty eyes.

*I really am useless. She was right. What good am I?*

A calm, soothing voice broke through his thoughts. "Stop doing that."

Sheo tensed, instantly alert. Scanning his surroundings, his eyes landed on a man perched on a tree branch. He looked middle-aged, with a mysterious smile on his face.

With a respectful tone, Sheo spoke. "Elder, I don’t understand what you mean."

The man chuckled. "Stop pretending. Acting like nothing affects you. You’re hiding your emotions, pretending you don’t care, aren’t you? That’s why your sword isn’t strong enough. You can’t connect with it."

Sheo’s brows furrowed. "What?"

"Do you think crying makes you weak?" the man asked. "It doesn’t. You can’t fight while burying your emotions. Let them out."

As if those words shattered an unseen barrier, the dam holding back years of suppressed pain broke. Tears rolled down Sheo’s face as he lowered his head. "What can I do? I’m weak. I don’t deserve the resources given to me. I’ve done nothing but disappoint Elder Shuna. I... I really am useless."

The man’s gaze sharpened. "Weak? Do you think weakness comes from a lack of energy? From a frail body? From lacking talent?"

Sheo hesitated. "I... I don’t know."

"None of those things make you weak. *You* are the one making yourself weak. Your sword has no purpose. A true swordsman wields his blade with intent. Even if he loses his way, his purpose does not shatter. Without purpose, even the sharpest blade cannot cut through paper. But with determination, even the dullest sword can cleave through a mountain."

Sheo clenched his fists. "But I don’t even have energy to use. No matter how good my technique becomes, I can never be a real cultivator."

The man’s eyes gleamed. "Is that so? Then prove it. If you think you’re weak—*die.*"

In an instant, he pointed a finger. A terrifying gust of energy surged toward Sheo with immense power. Fear gripped him. He was going to die.

Instinct took over. His body moved on its own. His sword swung—not in a stance, not with technique—just a pure, instinctual motion.

The attack, which should have obliterated him, was split apart. The air settled. Sheo stared in disbelief.

"Did... did I do that?"

The man grinned. "You sure did, kid. Now tell me—what was in your heart when you swung your sword? Fear of failure? Fear of disappointing others? No. It was simply the instinct to survive. And that, kid, is proof that you are not useless."

Sheo bowed his head respectfully and thanked the man. On the surface, the man appeared calm as the dead sea, but inside, he was surprised. Simply putting a thought into a swing shouldn't have been enough to cut through his attack. He had intended to stop it himself, but for that split second, a very pure energy surged through Sheo’s sword, completely erasing the attack.

After receiving some guidance on his swordsmanship, Sheo was left in awe, unable to put his admiration into words. Then, the man asked, "Why can't you bring your energy out? Try circulating it within your body."

Sheo did as instructed but, as always, failed. However, the disappointment he expected to see on the man’s face never appeared. Instead, the man looked confused. "Were you attacked when you were young?"

Sheo shook his head. "No, I don't recall anything like that."

The man furrowed his brows. "Your energy paths are completely blocked. There's no way you can circulate energy like this."

Sheo was shocked and saddened, but before he could dwell on it, the man smiled and tossed a small bottle toward him. "Don't make that face. Take this pill."

Catching the bottle, Sheo opened it and was immediately overwhelmed by the purity of the energy radiating from within. He didn’t recognize the pill but knew it had to be of high grade. Shaking his head, he said, "I can't accept this."

The man chuckled. "It's nothing. Take it. I'm quite curious to see what element you possess."

After a moment of hesitation, Sheo swallowed the pill and sat down to meditate. As soon as he closed his eyes, the smile on the man's face vanished, replaced by a serious expression. He sealed the space around them and placed his hand on the back of Sheo’s head, assisting him in circulating his energy. As the pill dissolved, its pure energy started healing Sheo’s damaged energy paths. With some effort, his pathways were restored to pristine condition. However, the real problem was just beginning. Years of suppressed energy from his relentless training surged through his body like an unstoppable tide.

The man’s eyes widened. "This amount of energy... This kid is a genius."

Yet, there was nothing he could do to contain it now. He had no choice but to act. Using telepathy, his voice echoed in Sheo’s mind.

"Listen, kid. The energy in your body is too much for you to handle. Your current gene technique is far too weak to control it."

He sighed and continued in a grave tone, "I have a technique that can absorb all this energy and potentially save you, but it is my generational technique, meant only for my disciple. The choice is yours. If you accept me as your teacher, you have a chance to survive."

