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Reincarnated Sword Ghost
Chapter 200 ·Unity of Man and Sword · Oct 12, 2026
Chapter List (202)
Unity of Man and Sword
A glaring white washed over his vision.
This wasn’t a metaphor. No matter where he looked, all around him shone blindingly white.
Even if he stepped forward or moved, it was still the same. Was it some illusion conjured here?
The boundaries of the space filled with pure white light were invisible.
’How is my body?’
He circulated internal energy through all the meridians of his body. He had to determine if he could freely move his true ki. Only then would he have a chance to escape from here.
But the flow of true ki felt off.
The internal energy that should flow unimpeded along the central channel connected to the dantian moved agonizingly slowly.
It was a bizarre sensation. As though his body was refusing to obey him.
Then it dawned on him.
His internal energy was gradually seeping out of his body. It must have been a strange effect generated by the enemies’ formation.
”......”
Where had things gone astray?
Was it when he’d decided to confront the enemy alone and made the first move?
When he’d brazenly hatched a plan to sneak into the core of their base and assassinate him?
Or maybe when he’d naively drew his sword, taking the enemy at his word that he’d waited here alone?
He couldn’t say.
Frankly, even looking back now, he didn’t feel he’d made a wrong decision.
Even if given a chance to turn back time, he would have done the same.
At that moment, he truly didn’t believe he could have made a better choice.
’Enough.’
There was no point in regret. More than anything, it was too soon for regret.
He wasn’t dead yet.
For now, he needed to unravel or destroy this formation and get out.
The problem was his true ki within his body refused to move freely.
When he willed it, the energy flowed through his meridians, but it kept dissipating somewhere.
It was extremely unpleasant—as if he’d become a broken vessel.
’... A broken vessel.’
It was a familiar phrase.
Wasn’t it called a broken vessel?
He’d heard it from some physician in a dream long ago.
A dream so faint now, he could barely remember its details.
Even the fact that his pursuit of the sword stemmed from that dream had slipped from his mind.
He’d even forgotten that he’d once had such a dream.
Perhaps it was because he was standing in such an utterly empty space.
He felt oddly hazy.
Suddenly, he recalled the first time he’d held a sword.
Back when hefting a wooden sword and swinging it a few times would leave him exhausted and collapsed.
Back then, being able to swing it repeatedly had been enough.
When had things changed so much?
Compared to that time, he was a completely different person now.
The word ”growth” felt almost frightening—as it signified forgetting the past while changing as a person.
’What am I thinking right now?’
This was no time to reminisce so leisurely.
He needed to get out quickly and pursue his enemy.
At the very least, he had to stop himself from becoming a sacrifice for that absurd formation.
Even were he to die.
’But how?’
A crushing sense of despair swept over him, yet suddenly, he recalled what he was best at.
It was a natural train of thought.
’What am I best at? What is it?’
An inexplicable emptiness took hold.
Then, he felt something weighty at his waist.
Looking down, he saw it was his sword. The black sword he’d taken with him when first leaving his house.
’... That’s right.’
The sword. What he did best was swing the sword.
Fsshhh!
No sooner had he thought so than he drew the sword. On instinct, he willed his intent and moved internal energy from his dantian.
Whoosh.
It moved sluggishly along his veins, traveling through shoulder, elbow, and wrist, eventually filling the sword blade.
It was terribly feeble. Small wonder.
Perhaps because of that, swinging the sword horizontally felt as heavy as if he were waving a soaked wad of cotton.
Whoooom!
He cleaved through empty air. There was nothing around him from the start—nothing but endless white light.
There was no target to strike, so how could anything be cut?
’I have to get out.’
With that singular instinct, he swung his sword again.
This time, a vertical cut slashing down from above.
He hadn’t even consciously chosen it, but his body followed on its own.
Whooosh!
Again, there was nothing. Nothing was cleaved.
His body didn’t even feel like his own, nor did the sword in his hand.
Naturally enough.
It was just a hunk of iron.
It was strange that it felt like an extension of his very body.
Then, just as instinctively, he thrust the sword forward.
Whoosh!
It made no difference.
The blade stabbed empty air without strength.
Even if it hadn’t been empty, he would’ve pierced nothing.
The sword, forcibly empowered with internal energy, felt impossibly heavy.
His arm throbbed.
Even though the use of internal energy should’ve allowed him to transcend his bodily limits.
”......”
Then, he felt a sense of incongruity.
Internal energy?
Did he need internal energy to swing his sword?
For a broken vessel like him—
”... Since when did I have internal energy?”
He muttered so, letting his arm drop limply.
In the haze, a realization broke through.
At some point, he had begun to rely on his vast internal energy to solve everything easily.
The enemy was right—he had grown overconfident in his natural talent.
He had forgotten the essence.
The most important thing in swordsmanship was the sword itself.
Clack.
He assumed his guard. The movement was instinctive.
He stopped forcibly circulating true ki through his blood vessels. Or rather, he didn’t even think about it.
