Biyeon’s face and hands turned deathly pale.

“Urk… this is…”

Her face from terror, her hands gripped tightly by the Heavenly Demon.

“…”

Not long after Biyeon groaned in pain, the Heavenly Demon slowly released her hand. Biyeon collapsed to the ground with a thud. Her slender forearm bore the clear imprint of a hand.

“…Sorry, I got carried away…”

Leaving those awkward words of apology, the Heavenly Demon walked away. A flicker of bitterness crossed her final glance before departing.

To Biyeon, that emotion sank her heart far deeper than the fear from moments ago. Amid the inexplicable melancholy surging within her, the Heavenly Demon vanished abruptly. Biyeon remained seated in the yard, staring blankly at the spot where she had left. Only the moonlight filtering through the clouds gazed down upon her.

Biyeon staggered to her feet and returned to the shed. Steam still rose from the bowl of rice. Having just witnessed the coldness in the Heavenly Demon’s eyes, the warmth of the meal felt all the more precious.

Biyeon picked up her spoon. She scooped a bite and shoved it into her mouth. Tears clogged at the rice grains clinging to her lips.

Instinctively, she knew. The casual meal shared over a humble table of rice was now over.

That was Biyeon’s first calamity.

The first great disaster of her lifetime.

It unfolded just as expected.

From that day on, the Heavenly Demon never showed her face at the shed again. The evenings when she would peek in felt like a lie; she vanished completely. Biyeon was left alone, lifting her spoon in the empty space.

The Heavenly Demon’s visits ceased. The elders and the temple alike lost interest in Biyeon. What had concerned them was the Heavenly Demon’s favoritism toward her, not Biyeon herself.

As always.

Today too, Biyeon stared down at her rice bowl in the desolate shed.

“…”

The thought struck her anew. Humans are such fickle creatures. The rice that had once tasted so sweet now looked like grains of sand. All depending on her mood…

Eating alone.

…could taste this bitter. It had been such a hassle when she came, but now that she ate by herself, her throat rebelled against the food.

“Damn it.”

Biyeon overturned the table. She had finally realized it.

That sweet flavor wasn’t from her tongue savoring the grains…

It was the taste of kindness.

More precisely, the warmth of another person.

In the end, sharing it with someone.

That intense sense of fulfillment. Biyeon had simply never experienced such a feeling in her life.

So.

She had mistaken it for the ‘taste of rice.’

But… Biyeon knew now.

The Heavenly Demon would not return to this shed.

“My… moment of folly was the root of it all.”

She had boasted to someone desperate for recognition.

It must have touched something within the Heavenly Demon.

Inferiority.

A word worlds away from Biyeon. She had felt the concept through her skin. Because the younger elders had eyed her with that gaze. She thought it was something exclusive to those dull fools.

Yet she read that very emotion in the Heavenly Demon, who had seemed the most distant from it.

Biyeon herself was aware. The truth that she was extraordinary. Otherwise, how could the movements of the distant followers appear so slow to her?

She simply never flaunted it. She didn’t particularly seek recognition. If there was one person she wanted to show it to… it was just that one.

…And she paid the price for that recklessness with the Heavenly Demon’s indifference. It left her hollow. In truth, she was just another oblivious fool, one Biyeon had always ignored.

“Haa…”

Still, she had no intention of abandoning what she had been doing.

Better this way, even. Now she didn’t have to dodge the elders’ stares. Amid everyone’s indifference, Biyeon set her goal.

This Formless Sword.

She would hone it. Hone it relentlessly.

With that resolve, Biyeon trained. She endured the pain that carved into her very bones and flesh with stoic calm. She had gauged the followers’ drills by eye for the sword path’s doctrines, supplementing what needed reinforcement.

Biyeon devoted everything outside of sleep to training. She had always lacked any support. If anything, her current situation was an undeserved luxury. The rice jar refilled periodically, likely by one of the followers sneaking in like a secret guest.

With her basic hunger sated, Biyeon buried herself in the wilds, sharpening her Formless Sword to its limits.

Shwick.

Unlike the hazy initial form that flickered in her hand, by the second year, she manifested true nothingness.

Without color.

Without scent.

Without form.

The Formless Sword in its truest sense.

Swish.

Its lightness surpassed even a feather.

Swish.

Its odor was fainter than clear air.

Swish.

Its shape merged perfectly with space.

Enlightenment cannot be attained through teachings alone. Even mastering the greatest manuals and formulas meant nothing if the vessel was too small.

Conversely, if that vessel was vast like the sea? It absorbed everything voraciously like blotting paper. Transcending mere acquisition, it forged its own grammar.

Biyeon did not stop.

She was no mere genius that appeared once per era.

She possessed a talent unprecedented and unequaled in the history of the Jianghu.

At an age slightly shy of twenty, she attained the mysteries of the sword.

