In a secluded forest a long way from the village, a shack that looked as if it would collapse at any moment stood precariously.
To the boy, that shack was his entire world.
There was his mother, who had once been a courtesan and was now sick, selling her body to prolong her life a day at a time.
And there was the boy, whose only reason for living was to protect her. It was a world that belonged to the two of them alone.
"Cough, cough."
As the sound of a dry cough pierced through the thin walls, a gloomy expression appeared on the boy's face.
His mother's illness was deepening by the day.
Even so, his mother's beauty did not wither, and the footsteps of men harboring filthy desires never ceased visiting that rotting shack.
Whenever that happened, the boy crouched outside the shack on the cold dirt floor like a beast.
The sound of breathing coming through the gap in the door and the presence of a strange man gnawed away at the boy's soul little by little.
The boy pinched his thigh and dug into the dry earth with his fingernails.
Drip, drip.
The flesh beneath his fingernails tore, and dirt and blood tangled together, but he did not feel any pain.
Only the killing intent contained in his eyes burned with a blue hue.
'I want to kill them.'
Pure white killing intent rose from the boy's eyes.
He wanted to kill everything inside there, and the world that had made his mother this way.
Creaaak.
At that moment, the door opened and a man came outside with a beaming expression.
The crouching boy glared at the man as if to kill him.
"This little bastard. Can't you look at me straight? Doing this bullshit every time?"
The man showed his large fist. However, the corners of the boy's eyes shot even higher into the sky.
"Sigh, forget it!"
The man, pulling up his trousers again, spat a wad of phlegm and spoke in a low voice.
"I am holding back because of your mother."
Then he hummed a tune and left the shack.
Blood dripped from the boy's fingernails, and his eyes turned pure white.
"Cough."
At that moment, the sound of a dry cough was heard once again.
In an instant, the killing intent that had filled the boy's eyes disappeared as if it were a lie.
"Mother!"
It was as if he had never worn a venomous expression.
The boy ran into the shack with the most innocent expression in the world.
Inside the open door, his mother was struggling to smile with a pale face.
The boy threw himself into her embrace.
This embrace, collapsing from illness and exhaustion, was the warmest and safest haven in the world.
'May this warmth last forever.'
'May Mother's coughing stop.'
The boy prayed to the gods every night.
He believed that if there were gods, they would listen.
Then one day.
The village, no, the entire city was in an uproar.
It was due to a rumor that a big shot whose name was known by everyone under the heavens, a legendary bladesman of the martial world, had arrived.
People whispered that name in voices mixed with awe and fear.
The villagers who had wielded swords in their prime flocked to the city to catch a glimpse of him.
Such rumors were reaching the boy's ears around that time.
"Hack."
Bright red blood blossomed and spread clearly across the pure white handkerchief.
She had finally coughed up blood.
The eyes of the woman, who was quietly looking down at it, hardened firmly as if she had made a decision.
"Let us go out to the city as well."
His mother was different from usual.
She took out her best clothes from a dusty chest and applied powder over her pale face.
When her sickly complexion was hidden, she looked exactly like a fairy.
At that sight, the boy proudly grabbed his mother's small hand.
"Here?"
The boy, who had gone to the city, opened his eyes wide.
The place his mother had led him to was Drunken Immortals Pavilion, the most expensive guest house in the city, a place he had never set foot in his entire life.
As soon as they crossed the threshold, the floor was lined with ebony wood that shone dazzlingly bright.
The fragrant scent of expensive food subtly lingered at the tip of his nose.
Most of the guests inside were wealthy merchants and chivalrous warriors of the martial world.
They chewed their food quietly, afraid of making even a single sound, or sat completely still like stone statues with stiff expressions, holding their breath.
At that bizarre scene, the boy unconsciously gripped his mother's hem tightly.
Because in this sight he was seeing for the first time in his life, his mother standing next to him felt like the only reality.
Step, step.
Without hesitation, his mother headed toward the innermost part of the guest house, toward the stairs leading to the third floor.
However, the moment she tried to place her foot on the stairs to the third floor, a manager dressed in silk clothes appeared like a ghost and blocked their path.
Behind him, two sturdy servants stood firm like folding screens.
"You cannot enter."
The manager's voice was polite, but as cold as ice.
He looked the woman up and down, taking in her fine attire and the faint sickly complexion hidden behind it.
And examining the boy's dirt-stained appearance, he made no effort to hide his blatant contempt.
"The third floor has been rented entirely by an honored guest. I do not know what business you have, but this is a place you cannot set foot in, so please turn back."
The servants took a step forward, applying silent pressure.
As the gazes of everyone around them converged on them, the boy felt his face flush hot.
