Backstory

Months ago, Raiden relentlessly pursued what the secret services termed "xenotechnology." Doc had hinted it suggested the existence of intelligent aliens, adding to the intrigue already stirred by the Body-Snatchers in Cuba. But the group that acquired it wasn't interested in extraterrestrial life; their focus was on weaponizing xenotech for purposes the world wasn't prepared to face.

"Can't let that happen," Raiden muttered grimly.

The facility concealed deep within a sprawling town, hummed with activity as Raiden stealthily manoeuvred through its labyrinthine corridors. An armoured guard rounded a corner, spotting Raiden too late. In a blur of motion, Raiden swiftly closed the twenty-meter distance.

The guard's communication system crackled to life, but before he could speak, Raiden struck. His sword sliced through the air with deadly precision, severing limbs and armour alike. Metal clattered to the ground as the guard fell, cut into pieces, never able to complete the distress call.

"Not a day goes by without killing," Raiden thought, his bitterness reflected in his hardened gaze.

Raiden's footsteps echoed through the sterile corridors of the facility, his enhanced senses alert to every detail. He had already dispatched numerous guards with swift, precise strikes, his high-frequency blade slicing through armour and machinery alike. Now, he stood at the threshold of the chamber, facing his final adversary: Asakura, a cybernetic ninja much like himself and a former comrade from his days as a child soldier.

Asakura stood poised and composed, his new body sleek and menacing, white and pale blue armour contrasting sharply with Raiden's darker, more rugged appearance. Raiden's red-black high-frequency katana Muramasa hummed ominously, while Asakura's blue steel blade shimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights, almost glowing with an eerie light.

"So, you've come, Jack the Ripper," Asakura's voice resonated, calm yet laced with determination. His tone was measured, almost serene, in stark contrast to Raiden's gravelly, hard-edged voice that carried the weight of countless battles.

Raiden halted in his steps and asked, "Why are you doing this, Asakura? You know as much as I do what will happen once xenotech weapons are unleashed."

Asakura replied, "The evolution of weapons will hit a new speed, and we, my brother in war, will be at the forefront of that. Biological limitations crushed out, and Level-2 War will be fought between immortal machine gods."

He then asked, "Why don't you lend a hand? We both were born to kill, Jack. I see... You are not Jack. JACK! I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE JACK! COME OUT! LET US PLAY LIKE OLD TIMES!"

His voice broke from calm to frenzy.

"Not a chance," Raiden growled. "I was born to kill, not to philosophize about it and certainly not be a war occultist or whatever you have become."

"War-Occultist?" Asakura laughed, the sound was haunting and echoing through the chamber. "That's an exquisite title, Asakura the War Occultist. War is the absolute point of existence. Conflict is at the core, at the very inception of creation, and everything comes from the womb of that bloody struggle. Life can only exist against the background of death, and war against peace, and vice versa. Everything becomes meaningful only in such contrast. War isn't merely a means to achieving a higher end: it is the end."

Raiden shrugged, his machine arm flexing as he tightened his grip on his katana. The tension between them was palpable, Asakura's almost philosophical demeanour clashing with Raiden's raw, unyielding intensity.

"Enough philosophy. This ends here."

Asakura drew his high-frequency blade with fluid grace, its green steel shimmering with an almost ethereal light. His movements were precise, and almost elegant, while Raiden's approach was more aggressive, a brutal efficiency born from years of relentless combat.

"In the universe's indifferent coldness, I found Providence in War. Now I ask War to be my God," he spoke, his cybernetic eyes narrowing in focus. The contrast between his calm, almost reverent tone and Raiden's grim determination was stark.

Without hesitation, they lunged at each other. Raiden moved with blinding speed, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to close the distance in an instant. His blade slashed through the air with lethal precision, aiming for Asakura's cybernetic joints and vital points. Asakura, using his swift movements and agility, countered each strike with fluidity, his motions almost dance-like compared to Raiden's raw, unrestrained power.

He crossed large distances in an instant, trying to maintain some space from the Ripper, but Raiden was relentless in his pursuit and didn't give Asakura any time to strategize. They clashed on walls and ceilings; and now and then, Muramasa would pass through the blocks and parries and nib at Asakura's armour making small cuts in metal. Their blurry clash of spark and metal left bumps and cuts in walls designed to endure nuclear explosion.

