Prelude:

Once upon a time, in the dangerous pugilist world, there was an invincible swordsman who had travel all over the world throughout his prime, defeating evil doers and challenging champions. None has succeeded to gain victory over his swordsmanship, for no one has ever seen such form and style of swordplay that the swordsman has displayed in front of them all. No weapon nor styles of martial arts has ever found a way to find any weakness against the invincible swordsman's swordplay.

"Under the mighty heaven, no one is my equal!"

He declared to the world after seeing no other worthy opponents in his eyes, the invincible swordsman decided to issued an invitation, waiting for any martial artist to seek him and wager a combat of skill and strength to claim his title. None has ever achieve this challenge for the next few decades, many champions who were defeated by his blade name that swordsman the "Sword Devil", for his skills and techniques are unorthodox and uncanny to every grand masters and sects for those who has heard of his swordplay, leaving them in confusion and despair after every battle; this further saddens the swordsman.

Feeling remorseful at his later age, the swordsman then retreated himself and live in seclusion in a deep valley, with only a condor as his companion for the rest of his life with his battled wooden blade… Until a mysterious force took him to another world, for another adventure.

End of Prelude…

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Chapter One: A Purple Samurai and An Old Senile Man…

An old senile man arrived at a small chapel, looking for his companion. Seeing that his condor is nowhere to be found, he then sat at a corner of a chapel wall, resting after a long day of search and travel. A samurai, dressed in purple noticed at the old man as he stared at old stranger, he then approached the old man with a calm yet determined look on his face and decided to talk to him.

Old Man: ...Can I help you?

Samurai: You seem like a man that had experience lots of battles.

Old Man: Too many, I would say. For I am cursed with an invincible swordplay; over many decades I kill foes and defeated champions, under the mighty heaven no one is my equal...

The sad old man looked at the ground as he spoke slowly again.

Old Man: The unbearable loneliness is my destiny...

The samurai noticed he has no weapon but a wooden sword on his right hand. This caught his curiosity and decide to continue his conversation with the old man.

Samurai: I was also once known to be unrivalled. Until a warrior of such peril and grace, such... strength has proved this man otherwise; the sword is my way.

Old Man: Sword, is just a tool, a weapon to fight. My philosophy has come to a stage where anything can be my blade, thus a bladeless, formless, style-less swordplay. Speed and enlightenment is the key.

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The samurai smiled and sat down with the old man as he has found a friend and a swordsman to share his thoughts with.

Samurai: A tool yes. One many have dedicated themselves to. Only the best prevailed. Speed; speed to slay a speeding swallow.

Old Man: Speed, to surpass every move, pre-emptive strike towards the opponent. Study every gesture for every style, none escapes the basic striking foundation.

The old man pointed up at the cloudy thunderous sky as he continued his explanation.

Old man: Lightning is always faster than thunder, which is why we cover our ears when we see one.

The old man then looked down and stared at the samurai's blade at his waist.

Old man: Anticipate your opponent's move, and predict his attack. If you can reach that stage, your opponent will have no choice but to only defend; before he could even draw his weapon, your blade is already at his neck. Thus the pinnacle of speed and enlightened swordplay; offensive counterstrike.

Samurai: Yes. You seem to understand well. You made me curious. Now then, may I ask for this dance, please.

The samurai stood up and took a few steps back, in a flash the blade reflects the light of it as he draw his lethal blade. However, the samurai suddenly noticed that the tip of the old man's wooden sword was already touching his right wrist; the hand that he was using to draw his blade.

Dugu: Don’t be hasty, my name is Dugu Qiubai (独孤求败) aka, a loner who seeks defeat. What is yours lad?

Kojirou: truly. You are impressive, but are you as impressive as the one that bested me? I go by the name of Sasaki Kojirou.

The samurai took another step back and went into a striking position. An intense killing aura slowly emerge towards the calmed old man as the samurai's blade aimed towards its unarmed target.

Kojirou: May this be a satisfying dance of death!

Dugu: Sigh... I do not seek the battle of life and death, only a sparring of skill and style.

With an amazing speed, the old man instantly dashed forward and reached his striking range, placing his stick at the samurai's right wrist again; sealing his first strike in a polite way.

Dugu: Your aura and your gesture has given your strike away... Be still like a silent lake, instinct over memory, forget everything you know. Let your muscles take over.

The samurai did not reply as he vanished into thin air. In a lightning fast speed he suddenly appeared and striked towards the old man. From the right, the left, and also from above. The after-images of his extreme speed did not disappear, for these are no mere after-images; the sheer speed of the attacker made his strikes appear from all three angles within the same moment!

Seeing everything within his sight, the old man countered them all with his wooden stick, aiming the samurai's wrist again and again just enough for the striker to see where the old man was targeting; indicating that the old man had break the samurai's swordplay completely.

Dugu: One, two. One two three, and one... Predictable.

The samurai's calmed gaze does not change while retreating back to his position in awe and respect toward this old man.

Kojirou: W-what? No one has ever... I am impressed. No one was ever able to see through this.

Seeing enough, the old man raised his other hand, ready to receive his last strike bare-handed. Knowing this is a one-sided battle, the samurai then sheathed his sword and surrendered.

Kojirou: I can see that I have no chance of winning.

Dugu: Wise choice samurai, you have see it through; you are indeed a true master swordsman.

The old man slowly walked away from the chapel for he had enough rest and warmth in this quiet chapel. He then spoke to the samurai while walking towards the distance of his next unknown destination...

Dugu: Customise your style, to a point where everything does not matter anymore. Constant change is the key.

The old man slowly faded into darkness as his footsteps gradually disappeared into the air, the samurai bowed at the mysterious old man for his valuable lesson. Little that Kojirou knew that he faced was none other that the legendary Sword Devil Dugu Qiubai, aka a loner who seeks defeat.

To be continued...