Weakly, Sheo responded, "It would be an honor, Elder. I accept."

In this world, techniques and treasures were only passed down to successors. One could have multiple teachers, but their teachings remained exclusive to their disciples. As Sheo spoke, two streams of light entered his mind, flooding it with knowledge. The man spoke once more.

"The first is a gene technique called 'Matrix,' and the second is a method to form a 'Sword Mind' to enhance your sword intent. The first will create a gene core, while the second will establish a sword intent that can grow in the future. Now, everything depends on you. This technique is powerful, but if you can't wield it properly, you'll lose your soul. If that happens, I'll kill you myself. The rest is in your hands."

Sheo understood there was no turning back. He focused and directed his energy as described in the Matrix technique. His cultivation advanced at an insane pace.

*Bloom Level 1… Level 2… Level 3…*

*Boom!*

*Closis Level 1… Level 2… Level 3…*

He surpassed the initial stages and entered the Half-Nemesis level. His energy surged even further, pushing him to the peak of Half-Nemesis before finally breaking through to Rising Nemesis.

Sheo exhaled deeply and shifted his focus inward. He began constructing the image of a sword within his mind. Unlike breaking through cultivation levels, forming a sword intent was an entirely different challenge. It required patience, precision, and control.

The training lasted for eight hours, and night had fallen. The man meditated under a tree, but suddenly, his eyes shot open. A powerful burst of energy erupted into the air, crackling with intensity. The atmosphere itself shifted, and slowly, the energy transformed into electrifying bolts. As if bowing before their new master, the bolts descended upon Sheo, merging into his body. With lightning coursing through his veins, he knelt before his new teacher.

The man clapped. "You’ve successfully passed this test."

He then stood up. "It's getting late. I have some business in a nearby country, so I won’t be here for a few months." He handed Sheo a token. "This is a communication token. Train hard with your sword and aim to reach the Low Acryl level. Make sure to solidify your foundation. I will contact you when the time comes."

Sheo nodded. "Yes, Teacher."

The man continued, "I have two options for you, Sheo. I can give you the best sword techniques, but if you rely on pre-existing techniques, you’ll never reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship. However, if you create your own sword art, you can grow it and attain the peak of the Sword Mind. The choice is yours."

Sheo thought for a moment before speaking with confidence. "I will create my own sword art."

The man smiled. "Very well. We will meet again in a few months."

As he turned to leave, Sheo called out, "Teacher, may I know your name?"

Realizing he hadn't introduced himself, the man’s fading silhouette echoed through the night. "My name is Sahawal."

Then, he vanished.

Sheo sighed, picked up his sword, and headed back to the orphanage. His entire life had changed within hours. Moving swiftly, he reached his room, hid his energy, and sat in meditation. It was already midnight. He reflected on everything that had transpired. It felt like a dream, but he knew it was real. Finally, he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

---

The next morning, Elder Shuna and Elder Zuri sat in the lobby, sipping tea as they watched the students train.

Zuri spoke. "This year's selection will be interesting. Luzi is undoubtedly the most promising candidate, but I’ve heard the test will be more difficult this year."

Shuna nodded. "Luzi is talented, but she lacks humility and has too much confidence."

At that moment, a boy entered the lobby. Sheo greeted the elders and said, "Elder Shuna, I will be taking my leave."

With that, he walked toward the gate. However, Luzi intercepted him, her voice commanding. "Get in your place. Today, we fight with weapons."

Sheo ignored her and kept walking. Insults followed from those around her, but he paid them no mind.

Luzi’s expression twisted in anger. "So now you dare ignore me?!"

She chanted, "Wind, converge where I sight!"

A strong gust surged toward Sheo. Lost in thought, he barely registered the attack—until he sensed the danger. Elder Shuna was about to intervene, but Sheo sighed, drew his sword, and with a single, swift strike, the wind attack split in half. Before Luzi could even react, she felt a cold sensation on her neck. Sheo’s sword hovered just before her skin.

With a calm motion, he withdrew his blade and, without a word, walked away. Everyone was left in shock.

Luzi, trembling, muttered, "Did he really slice it? Did I… lose?"

Then, overwhelming anger took hold. "He cheated! There’s no way!"

Meanwhile, the elders exchanged glances. They had seen the exchange clearly—Sheo hadn’t used any energy. His sword had simply cut through the attack.

But how? That was the question on everyone’s mind.