By Zephyria 
Even with many fortuitous encounters in the world, I believed none were mine.
Throughout my life, I never saw a Secret Manual of Martial Arts (a precious martial arts book) fall in strange cliffs or caves, and only heard rumors of Shaolin’s Great Elixir Pill (Shaolin’s spiritual medicine) or Jasodan (*Mount Hua Sect’s spiritual medicine).
I only caught a glimpse of Ten-Year He Shou Wu and Hundred-Year He Shou Wu (*precious root spiritual medicines aged ten and one hundred years, respectively), which were carefully wrapped, presumably for the main family’s direct descendants or to be sold at the herbalist’s shop.
Born as a collateral branch of the great Namgung Family, I did not receive Bone Marrow Cleansing, yet I held a sword in my hand from the age of five.
It was perhaps better than the beggars wandering around, to be named Namgung, to practice the Changcheon Muae Sword, and to wear silk clothes without worrying about hunger, dedicating myself to cultivation.
The fact that I consistently occupied at least the last seats in the Martial Alliance Dragon Phoenix Gathering (*a tournament for rising stars to compete in martial arts) held every three years, even if I never won, was also a result of such early education.
A little past my twentieth year, I earned the title of First-Rate Martial Artist and wandered the martial world, engaging in Wandering Knights against the Green Forest and Evil Sects.
While most direct descendants of noble families married early and had children to prepare for the future of their clans, it had recently become a trend for collateral branches to marry late. They had no inherited wealth or land, nor any unique Esoteric skill to pass down through a single lineage.
I was grateful that my constant cultivation of internal energy made me look like I was in my twenties even after passing thirty, and like I was in my twenties even after passing forty. I lived by occasionally helping the family and wandering the martial world.
In the year I turned forty-two, having barely entered the Transcendent Peak, the Demonic Cult rose to power.
Among the Nine Sects, the Gongdong Sect and the Qingcheng Sect were the first to Seal their Sects (*when martial arts sects and noble families face great calamity and voluntarily cease external activities to repent).
The Jongnam Sect and Mount Hua Sect established a long front line, vying for Xi’an. Hundreds and thousands of martial artists threw themselves into the fray like moths to a flame, dying in droves. Many commoners also died entangled in the battles of martial artists.
Mountains burned, and rivers ran dry.
The Five Great Clans and countless lesser noble families pooled their strength. Jang Mu-hyeon, the Number One Sword of Wudang, charged to the front lines to engage the Heavenly Demon in a Life and Death Duel. Tens of thousands of martial artists followed him. I was there too. I died on that battlefield, where flesh was torn and bones shattered.
And then, I lived again.
When I first opened my eyes, my body was devoid of energy. I thought my Dantian (*the place where internal energy and qi are stored; generally believed to be in the lower abdomen around the navel) must have been shattered in the harsh battle.
However, when I naturally Circulated Qi (*the act of gathering internal energy; touching one’s qi during circulation can cause internal injury), I realized that was not the case as a rice-grain-sized bit of energy flowed through the acupoints with practiced ease.
I also thought that my inability to move my limbs freely, despite my clear consciousness, might be the result of some strange technique from the Demonic Cult.
But this was disproven when I saw the pale cloth wrapped around the hand waving before my eyes.
What kind of bizarre event was this in the world?
It took me seven days and nights to realize that even when I exerted all my strength, I could only flail my limbs, which refused to obey, rather than even shifting my body.
All this time, the ones hovering around me and speaking to me were all Colored-Eye People (*people with colorful hair and eye colors; foreigners).
I, who found it strange that the experts from the North Sea Ice Palace (*a martial arts power believed to be in the north of the Central Plains) had silver hair and blue eyes, was now shocked by the men and women speaking to me here, whose hair was not just gold, red, or blue, but also purple or a very pale blue.
How could human hair have such colors?
Was this what the Buddhist Six Paths of Reincarnation looked like?
I pondered, but found no answer. In my confusion, I tried to open my mouth to ask about various things, but naturally, we could not understand each other.
They conversed in sweet tones, chirping like birds and reciting poetry.
Looking back, it might have been fortunate that I was in the form of a young child who had not yet learned to speak properly, so my slurred tongue prevented me from asking too many questions.
If a newborn baby had started questioning where they were and who they were, they might have been suspected of being possessed by a fiend.
A woman with lavender hair and green eyes said she was my mother, and a man with black hair and red eyes said he was my father.
The couple’s relationship was not good; the father was often away, and the mother was frail and always listless.
The mother would visit to see my face about once every three days, and the father would arrive with a cool breeze after about a month, linger by the cradle, and then disappear.
Therefore, the one who mostly took care of me was a wet nurse with brown hair and brown eyes.
It was a humiliating experience, like having dementia, to need someone to wipe my rear after passing forty, but it was a relief to be fed milk from a strangely tough bottle instead of breast milk.
I ate, slept, and in my free time, I cultivated my Mind Method. It was easier than expected to regain my lost internal energy, thanks to the Ren and Du Meridians (*important acupoints that are open at birth but naturally close with age) being unblocked.
Since I had never learned Dynamic Qi (*internal energy cultivation methods practiced while moving), I only Circulated Qi in the deep night when the wet nurse would not disturb me.
Thus, I became Michael Ernhardt, not Namgung Jeong-yeon.