Sword Principle.

The pinnacle all swordsmen yearned for.

Yet to Biyeon, even this was merely a step. ‘Intuition’ told her there was more beyond.

“…Hm.”

The term genius took on new meaning in that instant.

Genius is said to be the apex of one field.

An achievement worthy of awe, no doubt.

The end.

The terminus.

But for Biyeon, that end was not final. Through years of training, she realized…

The path of the sword is infinite.

Declaring Formless Sword and mind sword as the answers and bestowing the grandiose title of ‘Sword Principle’ was a mistake. Left alone, time became her abundant luxury. She had lived her youth too fiercely to waste it.

Each day was a battle. That nature etched into her very being drove her forward like someone with a terminal diagnosis.

Without peers, she refused to stagnate. She conjured imaginary foes to drive herself mercilessly.

Naturally, as a human, she hit biological limits. Her head burned hot, and she often vomited black blood.

Shaaaah!

Then she went to the waterfall. The cascading cold water felt like it cleansed every corner of her brain. After a baptism that shaved hair and washed marrow, she returned to her solitary training.

“…Haa, haa.”

Her teeth chattered. Why she bothered with this shit, why she set such an idiotic goal—she no longer knew. She just kept going by inertia. Even without a target, she pressed on.

Yet strangely, her direction never strayed. Perhaps heaven-sent talent was a compass always pointing true.

Tap, tap.

It was one day. While circulating energy under the waterfall, Biyeon suddenly opened her eyes narrowly.

The impact on her head was negligible. She looked up. The waterfall had dried to mere droplets.

“This is…”

The dripping droplets evaporated on contact with her hand. Only then did she sense the scorching heat pervading the area.

She turned. Through the dense Gwangrim foliage, red energy danced. Biyeon stepped away from the rock and headed there.

Step, step.

The closer she got, the more her soles blistered. Ignoring it, she pushed through the underbrush.

Soon she reached the cliff that always overlooked the Divine Cult. Her eyes widened like saucers.

Roooar…!

The Heavenly Demon Hall was half devoured by flames. Demonic adepts drew their blades and advanced somewhere. Even the elders, who occasionally shot her glares, unleashed their demonic arts without restraint.

At the center…

“…You…?”

A woman, the Heavenly Demon. She withstood the onslaught of all the adepts single-handedly. What was happening? A rebellion?

No time for thought. Biyeon stomped. The spot she pushed off cratered, the cliff collapsing like a melting iceberg.

One leap.

That alone landed her at the heart of the chaos. Shielding the Heavenly Demon behind her, she swept her gaze over them all.

“Wh-what the hell?!”

The adepts, about to strike in unison, flushed with panic. As they reeled from the sudden intruder, one elder who knew of Biyeon stepped forward.

“Step aside.”

His voice was drier than the blazing straw. Biyeon tilted her head.

“Why should I? I’m not even from the Divine Cult.”

“Y-you rude bitch—!”

Even in the crisis, underlings minded rank. The elder silenced them with a glance and glared at Biyeon.

“Then plainly: this is Divine Cult business. No place for an outsider like you.”

“Being an outsider means it’s my business whether I interfere or not.”

“…Haa. Given the situation, I tried words first. Attempting civility for once makes me feel like a monk, not a demonic adept.”

The elder slowly drew his sword.

“Get lost.”

The blade flashed. Sword light flew. To Biyeon’s eyes, the entire sequence…

Appeared utterly still and slow. From a Demonic Cult elder, no less.

Chin.

Biyeon extended her arm.

“…!”

The sword light shattered into particles upon meeting her palm. As the elder blinked, Biyeon flicked her hand lightly.

But the aftermath was anything but light. The elder’s head flew skyward, blood spraying from his orifices.

“F-Formless Sword…?”

“A Formless Sword of that form exists?”

Biyeon gave them no time to gape. With repeated hand motions, she claimed their lives. Blood and screams spread like plague.

Yet.

The situation shifted subtly. The adepts, frantic to flee at first, began prostrating before Biyeon.

To demonic adepts ruled by power, her Formless Sword seemed divine intervention.

Even with the current Heavenly Demon standing right behind her, they hailed her as a new Cult Leader…

…Huh?

Only then did Biyeon look back. She properly saw the face of the woman who had pulled her from hell.

It had been so long.

She should be teary with joy at the reunion.

“…I took in a child… I didn’t take her in.”

The woman muttered with downcast eyes. Her disheveled hair and loosely draped robe marked her as deranged.

None of that mattered. Biyeon’s jaw trembled because…

The woman’s pupils and sclera had inverted into reverse eyes.

“qi deviation.”

She realized it at once.

The one who planted that seed was none other than Biyeon herself.

Her second calamity stemmed from her, just like the first.

Then.

The woman shot toward Biyeon like a bowstring released.