However, his mother did not shrink back in the slightest.
Rather, keeping a faint smile on her face, she carefully pulled something out from her bosom.
It was a small wooden box made of red sandalwood.
The dark red wooden box, bearing the traces of a long time, did not have a single flashy decoration.
But it possessed a natural elegance of its own.
"What is this?"
"Please deliver this wooden box to the warrior upstairs."
His mother's voice was thin but firm.
"If he sees the contents, he will know who it is."
The manager shook his head.
"I cannot carelessly deliver an item from someone whose origins and identity are unknown."
And he spoke with a fearful expression.
"If we happen to offend his mood, no one alive in this guest house will survive."
"If you deliver this, such a thing will not happen."
The manager opened the wooden box to check.
Inside lay a hairpin that looked quite precious.
"You are telling me to deliver this to that person?"
"That is correct."
The woman's eyes did not waver.
There was a strange power in that gaze that persuaded people.
For a moment, the manager alternately examined the woman's appearance and the wooden box she held.
Drunken Immortals Pavilion was a place frequented by high-ranking officials, renowned martial artists, and great merchants.
Accordingly, the manager's eye for people was exceptional.
From the woman in front of him, he could feel a natural elegance possessed only by those of noble birth and lofty character.
And an extraordinary aura flowed from the wooden box she was holding.
The manager's mind spun quickly.
No matter how much he thought about it, the woman's words did not seem to be a lie.
"Wait."
After a short deliberation, the manager gestured to a servant.
The servant received the wooden box from the woman and carefully disappeared up to the third floor.
The time filled with silence felt as long as eternity.
The boy swallowed dry saliva and looked up at his mother nervously.
A moment later, the servant who had been coming down the stairs ran over carefully and whispered into the manager's ear.
At that, the manager bowed deeply from the waist and stepped aside.
"Please go inside, Madam. I have committed a great discourtesy."
His mother spoke to the boy.
"From now on, absolutely do not raise your head."
The boy did not understand the reason, but he nodded.
The moment they walked up the creaking wooden stairs and finally entered the third floor, the boy held his breath.
An absolute silence, where all the noise from the floor below had disappeared like a lie, greeted them.
In a space vast enough to be called expansive, only a single table was placed by the window.
On top of it, delicacies from the mountains and seas were laid out so heavily that the legs of the table seemed to bend, but there were no signs of anything having been touched.
As if holding an ancestral rite, the food was growing cold.
A shadow, having made the entire third floor into his own space, sat alone with his back turned, tilting his liquor cup.
He did not spare a single glance even though the woman and the boy had entered.
As if only he and the liquor cup in his hand existed in the world, he slowly poured the liquor into his mouth.
The sound of him gulping down the liquor echoed heavily in the empty space.
Clack.
Setting down the liquor cup, the man finally turned his body.
The boy, who had been examining the surroundings out of the corner of his eye, swallowed his breath.
It was an appearance like a massive tiger disguised as a human.
He possessed blazing amber eyes, an overwhelming momentum emanating from his entire body, and a giant greatsword as tall as a person slung diagonally across his back.
His mere presence was freezing the surrounding air.
"Stay here for a moment."
His mother let go of the boy's hand and approached that beast-like man.
When she spoke a few words to him as if whispering, the middle-aged man's furrowed brow creased like a deep canyon.
Soon, his amber eyes turned toward the boy.
In that instant, it felt as though a sharp blade was piercing through his lungs and stabbing his heart.
At the same time, a thrill that felt as if all the blood in his body was freezing flowed out.
'Father.'
The boy could intuitively feel it.
A name he had never once called out.
That this man was his father.
That the father who had always been kept a secret... was that man.
The boy's heart pounded.
If his father was such a famous warrior, why hadn't his mother gone to find him all this time?
If so, couldn't the reason he came here be to see his mother?
However, that expectation was short-lived.
The middle-aged man shook his head toward his mother as coldly as ice.
There was not a shred of sympathy or pity in his eyes. There was only absolute coldness.
"...Let us go back now."
His mother's shoulders as she left the guest house looked incomparably smaller and sadder than when they had entered.
A corner of the boy's chest ached, but he accepted the sweet candy his mother handed him and forced a bright smile.
No, he had to pretend to smile.
Because if he smiled brightly like this, his mother's sorrow would be lessened even a little.
That night.
His mother, having returned to the shack, secretly called for a sturdy young man from the village with whom she had been close.
It was because she had felt something in the eyes of the lover she had missed for a long time, whom she had seen during the day.
That gaze was not a simple rejection.
It was a chilling killing intent, seeking to erase the stain that would blemish his reputation.
Tremble.
Recalling those tiger-like eyes, she trembled faintly.
