Blood soaks the earth, and the lamentations of those who survived after losing their kin shake the heavens and earth.
The surroundings are filled with blood and death.

For a modern person who has lived a peaceful life, such sentences might be incomprehensible, but today was different.
“Yeon-ah, Yeon-ah! Your mother is dead! It’s my fault. I cowardly fled to save myself!”
An elderly man in his twilight years grabbed the girl’s arm and wailed. He was the old man who used to give her a few potatoes, praising her for helping her parents despite their poverty.
The girl couldn’t understand. Had he lost his mind after losing his own parents? No. If that were the case, it might have been a relief.

‘Where is this place?’
Why am I here?
The girl’s name was Seo Yeon (徐蓮). It was a humble name, but one her ignorant mother had earned through years of sweat and blood by serving the local gentry.

Of course, the gentry hadn’t put much thought into naming a mere village girl’s daughter. But Seo Yeon’s mother didn’t know that and was delighted anyway.

Seo Yeon’s mother was always smiling. She plowed fields better than most men and carried heavy loads with ease. Her kindness was such that no one in the village hadn’t received her help.
Such a person lay dead, her eyes not even closed.

The girl’s body trembled. Nausea rose in her throat. This wasn’t a beautifully packaged death in a coffin. It was real death.
She recalled mocking people in dramas who vomited at the sight of corpses, but the cruelty of reality far exceeded imagination.
The foul smell from mingled entrails and blood amplified the horror several times over. The corpse of someone who died with eyes open evoked not just brutality but terror.

‘Is this my mother?’
The girl had no mental space left to think about possession, reincarnation, or even a gender swap. All she could do was collapse and vomit.
It’s dizzying. Terrifying. Will I die like that too? Where is this place, and why did I wake up here?
I don’t know anything. I can’t understand at all.

Thatched houses burned everywhere, and screams from survivors who endured the same horrors echoed from all directions.
She wanted to run away right now.
Death, which she hadn’t felt even at funerals, was assaulting her from every side.
This place was different from the modern world. It was a barbaric era where it wasn’t strange for someone alive yesterday to die by the sword today.

The girl—no, Seo Yeon—knew what this world was called.
Murim (武林).
A world where only strength was the law: survival of the strongest.
A world built under the rules of sword-wielders disguised as righteous, neutral, or demonic.
Waking up as a powerless commoner in a world she once admired felt utterly horrific.
Seo Yeon had a natural talent. It was in wielding the sword.

However, after witnessing the horror on that bloody day, she wanted nothing to do with Murim. She never wanted to get entangled with the Jianghu again.
Her appearance was refined and outstanding, so if she wished, she could marry a man of power and live in comfort. But perhaps due to her previous life’s influence, she instinctively rejected it.
Seo Yeon went into the mountains. It was a mountain near Anhui Province, where the Namgung family resided. She calculated that bandits wouldn’t dare set foot there.

And she used her sword skills not as a tool to cut people, but as an instrument to carve wood.
The blade flowed along the wood grain, and the timber formed graceful curves. With each carving, Seo Yeon’s soul found peace, and the knotted emotions toward her mother, fallen in blood, gradually melted away.
Seo Yeon made a living by selling her carvings. She covered her face with a veil. When she excused it as scars from a childhood burn, the merchants asked no more.

As time passed, Seo Yeon’s skill reached mastery. Her fingertips grew more delicate, and a mysterious energy began to emanate from her body.
Unbeknownst to her, Seo Yeon had been honing her unparalleled talent by treating carving as her core cultivation. But she herself remained unaware of this truth.
Seo Yeon’s appearance grew more radiant with the years. Her hair shimmered like moonlight, her skin was fair as snow, and the graceful curves of her body exuded an aura as if a celestial maiden had descended.

Yet Seo Yeon regarded such curves as burdensome baggage.
Thus, several more years passed. Seo Yeon’s carving skill now far transcended the ordinary. Her soul began to infuse into the carvings. Not the metaphorical soul that connoisseurs spoke of. It was enough to make one mistake the carved wood for something alive and breathing.

Roots sprouted from the carvings, leaves budded. Flowers bloomed, autumn winds scattered leaves, and birds perched and chirped.
This was no feat for an ordinary artisan. In the Jianghu, it was called the Natural Realm (自然境). A supreme state that determined life and death, transcending human limits, permitted only to a handful of absolute beings throughout history.

It was around then that her eyes and hair turned a peach-blossom pink, reminiscent of the lines in a painting.
However, Seo Yeon didn’t know. She only wondered if the author who dropped her into this world had set her as an elf hybrid.
Of course, since elves didn’t exist in Murim, she simply thought it was a special ability granted when she fell into this world.

Time passed again. At some point, Seo Yeon no longer needed a knife for carving. She reached a state where she could shape wood with intent alone.
The world called this the Heart Sword. The ultimate realm all martial artists pursued, where the mind replaced the blade. Yet the person in question simply smiled modestly, thinking she wouldn’t need to sharpen her carving knife anymore.

The mountain where Seo Yeon resided began showing strange changes at some point. Clear spiritual energy blanketed the foothills, renowned spirit herbs bloomed on their own, and ordinary beasts transformed into auspicious creatures that revered the heavens.
The news soon shook the Jianghu and quickly reached the overlord of Anhui Province, the Namgung family (南宮世家).
The Namgung family moved swiftly. They immediately declared the area their territory and banned all commoners from entering. As a result, the merchants who traded with Seo Yeon stopped coming, so she had no idea what was happening in the outside world.