Raiden's attacks were relentless and calculated, each strike aiming to exploit any weakness in Asakura's defence from any angle. But Asakura managed to deflect almost all of Raiden's assaults with uncanny speed.

"After our last encounter, I thought it was proper to get some upgrades," Asakura said, his tone almost conversational, in stark contrast to the deadly dance they were engaged in.

"Then show me how you'll handle this."

Mechanisms started churning inside Raiden's body at that moment.

[Blade Mode]

Raiden's sensory data collection and reaction speed overclocked at that moment, making it seem as if everything was moving in slow motion. Muramasa moved with inhuman precision, slicing through Asakura's shoulder armour with devastating efficiency.

With a barely functioning right arm, and wires spilling out his damaged shoulder, Asakura pushed his reaction speed to its limit and with lightning-fast reflexes, narrowly avoided some strikes and deflected others with his blade.

Fluid leaked from Asakura's armour for all the damage endured. Asakura dashed forward with a roar, and in a blur of motion, delivered a series of rapid slashes. With the effect of Blade Mode gone, it was now Raiden who parried and dodged, his cybernetic body moving with mechanical precision to evade Asakura's attacks.

The clash of their blades intensified, and as the battle raged on, Raiden unleashed his thunderbolt attack, a powerful electrical discharge that surged through his blade and into Asakura's cybernetic systems. Sparks flew as Asakura's systems momentarily faltered, giving Raiden a brief opening to press his advantage. He placed his Muramasa back in its sheath and prepared for the final move.

"Now you won't. Come out, Moonlight!"

Asakura quickly retaliated with a thrust, and a white beam of energy launched at his enemy. Raiden dodged, but the beam extended farther into the metal walls, melting them like a hot knife through butter. Asakura moved to swing the energy blade at his opponent, but within that moment, the mechanism in Muramasa's sheath activated, pushing it forward like the fastest bullet as Raiden simultaneously drew the blade for a quick draw. For an instant, time stood still, and he saw a tunnel of myriad hues, the light spectrum bending, as Muramasa's attack velocity reached beyond light speed. With a final, decisive strike, Raiden severed through the moonlight beam, Asakura's blade arm, and head from his body.

"It had to come to this," Raiden murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of their battle. He swung Muramasa in the air to clean it of any of Asakura's inner pieces or fluid. Asakura remained standing even in death, his body split from armpit to neck. Raiden yanked the blade from the dead cyborg's grip to carry it with him, as he had done numerous times before with other enemies. Then he walked away.

Finally, Raiden reached the core of the operation—a heavily secured chamber where the coveted artefact lay. The so-called xenotech was a floating, seemingly living liquid metal encased in an intricate container, emitting a faint, uncanny glow that seemed to pulse with latent power.

Raiden carefully approached tartefactact, his fingers brushing over its smooth, alien surface.

"This is it," Raiden whispered, his breath hitching with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

With practised precision, Raiden triggered the mechanism on the numerous levers laid about, unleashing a surge of energy that crackled through the room. The substance hummed and glowed brighter, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Suddenly, a rift in space tore open before Raiden, swirling with blinding light and raw power.

"What the f—"

Caught in the maelstrom, Raiden was engulfed by the vortex, his senses overwhelmed as he hurtled through the rift. Time seemed to warp and bend around him, a disorienting blur of colours and sensations.

Then, with a deafening roar that echoed through the sky, Raiden plummeted through the night sky like a streak of lightning. The ground rushed up to meet him with alarming speed, and he crashed into the land with an earth-shaking impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the landscape.

Raiden lay sprawled on the ground, dazed and disoriented. Around him, the lush greenery of Murim stretched out in every direction, a stark contrast to the sterile confines of the facility he had left behind. Birds chirped overhead, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

Slowly pushing himself up, Raiden surveyed his surroundings with wide eyes. "Where... am I?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the ambient sounds of nature.

A nearby stream mirrored his bewildered expression as Raiden caught sight of his reflection—a young boy with shock-white hair and piercing blue eyes. His hand trembled as he touched his face, the realization sinking in with each passing moment.