Deep night arrived.
The woman rubbed her cheek against the cheek of the peacefully sleeping child.
Her son's body heat and this breath.
They felt as sorrowfully precious as if it were the last.
Creaaak.
The door opened, and the young man she had seen during the day entered carrying an A-frame carrier on his back.
Thud.
The young man lowered a large sack that looked like it contained an animal corpse from the A-frame carrier, and then bowed respectfully to the woman.
Then he carefully strapped the sleeping boy onto the A-frame carrier.
"Please take good care of him."
The woman's voice trembled thinly.
"Do not worry, My Lady."
The young man silently bowed his head.
"Please, take care of yourself."
Instead of answering, the woman held out a small box. Inside was the money she had saved up until now.
"I cannot accept this, My Lady."
"You will need money to raise a child, won't you?"
She said with a smile.
"I have prepared plenty of paper money, so I will have enough travel expenses for the journey to the underworld."
At the woman's words, the young man wore a gloomy expression, then wiped away his tears and accepted the money.
Bow.
The young man, who had prostrated himself on the floor, shouldered the A-frame carrier and sprinted toward the dark forest.
How much time had passed?
The boy opened his eyes to the cold night wind he felt in his sleep.
What unfolded before his eyes was the scenery of an unfamiliar forest, and his body was tightly bound to the A-frame carrier.
"Where is this place?"
The young man only walked without answering.
An ominous premonition seeped into the boy's chest.
"What about Mother? Where is Mother?"
Silence.
That silence was telling him everything.
In an instant, the boy realized.
The cold gaze of the bladesman he had seen in the city.
And the face of his mother, submerged in despair on the way back.
"Put me down!"
The boy struggled like a beast.
The ropes dug into his flesh, but he twisted his body madly.
Slip.
Luckily, the ropes came loose.
The boy ran toward the shack where his mother was without looking back.
How far had he run?
Just as his breath was catching in his throat from running so hard, he suddenly saw a pillar of black smoke in the distant sky.
At that moment, from afar, he saw a pair of ghost lights burning with a yellowish glow.
Had it been a hallucination?
That light lingered near the house before vanishing like a phantom.
The shack was burning.
And in front of that fire demon, his mother lay collapsed and covered in blood.
"Mother!"
A scream that sounded as if the world was collapsing burst forth.
His mother's two eyes, which had once been clear and beautiful as if containing the world, had become empty black holes.
And the two arms that used to hug the boy warmly were cleanly severed and missing from the forearms down.
"The person who left just now, it was him, wasn't it?"
The boy asked, shedding tears of blood.
"The man we met in the city, he was the one who did this to Mother, right?"
His mother wore a faint smile.
With all her remaining strength, she slowly spread her remaining arms from the shoulders down to the elbows.
It was a sorrowful affection for her son who had to live on alone, and a final expression of love.
"My... son."
Squeeze.
The woman, holding the boy tightly, whispered in a low voice.
"I love you... so much."
Drop.
With those words, his mother drew her last breath.
"Uuuugh."
In the cold embrace of his dead mother, the boy wailed in sorrow.
"Uwaaaaah!"
Why on earth? Why did his mother have to die?
He had prayed to the gods so much.
Even if they took his life, he had only wished for his mother to live healthily.
"Uuuugh!"
Tears of blood flowed from the boy's torn eyes, but those tears did not flow to the ground and were instead soaking his body.
Swoooosh.
Thick, driving rain began to pour from the sky.
The boy's desperate wailing began to fade, mixing into the sound of that rain.
"Huff, huff."
At that moment, the young man who had chased after him grabbed the boy's shoulder.
"Get a hold of yourself, Young Master."
"Mother... Mother..."
"My Lady was not a courtesan!"
The young man spoke the shocking truth.
"Although her family fell into ruin, she was originally a lady from a highly reputed household."
The young man bit his lip.
"When her family was ruined, My Lady emptied all her remaining jewelry to let the servants live, and she herself set off on the road empty-handed."
"..."
"I was the only one who served My Lady to the end. But then we met mountain bandits... When I was struck by a sword and collapsed, a warrior of the martial world appeared and saved My Lady."
The young man's voice was full of sorrow.
"However, poisoned by an aphrodisiac used by the mountain bandits, My Lady ended up forming a one-night bond with that warrior. And that was the beginning of all our misfortune."
They barely escaped the mountain bandits, but the two were caught by other wicked people.
In the end, because of that cruel man, the woman became a courtesan.
Then her body grew even weaker, and when they found out she had a child in her womb, they kicked her out of the brothel because she was no longer of any use.
As time passed, the woman, who could not properly control her body, was pushed to the brink of starving to death, and eventually, in order to save her son...
