'Hue! This is going to give me a headache for some time.'

  Chris looked around him. There was nothing… only darkness.

  'Nice! I’m just drifting around.'

  He tried to find a way out of this darkness, but all his attempts ended in failure; not even his system responded to him.

  'Think, Chris. Think. If I can’t reach the system, that means I’m either dreaming… or I’m dead. But no, I don’t think I died. With all the insane things I’ve seen so far, there must be some kind of afterlife.'

  His body drifted around for a long time; he counted several times to 1000 to keep himself entertained until he finally saw a white sphere quickly approaching him.

  Its light spread, swallowing him whole. Chris braced himself.

  When the light faded away, Chris was hovering around a person’s sleeping chamber.

  The chamber was stark, stripped of excess. Smooth wooden floors gleamed faintly in the gray dawn light that pressed through thin paper screens. In one corner sat a small brazier, its embers long since faded, leaving only a faint scent of smoke clinging to the air.

  As he hovered around, he saw that the room was neatly kept; much better than his old apartment. His gaze was drawn to the manuals left unfolded on a small table; the writhing was fuzzy, but for some reason, he could remember their titles: ‘Swift Step’ and ‘Basic Sword Form’.

  'Wow. How can I know the title…and even the contents…of these manuals?'

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the paper door being slid open. A small girl dressed in plain clothes stepped lightly into the room, letting the cool morning air enter. Chris felt like he knew her, but when he drew closer, her face was foggy.

  'I must have the craziest nightmare.'

  Though her face was blurred, he clearly heard her call out:

  “Young Master… dawn has arrived. It is time to rise.”

  Only then did Chris notice the boy sleeping in the chamber… clearly, it was an important person.

  The young master stirred at her words. His eyes opened slowly, clear and sharp despite the hour.

  “What would I do without you, Suni?”

  The young man got up, folded his blanket, and set it aside.

  “Without me, you would be late for your morning training.” She teased him with a soft giggle.

  “Right. Last time I was late, my instructor made me run laps until lunch.” He shivered theatrically. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

  “You’d better hurry, then. I brought you a bowl of fresh water and a change of clothes.”

  “Thank you, Suni. You can leave them near my bed and take your leave.”

  The servant girl carefully put his clothes on the bed and the bowl near his bed, then quietly left and closed the door.

  Chris could see his face clearly, but couldn’t recognize who he was. The boy washed his face and hands, changed his clothes, and went to slide open the door. The room was again engulfed by a bright light that blinded Chris.

  When he opened his eyes, he was hovering above a training ground. His own company’s training facilities were better, but this place carried history.

  The training ground lay open beneath the pale morning sky, a wide courtyard paved with worn stone tiles. The marks of countless battles scarred the surface: faint cracks, chipped edges, and the dark polish of feet that had trodden the same patterns for generations. At the far end rose a weathered wooden platform, its boards smoothed by age, where weapons were neatly arranged: plain staffs, dulled swords, and weighted practice spears.

  In the center, Chris saw two figures: one tall and immovable, and the other the kid he had seen before, now older, looking around 12 years old.

  His instructor's hands were clasped behind his back, his gaze sharp as he watched the pupil before him struggle with a basic sword form. From Chris's perspective, he could see that the boy’s strikes were heavy, unrefined, and his breath ragged from repetition.

  'How do I know this? I’ve learned swordplay, sure, but I’ve never been skilled enough to see flaws this clearly.'

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  As Chris tried to figure out where all this knowledge came from, the instructor’s voice cut through the stillness. Similar to the girl, his face was foggy.

  “Your arm is strong, but your root is weak.” The instructor said, tapping the boy’s shoulder with his wooden sword.

  The boy swallowed hard, nodded, and reset his posture. The courtyard fell silent again, save for the rhythm of the young pupil's breath and the sound of his swings against the air.

  Chris would’ve liked to watch more, but he was engulfed again by the light. This time, he closed his eyes before it could blind him.

  When he opened them, he was stunned. He hovered above a pavilion at dusk, where the sun was yielding to the moon.

  The pavilion hung suspended above the still lake like a lotus bloom floating in the void. Lanterns shaped like lotus petals hung from the eaves, their glow scattering across the water so that the pavilion seemed adrift upon a sea of stars. A slender bridge adorned with blossoms was the only thing connecting it to the shore.

  The lake was motionless, a perfect mirror until the first note of a zither rippled across it, sending gentle waves dancing to the melody.