"What the hell happened to me?"

----------------------

- Current Time

Raiden found himself amidst the serenity of the Shaolin guest chambers.

"I find myself in a world so different from my own," Raiden mused, his gaze wandering over the lush gardens and echoing corridors of Shaolin. Since arriving, he had intervened swiftly to save a nearby village from bandits, earning the gratitude of its inhabitants. There, he discovered this world had two intersecting societies: one reminiscent of ancient East Asia and the other like the mythical realms of Chinese fiction. They called the latter Jianghu or Murim, a society composed of factions who had trained their martial arts to supernatural levels, using Qi which was more real and tangible here than it was back on Earth.

"What if all this turns out to be some kind of simulation?" Raiden mused. 'That would make it less shocking.'

He then reflected on the xenotech's fusion with him during the rift. Its self-perpetuating, self-organizing nature might have intertwined with his cybernetic enhancements, explaining how he hadn't run out of energy yet.

"The xenotech's integration fuels me," he concluded.

Amidst his contemplation, Raiden's thoughts returned to Muramasa, the high-frequency katana lost during his journey through the rift.

"Muramasa," Raiden whispered, his hand instinctively reaching for the blade that was no longer at his side. He brushed his fingers against the black blade he currently used, which he took from one of the bandit's corpses. It was nowhere near the level of a HF blade but seemed to be of a better quality than most of the blades he saw here.

"One step at a time," he reminded himself. "First, the competition. Then, the Archives. And finally, hopefully, home."

He was determined to make sense of this new world and find a way back. But for now, he had to focus on surviving and navigating through Murim, adapting to its strange yet familiar ways.

As he prepared to step out of the guest chambers, a monk approached him. "Raiden, Monk Xu has requested your presence at the main hall. He wishes to discuss your participation in the upcoming martial arts tournament."

Raiden nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I'll be there shortly."

Since coming here Raiden had been plagued by a lot of worries, losing wasn't one of them.

'Nothing in this world as far as know, even beings from the exaggerated tales I heard from farmers, nothing should be able to beat me.'

Not the young dragons and phoenixes. Not the so-called ranked masters. Not the Ten Heavens who were regarded as the strongest masters among the Alliance of Orthodox Schools. If this morning Raiden hadn't held back on that kick with Chung Myung, that boy surely would have exploded into bloody mist.

*************************

-Mount Hua Guest Area

The disciples quickly assembled, forming a semicircle around Chung Myug. Whether it might be junior disciples of his level or senior disciples above him, they all listened to him and whispered.

"He seems very angry."

"Probably because that boy managed to get through his guard."

"I agree."

"Enough whispering!" Chung shouted. "I'll break that kid's head when I see him in the competition. Back to training, because of the duration of the competition, we don't have time to learn some new techniques, much less master them. So let's try our best to embody what we have."

Chun Myung paused, looking each disciple in the eye to ensure they were fully attentive. "Let's start with your footing. Your toes are your connection to the ground. They anchor you and give you stability. Without a solid foundation, everything else falls apart."

Chung Myung demonstrated, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet and slightly bending his knees. "Feel the earth beneath you. Let your toes grip it. This is where your power begins."

The disciples mirrored his stance, concentrating on the subtle adjustments in their footing.

"Good," Chung Myung nodded. "Now, from your toes, the power flows through your legs. Your legs are the pillars of your strength. As you move, the energy travels up from your feet, through your calves, to your thighs."

He moved slowly, emphasizing the shift of energy up his legs. "Next, it reaches your hips. The hips are the centre of your balance and the pivot point of your power. As you turn, you must channel this energy seamlessly."

Chung Myung demonstrated a smooth pivot, his movements fluid and controlled. The disciples followed suit, feeling the connection from their toes to their hips.

"Baek Cheon, your hips are too stiff. Loosen them up," Chung Myung corrected. "Baek Sang, you need to lower your stance slightly. Better."

He continued, "From your hips, the power flows to your shoulders. Your shoulders should be relaxed, not tense. They are the bridge between your body and your arms. Keep them loose to move more fluidly. As the energy reaches your shoulders, it must flow freely into your arms."