She used her beautiful face as her only asset and continued a harsh life.
"Mother."
Sizzle.
A pure white energy flowed out from the body of the boy, who could not suppress his anger.
"My poor mother..."
And right in the center of his forehead, a blood vessel emitting a faint golden light in the shape of the character for one (一) stood out rigidly.
Throb, throb. Craaack.
At the same time, pure white energy began to flow out from the boy's body.
Myriad Transformations Holy Physique.
The boy was born with a constitution that surpassed the Heavenly Martial Physique, which harbored the greatest martial arts since the chaos when the universe opened.
It was something said to be born barely once in ten thousand years.
Rumble!
The pure white energy surged up to the edge of the sky.
The boy, shedding tears of blood, asked.
"Who is that warrior."
"Warrior?"
"That man who came to the city today! He is my father!"
The young man shook his head.
"My Lady told me to never speak of him."
"I am asking you who he is!"
"I cannot tell you even if I die."
"And if I die?"
The boy ran to the kitchen and aimed a cold blue kitchen knife at his own throat.
"If you don't tell me, I will follow my mother too!"
What flowed from the boy's eyes was no longer tears.
It was a blood oath toward revenge.
Sizzle.
Just then, a sizzling and boiling sound could be heard from the shack.
"My Lady knew he would come, and in order to save you, Young Master, she intended to set a fire beforehand and commit suicide."
What the young man had brought on the A-frame carrier was the corpse of a sick child.
The woman had tried to set fire to the shack and pretend to die together with the child.
"Young Master. Please, just live an ordinary life."
"Answer me."
"I cannot break the vow I made to My Lady, Young Master."
"Fine."
Without hesitation, the boy thrust the kitchen knife into his throat.
"Young Master!"
The young man grabbed the boy's hand and shouted urgently.
"You might as well kill me instead!"
"Let, go!"
The furious boy pushed the young man away with one hand. At that, he was flung back three jang.
"Rather than living without being able to take revenge, it's better to die now!"
He moved to stab his neck with the knife again.
"Seven-Finger Demon Blade!"
The young man finally dropped his head and said it.
"She said his alias was the Seven-Finger Demon Blade."
Seven-Finger Demon Blade.
That name was engraved in the boy's mind like a brand.
"Seven-Finger Demon Blade."
The boy gritted his teeth.
To protect that great name.
Afraid that his prestigious reputation would be blemished.
He had tried to kill his mother and himself.
"I cannot forgive him."
A woman who had become a prostitute and an illegitimate child.
To a figure whose name resounded under the heavens, they must have been a shameful secret he wanted to erase.
That was why he had pierced the two eyes looking at him... and heartlessly cut off the hands trying to hold onto him.
The boy swallowed his blood-mixed saliva and looked up at the burning sky.
And he swore.
That he would definitely kill that man called the Seven-Finger Demon Blade with his own hands.
That he would kill him in the exact same way he had killed his mother.
Time flowed like a river.
A damp and bloody stone chamber in a deep underground cavern.
On the face of the boy, who was now a young man, a cold shadow was cast instead of his past innocence.
In front of him sat a young man whose tongue and nose had been cut off, making his form unrecognizable.
"You said he was also part of the Eighteen Souls of Light, right?"
The young man whispered as if talking to himself.
"The Seven-Finger Demon Blade, I mean him."
The sole survivor of the Absolute Demonic Blade Project.
Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.
Before anyone knew it, his name had become the terror of the martial world.
He had reportedly survived the Absolute Demonic Blade Project alone.
Washing his hands in blood and opening a path through slaughter, he handled the organization's most dangerous missions all by himself.
And finally.
He had become a member of the organization that kept the greatest secrets of the martial world.
"I heard that despite having an ordinary bone structure, you surpassed the Eighteen Souls of Light, which is composed only of the greatest prodigies of the current generation, and eventually became Number Nineteen, unprecedented in history."
Even at the young man's words, the crippled young man across from him just let out a meaningless laugh.
"Making my poor mother suffer and eke out a miserable life after abandoning her is reason enough to die."
A blade-like killing intent hung at the corners of the young man's eyes.
"I came here to kill him."
"Kieeeek."
"To become a member of the Eighteen Souls of Light like him... and join the Martial Alliance."
"Keuheut."
"Yeah. I heard you can't even speak, and your spirit itself has completely collapsed?"
The young man spoke softly while looking into the empty eyes of the crippled young man.
It was as if he were promising himself.
"That is why I am only telling you. My secret that I could not tell anyone."
Crunch.
The young man bit his lip so hard that blood seeped out.
In his eyes, his mother's final moments and the burning shack blazed vividly.
"I will, without fail, kill him."
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