That wasn’t what mattered.
Instead, he focused entirely on the sword he held.
Amusingly, the black sword, which had felt unbearably heavy, instantly grew lighter again.
Jeong-un found it entirely natural.
Of course it was—he’d picked up the sword only to wield it, not with unnecessary distractions.
No other thoughts were necessary.
Fwahk—!
In that moment, a strange sensation burst in his mind.
It wasn’t the realization of something new.
Rather, an important truth he’d long forgotten was finally being etched into his body.
That insight flowed from the Baihui acupoint down along his danzhong, piercing into his wrist.
At once, the palm gripping the sword blade was imbued with that insight, together with the sword’s hilt.
He swung the sword as naturally as breathing.
Saaak—!
In that moment, he understood.
To a swordsman, the sword was no mere hunk of metal.
The sword was part of his very body.
And now, at last he had achieved—
Unity of Man and Sword.
He swung again. Another vertical slice, from above.
Once more, the sword split only empty air.
But now it was different from a moment ago.
As the blade traced its arc, space itself split apart, torn wide.
Through the gaps, glimpses of stunned faces became faintly visible.
Jeong-un drew his sword back, then thrust it forward with a graceful motion—like a painting come to life.
Whoosh—!
A large opening appeared in the rent space. This time, sounds from the outside drifted in.
”That, that madman!”
”He, he got the cult leader—!”
Jeong-un strode confidently through the breach to the outside.
* * *
The Demonic Cult Leader made directly for the cave’s exit.
Mount Tian was a harsh, rugged place.
Nowhere in the Central Plains could compare in terms of how formidable its peaks were.
And here, battles flared up and disappeared in quick succession everywhere.
The Orthodox Alliance avoided gathering in one place, instead dispersing to search Mount Tian and engage Ming Cultists where they met.
But they found it anything but easy.
That was because among the cultists, there were several with especially powerful martial skills.
Mostly aged demonic elders—most of them even older than the cult leader Lee Shin.
They were the High Priests who’d been active fifty years ago, until they vanished following the death of the previous cult leader.
Only after Lee Shin began enacting his grand technique’s plan had these old men crept out to assist.
’Foolish creatures.’
Lee Shin chuckled to himself.
He harbored ambitions different from what he’d revealed to his cultists.
When the grand technique was triggered, he planned to take not only the internal energy of his enemies—but of the Ming Cultists, too.
Of course.
It was absolutely crucial not to leave threats behind.
If those egotistical old men retained any power, who knew how a blade might return against him?
Just because it was a religious sect didn’t mean all members shared unified beliefs.
Quite the opposite—the longer the history, the more fractured the group. Multiple branches had split off.
That was why the High Priests had long refused to follow Lee Shin.
’Once they’re no longer useful—’
He would claim all their lives. Thinking so, he strode forward.
Whoosh!
A battlefield came into his view in the distance.
Ming Cultists and Orthodox martial artists tangled in chaotic combat.
The Orthodox Alliance had greater numbers and significant might.
They were those who had tenaciously followed a trail deep into these mountains.
’Mount Hua, Diancang, Heavenly Martial Hall... The rest are riffraff.’
With just a sweep of his sensitivity, the cult leader recognized the factions present.
With this much power, it was little wonder they’d managed to push in so deep. He saw a few High Priests struggling against enemy leaders.
’All the better.’
By now, the grand technique should be nearly complete.
All these enemies had to die anyway.
Among them, sect leaders of such factions would be ideal for breaking their spirit.
Fwahh!
The cult leader’s form blurred, and in the next instant, he stood in the heart of the battlefield.
He moved toward a middle-aged man locked in swordplay with one of the old High Priests.
This was the newly appointed sect leader of the Old Sects’ Diancang.
Diancang was famed for swordmasters whose swift sword could pierce even the sun itself.
As befit a sect leader, he was overwhelming an elder of the cult who’d honed martial skills for decades.
A sect master of this level naturally belonged in the realm of peerless experts, regardless of age.
Just as not all elders are powerful, not all the young are dismissed as novices; thus, it was only natural that his sensitivity had blossomed.
Yet, as a mysterious figure appeared above his head, this master failed to sense it at all.
Thwack—!
The next instant, his head exploded. Every eye on the battlefield reflexively darted to the scene.
Even though each was locked in a fight for their lives, the stature of an Old Sects’ head was significant.
”Wh-what...?”
”Whose head just got blown off...?”
The headless body toppled limply to the ground.
And above it, all eyes naturally traveled to the figure hovering in midair.
While the shocked onlookers gazed in disbelief—
The elderly High Priest who’d been dueling the now-dead Diancang master stared up and shouted,
”Cult Leader—!”
The impact of those words was immense.
The identity of the one levitating above the battlefield was revealed in an instant—who could doubt it, after such a demonstration?
It was, indeed, an overwhelming debut.
”That’s... the Demonic Cult Leader...!”
”Insane, to see the Ming Cult’s leader with my own eyes.”