But Seo Yeon paid no attention to worldly affairs. She remained immersed in her carving.
Moreover, at some point, a massive white tiger began following her. The white tiger, transformed by spiritual energy into a majestic form, stuck to her like a shadow, showering her with affection, leaving no room for loneliness.
Yet Seo Yeon wondered if she had truly become a druid or something.

Around that time, the Namgung family’s elite Blue Sky Sword Squad (蒼天劍隊) mobilized.
Their mission was to thoroughly inspect the newly incorporated territory and guard against any intruders. This land was akin to a sacred ground filled with spirit medicines and auspicious beasts, so they couldn’t tolerate outsiders.
The Blue Sky Sword Squad had already learned from merchants that a woman resided deep in the mountain’s center.
As a group flying the banner of the righteous faction, they intended to offer fair compensation and seek her understanding rather than drive her out by force.

Thus, the Blue Sky Sword Squad cautiously approached Seo Yeon’s dwelling deep in the mountain.
And finally, when they encountered Seo Yeon.
“That is….”
One member of the squad held his breath.
“Has a celestial maiden truly descended to the mortal world?”
A woman with hair enveloped in peach mist sat in a pavilion by the pond, stroking a white tiger.
The sight was unreal.
Spiritual energy flowing from all directions, a beauty surpassing celestial maidens, a majestic white tiger straight out of myths.

The Blue Sky Sword Squad even stopped breathing. This wasn’t the human world. It was a scene that shouldn’t exist in the mortal realm.
Amid this, some young members suspected they were caught in an illusion array and hastily drew their swords.
At that moment, the Blue Sky Sword Squad leader, Namgung Sang (南宮翔), extended his hand like lightning and pressed down the member’s sword.

Namgung Sang was a Jianghu expert who had survived countless battles and crossed life and death. His seasoned instincts told him:
The recent anomalies shaking the mountain range—all of it stemmed from this woman.
Namgung Sang took a deep breath. But even that breath was ragged.
‘Her realm is unfathomable.’
It wasn’t a human realm. A transcendent celestial boundary. His subordinates’ talk of celestial maidens was no exaggeration.

Namgung Sang was a warrior representing the renowned Namgung family in the world, but in this moment, he couldn’t even attempt to ask her name.
‘What use is Jianghu fame to such a being?’
Yet he couldn’t just retreat recklessly. A careless move could wipe out the Blue Sky Sword Squad. Above all, as a loyal servant of the Namgung family, he had a duty to report to the family head.
Meanwhile,

Seo Yeon was tense in her own way. From the pattern embroidered in blue thread on the scabbard and the blue sky emblem on their backs, they were clearly from the Namgung family.
‘Why is the Namgung family after me?’
Seo Yeon couldn’t hide her bewilderment. She knew her carving skills were exceptional. That’s why she only gave the merchants the lowest quality pieces, fearing attention.
Even the trivial items she carved absentmindedly with her fingers or while lying down wiggling her toes were hailed as treasures, and no major issues arose.

But perhaps staying too long was a mistake. Rumors must have reached the Namgung family’s ears.
If worst came to worst, she even thought of riding the white tiger’s back to escape.
It was then.
Namgung Sang abruptly bowed his head.
“I apologize for disturbing your rest.”
Namgung Sang’s voice was sincerely solemn.
“We heard a woman lives alone in the mountain and thoughtlessly intruded. Please forgive our rudeness.”
Namgung Sang couldn’t even lift his head.
Seo Yeon narrowed her eyes. Through the veil, she saw Namgung Sang kneeling.
She suddenly recalled how in some novels and media she had seen, prestigious families like Namgung were portrayed as villainous groups.

But this Jianghu seemed a bit different. At least the Namgung family didn’t appear to be evil.
These men, twice her age by appearance, knelt on their own just for trespassing. Their humility wasn’t feigned.
Of course, one could suspect it was because of the white tiger, but would members of a world-roaming family like Namgung fear a mere tiger?
Seo Yeon concluded as such.

She still wanted no involvement with Murim, but she had at least a shred of decency.
“May I ask why you’ve come?”
Seo Yeon’s voice was clear. Clear and calm, like a spring breeze seeping into a mountain valley. Some members were so entranced they held their breath.
A few unconsciously lifted their heads to gaze at Seo Yeon, then ashamedly lowered them again.
Namgung Sang hesitated for a moment.
Should he lie?

But the moment he met Seo Yeon’s eyes, he realized.
Before those piercing eyes that seemed to see through everything, lying would invite calamity.
In the end, Namgung Sang chose to confess the truth while bowing deeply.
“The Namgung family has come to own this area, and we intended to offer fair compensation to the residents and… ask them to leave.”
He didn’t make pathetic excuses like not knowing a celestial maiden was here or that it was an ignorant mistake.
He knew honesty was the best policy.
A brief silence flowed.

“Please give me three days. I need to pack my things.”
“…We spoke out of turn… Pardon? What did you just say?”
Seo Yeon smiled calmly.
“I heard this has become Namgung family land. Then, a wild person like me should leave. If I must depart immediately, could you give me two hours?”
“Ah… N-no! Take your time to prepare.”
Namgung Sang hurriedly waved his hands.
“Th-then, we’ll take our leave! Rest well!”
Watching the hastily retreating Blue Sky Sword Squad, Seo Yeon thought.
At least the Namgung family has some propriety.