Chung Myung raised his arms, mimicking the flow of energy. "Your arms then direct this power to your fingers. Your fingers must be firm but not rigid. They are the final point of contact with your sword."

He picked up his sword, holding it with a delicate yet firm grip. "Now, the power extends from your fingers to the sword. The sword becomes an extension of your body, your will."

With a swift, elegant motion, Chung Myung executed a perfect strike, the sword slicing through the air with a sharp whistle. "This is the flower of power—rooted in your footing, flowing through your hips, shoulders, arms, and fingers, and finally, blossoming in your sword."

The disciples watched in awe, absorbing every detail of his demonstration. Chung Myung turned to them with a satisfied nod. "Now, you try. Remember, it's not just about strength. It's about the harmony of your entire body working as one."

Chung Myung then moved to the techniques. "Now, let's work on the Nascent Tree stance. This stance is crucial for maintaining a balanced, defensive position while being ready to strike at any moment."

He adjusted his posture, standing with one leg slightly in front of the other, his weight evenly distributed. "Your sword tip should be just below neck length, held at a medium span of its range. Grip the sword with one hand, allowing the other to remain free for balance or quick adjustments."

The disciples mimicked his stance, holding their swords as instructed. "This stance allows you to be both rooted and flexible," Chung Myung explained. "Like a young tree, you are firm yet capable of bending without breaking."

"Your footing remains grounded, your hips centred. The power still flows from your toes, up your legs, through your hips and shoulders, but your arm is now more free to move and respond to threats. Keep your shoulders loose to enable swift, fluid movements."

He demonstrated a few defensive manoeuvres, smoothly transitioning from one position to another while maintaining the Nascent Tree stance.

"Baek Cheon, your stance is solid, but relax your grip slightly. You need flexibility," Chung Myung advised. "Baek Sang, lower your sword just a bit. It should be ready to strike, not too high or too low."

"The Nascent Tree stance is part of the Flowing Branch Sword Technique," Chung Myung continued, his voice taking on a more profound tone. "The Flowing Branch technique emphasizes fluidity and adaptability, allowing you to switch seamlessly from a one-handed to a two-handed grip. This flexibility lets you modify your sword's range and control your strikes with precision."

He demonstrated by smoothly shifting from a one-handed grip to a two-handed grip, adjusting the sword's position effortlessly. "Notice how the weight on your toes allows you to move with more versatility," Chung Myung explained. "This stance lets you absorb the impact from clashing swords, redistributing the force through your body and maintaining your balance."

The disciples practised the Nascent Tree stance, their movements becoming more fluid and coordinated with each repetition. Chung Myung continued to offer guidance, his sharp eyes catching every flaw and his corrections helping them improve.

"Remember, the key to the stance is balance and readiness. You must be able to defend and attack seamlessly," Chung Myung emphasized. "For us our strikes are fluid, our attack paths are myriad, everchanging, but for our opponents predicting them is as hard predicting the movement of petals in the wind."

His voice became serious. "Also remember you are not allowed to lose to the Alliance bastards. We are not here to learn. We are here for experience. We are here to win."

The Sect Leader watched from a distance with a wry smile. Junior training seniors, in which another sect could such a sight be seen? He didn't know the answer. The day after Chun Myung joined the sect he had beaten his junior disciple into submission and made them train with his methods. Ridiculous as it was the methods worked and Mount Hua junior disciples defeated the same Kongtong Sect's disciples they were once routinely losing to. That was but the beginning of miracles he brought to Mount Hua, from bringing the sect back from being of bankruptcy, recovering lost techniques written by Plum Blossom Sword Saint and even discovering the secret recipes of the Medicine Saint.

Chung Myung's intuition told him what the Sect Leader might have been thinking of.

'Can't tell them that I am the reincarnation of Plum Blossom Sword Saint, not just yet, the one who codified the Mount Hua sword style by deriving new techniques like Flowing Branch from much the much complex 24 Plum Blossom Sword Style, making a new system of learning for the sect, the one who was called the strongest of his generation, the one who lead Mount Hua's charge against the Demonic Cult, the one who slayed the Heavenly Demon.'

Chung Myung's expression darkened.

'The one who caused Mount Hua's downfall.'