”I can’t believe it.”
The battlefield erupted into complete chaos.
Especially, the Ming Cultists’ morale soared sky-high.
No surprise, given their leader’s spectacular entrance and the instant elimination of one of the enemy’s key powers.
That was not all.
To cultists, this appearance carried even greater significance.
It meant that the grand technique, prepared over so many years, was at last complete.
His very presence on the battlefield signified that.
”Waaahhh!”
”Kill the unbelievers!”
The battle, which had paused briefly, roared back to life—with one side now energized and dominant.
’Certainly.’
The efficacy of the grand technique was becoming apparent.
Though the Orthodox martial artists hadn’t noticed, their true ki’s flow was subtly slowing.
The renewed ferocity of the cultists’ assault was not simply the result of a burst of morale.
The internal energy of the orthodox warriors was truly moving sluggishly now.
’At this rate—’
The cult leader shifted his gaze.
He fixed on the strongest leader among the enemies—Heavenly Martial Hall Lord Zhang Mun-gi.
Even the distance between them was trivial.
For peerless experts, even a few sheets’ length could be covered in a step.
At this range, they were almost nose-to-nose.
Their eyes met, but even before an exchange, a question was flung at the cult leader from beside Zhang Mun-gi.
”What did you do to that child?”
It was Zhuge Cheon-woo, chief strategist of Heavenly Martial Hall.
Though his voice was calm, his eyes quivered uncontrollably.
The cult leader tilted his head and asked in reply,
”That child?”
Then, realizing whom he meant, he let out a small exclamation.
”Ah, he must be the one. I thought he was acting alone, but it seems you all placed your hopes on his back.”
He chuckled and continued,
”By now, he’s surely on the brink of death, his whole body’s true ki siphoned away.”
”No!”
Suddenly, a shrill scream burst out.
He glanced sideways—it came from the group of young Heavenly Martial Hall disciples.
A young woman glared at him, her face gone white. A few young men beside her looked utterly stupefied as well.
Then, Zhang Mun-gi narrowed his eyes, staring coldly at the cult leader.
”Does that mean your technique is complete?”
Lee Shin answered with a laugh.
”See for yourself.”
The cult leader’s form seemed to flicker like light and vanished.
Boom—!
A split second later, he was right before Zhang Mun-gi.
He raised his sword, blocking the swift palm strike fueled by powerful enhanced energy.
Around them, an enormous surge of bursting energy sent shockwaves through the ground, causing a bizarre tremor as the earth seemed to collapse inward.
Yet the cult leader’s face remained bright.
He could tell for certain his opponent’s power was not intact. The Grand Formation Where All Laws Return to Emptiness was activating properly.
Its scope and efficacy would only increase with time. Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Thud! Kwaang—!
A flurry of exchanges flashed between them.
Thunderous impacts reverberated through Mount Tian as a hundred twisted currents of movement exploded into a storm of ki waves.
Such was the sight when two absolute masters clashed.
Then, the cult leader’s voice, infused with enormous cultivated power, rang thunderously across the peaks.
”So this is the martial skill of the so-called number one sword of the orthodox faction? Pathetic!”
It was no empty boast—the cult leader was truly overwhelming the Heavenly Martial Hall Lord.
All eyes watched in awe.
The tide of battle was tipping sharply in his favor.
Just as joy and despair split sharply among the sides—
”...?”
Suddenly, the presence of someone approaching at incredible speed was felt from behind.
This wasn’t mere agility; this was lightness skill infused with the mystery of deception.
At the same time, Lee Shin’s expression twisted grotesquely.
It wasn’t just that some mysterious ki wave was charging at him.
Through the grand formation, he felt his command over the surrounding natural energy become unraveled.
No—unraveled wasn’t the word.
It completely slipped from his grasp.
As if the formation’s efficacy had simply vanished.
”The grand technique...?”
Realizing something, he jerked his head back.
And locked eyes with Jeong-un, who was storming toward him at frightening speed.
”You... How...?”
By then, Jeong-un was already swinging his sword.
Both eyes flashed with piercing clarity.
Breaking free from the formation, he had run straight through the cavern wall in a direct charge toward his foe.
Within his hand, the black sword transformed into a bolt of white lightning—like he held light itself.
Saaaaa—!
A white lightning bolt curved in an arc, streaking toward Lee Shin’s throat.
Lee Shin, half-turned, reflexively raised his left hand.
He mustered cultivated power from shoulder to elbow to wrist, wrapping it in layer upon layer for defense.
He instinctively sensed the incoming sword strike was no ordinary blow.
As the two forces collided—
Slip!
Jeong-un’s sword strike narrowly grazed the cult leader’s left hand.
Molded from masterful fist-and-palm arts and wrapped in enhanced energy, the left arm failed to block the strike.
Because it was just short by a hand’s width.
”... What?”
A strangled, dying gasp escaped Lee Shin’s lips.
Fwash—
His head was cut clean off.
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