  Chris got closer to the pavilion and, for the first time, took the time and landed near the pavilion’s entrance. At the same time, the person stopped playing the zither.

  'Can she see me?'

  The woman smiled.

  “Come closer, dear. It has been too long.”

  For a moment, Chris thought she meant him. But then the young man from earlier, now nearly 18, walked right through his immaterial body

  Of course. She can’t see me.

  The young man sat down by her feet and rested his head in her lap. She began caressing his hair. Chris's curiosity got the better of him, and he went closer to see who she was, even though her face might be foggy.

  It wasn’t.

  Her face was serene, carrying the gentle strength of someone who had endured much yet remained unbroken. Time had softened her features but not diminished them. Her eyes were calm and held a fiery and protective nature. Her lips curved with the faintest trace of a smile, not playful but peaceful, the kind of smile that made one feel safe simply by seeing it.

  The glow of the lanterns caught her skin, illuminating it with a soft luster like porcelain warmed by candlelight. Yet it was not beauty alone that defined her face; it was the air of someone whose love had shaped her features, leaving them touched with kindness, patience, and enduring care. He could never forget that face, it was the face of his….

  “Mother! I fear I must leave to begin my journey. I won’t be able to….”

  She pressed a finger gently to his lips.

  “Shhh! Leave your worries behind, child. Go with a calm heart.”

  The boy lowered his head to her lap once more and closed his eyes. The women began singing a lullaby; it was the first time Chris had heard it, but the song touched him deeply. Without knowing, rows of tears were flowing down his cheeks; he wiped them with his sleeve.

  She sang on, but her gaze was no longer on her son; it shifted to Chris, as though peering directly into his soul.

  When the song ended, she kissed her son’s forehead and spoke. Yet her eyes stayed fixed on Chris.

  “There will be a time when you’ll feel lost on your journey. Remember, there will always be a place for you here, a home, even if you feel unworthy to return.”

  She embraced her son.

  Chris longed to stay and unravel her meaning, but the world began to crumble around him.

  'Wait! I’ve so many questions.'

  He tried to fight the force that was pulling him away, but he wasn’t its match. Again, he was surrounded by pitch darkness, but now he was left with more questions running around his mind and no answers.

  'Those must have been Baek Yong-Su’s memories… but that last one?'

  Before he could think further, he heard a voice. For the first time, it wasn’t from a memory. It sounded like Alek’s. But how could he hear him here?

  A light appeared in the distance, the voice echoing from it. As Chris drifted closer, he heard bones rattle, and Marvin’s voice joined in. He tried to reach the light, but the pulling force grew stronger.

  He fought as long as he could, but he could no longer control his body. His body was pulled along the darkness until he could hear a heartbeat, his heartbeat. As he fell into 'his' body, he took a breath of air and opened his eyes.

  “How do you feel escaping death's clutches?”

  Chris didn’t recognize this voice, so he tried to move his head, but the voice spoke again.

  “You shouldn’t move carelessly. I’ve put a lot of work into saving you. You were lucky that I was in the area looking for herbs. The venom almost consumed you, but the little one slowed it enough for me to stabilize you.” He pointed toward Chris’s left hand.

  Chris raised it and saw a tiny black snake curled around his arm, asleep.

  'System, what is going on?'

  -She is Eun-Hwa’s child. I will explain more later, after you leave his hut-

  'What? Why?'

  No reply came.

  Chris carefully put his hand back on the bed and left this strange interaction behind. He turned to his savior.

  “I’m truly grateful. But how should I address you, good-hearted healer?”

  The man gave a guttural laugh.

  “Good-hearted? Haven’t heard that in a long time. Call me Jang Mu-Yeon.”

  The man turned around and began grinding some herbs. As he looked around for other ingredients, he asked Chris a strange question.

  “How did the Baek heir end up hunted by those assassins? What were they called again? Something like Shard… or Shark…” He scratched his head. “Ah, right. Shadow Veil.”

  At that name, Chris bolted upright, summoning his sword. But the shock was too much for his weakened body. He collapsed instantly.

  “I told you not to move.” Jang muttered, catching him easily. “Now you’ll make them worry again. Youngsters… always too energetic.”

  The man carried Chris back and made him swallow a mixture of herbs.

  “Don’t fret, it’ll only help you sleep. Rest well. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when you wake.”

  Chris tried to fight the drowsiness brought by the mixture, but his battered body gave in.

  His mind slipped into sleep.