Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword Maniac

My Master Is a Fraud, and the Beauty Next Door Is Trouble!

The next morning, Alexander discovered three unfortunate truths. First, the Azure Sky Sword Sect was far more expensive than he remembered. Second, his master was an unreasonable old man. Third, the sect’s breakfast was terrible.

Alexander sat at a wooden table outside his courtyard, staring at a bowl of porridge. He picked up his spoon, stirred the porridge, stared at it again, then sighed. “Is this food or a failed alchemy experiment?”

A voice answered from above. “If you don’t want it, give it to me!”

Alexander looked up. A young man was hanging over the courtyard wall—messy brown hair, a handsome face, and an expression that suggested he had never experienced a moment of embarrassment in his life. Alexander recognized him immediately. Ethan Valerian. The proud young master who had challenged him yesterday.

Alexander pointed at him with his spoon. “Why are you climbing my wall?”

Ethan jumped down. “I wanted to see how the Sect Master’s personal disciple lives.”

“You could have knocked.”

“That would have been boring.”

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough.”

Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down, then looked at the bowl. “What are you eating?”

“Breakfast.”

Ethan stared at the porridge. “That looks disgusting.”

Alexander pushed the bowl toward him. “Eat it.”

“Why?”

“Because you said you wanted it.”

“I didn’t say I wanted the whole thing!”

Alexander folded his arms. “Then stop wasting my time.”

Ethan stared at him. After several seconds, he pushed the bowl back. “You’re a terrible host.”

“And you’re a terrible guest.”

Ethan grinned. “Good. I knew we’d get along.”

Alexander looked at him with genuine concern. *Is everyone in this generation insane?*

In his previous life, Ethan Valerian had become a powerful sword cultivator and one of Alexander’s closest companions. He had also become notorious for losing bets, gambling away his spirit stones, and borrowing money from people who were stronger than him. Alexander had once watched Ethan challenge a Heavenly Emperor to a drinking contest. Ethan had lost. The Heavenly Emperor had subsequently banned alcohol from his palace. It had taken Alexander several decades to stop laughing about that incident.

Unfortunately, the young Ethan sitting in front of him hadn’t developed even a fraction of his future wisdom. Which meant he was currently more dangerous to Alexander’s peace of mind than any assassin.

“So,” Ethan said, leaning forward, “how did you do it?”

Alexander took another bite of porridge. “Do what?”

“Yesterday. The monument.”

“I touched it.”

“Don’t play dumb!”

“I’m not playing.”

Ethan leaned closer. “How did you obtain the Supreme Sword Heart?”

Alexander considered the question. “Practice.”

Ethan stared at him. “That’s it?”

“Would you prefer a more complicated answer?”

“Yes!”

Alexander nodded. “Very well. I made a deal with an ancient sword spirit, sacrificed ten thousand years of my lifespan, and exchanged my soul for the ability to understand every sword technique in existence.”

Ethan’s expression changed. “Really?”

“No.”

Ethan slammed his hands on the table. “Then why did you say it?!”

“You asked for a complicated answer.”

Ethan opened his mouth, closed it, then pointed at Alexander. “I’ve decided something.”

Alexander continued eating. “Congratulations.”

“I’m going to defeat you.”

“Good luck.”

“I mean it!”

“I believe you.”

Ethan frowned. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

Alexander looked at him. “Ethan, you’re a talented cultivator from the Valerian Clan. You’re currently at Meridian Opening Level Seven, and you have considerable room for improvement.”

Ethan straightened proudly. “Exactly!”

Alexander continued. “Your footwork is unstable, your sword grip is too tight, your shoulders reveal your attacks, and you waste spiritual energy whenever you get angry.”

Ethan’s smile disappeared.

Alexander took another spoonful of porridge. “Also, you tend to lean forward when attacking. Someone with decent timing could make you fall on your face.”

Silence. Ethan stared at him. “…How do you know all that?”

Alexander shrugged. “You told me with your sword yesterday.”

“I barely fought you yesterday!”

“Your sword was very talkative.”

Ethan slowly stood and drew his sword. Alexander looked up. “Are you going to attack me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to practice.”

Ethan walked into the training area. He assumed the stance Alexander had described, adjusted his grip, straightened his shoulders, then performed a sword thrust. The movement was noticeably smoother. Ethan froze. He performed it again. Then a third time. His eyes widened. It really was better.

Alexander watched him from the table. “Your left foot is still too far forward.”

Ethan immediately adjusted it. The next thrust became even smoother. He stared at his sword, then at Alexander. “How did you learn to teach like that?”

Alexander looked at his porridge. “Experience.”

Three hundred years of experience, to be precise.

Ethan suddenly rushed over and grabbed his shoulders. “Teach me!”

Alexander nearly dropped his spoon. “Get your hands off me!”

“Teach me swordsmanship!”

“No.”

“I’ll pay you!”

Alexander stopped. Ethan noticed the change immediately. “How much?”

Alexander considered his current financial situation. Two thousand low-grade spirit stones. It sounded like a lot. Unfortunately, cultivation resources were expensive, and his Origin Sword Seed would require increasingly rare materials. He looked at Ethan. “How much do you have?”

Ethan smiled proudly. “Three thousand spirit stones.”

Alexander immediately stood. “Sit down, disciple.”

Ethan blinked. “What?”

Alexander pointed toward the training area. “First lesson. Stop wasting your talent.”

Ethan’s expression became complicated. “Wait. You agreed too quickly.”

Alexander patted his shoulder. “Friendship is important.”

“You just called me a disciple!”

“Friendship between master and disciple is even more important.”

“You’re not my master!”

Alexander smiled. “Then I suppose the lesson costs extra.”

Ethan immediately grabbed his sleeve. “MASTER!”

Alexander nodded. “Excellent. You’re learning quickly.”

---

An hour later, Ethan was lying face-down on the training ground. His sword lay several meters away. His arms trembled. His legs felt as though someone had replaced his bones with noodles.

Alexander stood beside him, holding a wooden sword. “Get up.”

Ethan groaned. “I can’t.”

“Then crawl.”

“I hate you.”

“Good. Hatred can be a powerful source of motivation.”

Ethan slowly raised his head. “Is that an actual cultivation principle?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because you looked motivated.”

Ethan collapsed again.

Alexander shook his head. Young cultivators these days were too fragile. Back in his previous life, his master had made him swing a sword until his arms stopped moving. Then the old man had tied stones to his wrists and ordered him to continue. Alexander had spent an entire year believing his master hated him. Eventually, he discovered that the old man had been trying to strengthen his physical foundation. It had worked.

Unfortunately, Arthur Black’s teaching methods were somehow even worse than those of Alexander’s first master. Which meant Alexander needed to be careful. He wasn’t going to repeat every mistake of his previous life—especially the mistakes that involved unnecessary suffering.

He looked at Ethan. “Ten more swings.”

Ethan groaned. “Why?”

“Because you stopped counting.”

“I counted to a hundred!”

“You counted to eighty-seven.”

Ethan stared at him. “How do you know?”

“Because I was counting.”

Ethan slowly got up, picked up his sword, and began swinging. Alexander watched carefully. Despite his foolish personality, Ethan was genuinely talented. His spiritual foundation was stable. His body was strong. And his sword comprehension wasn’t bad. He simply lacked proper guidance.

Alexander smiled faintly. *This time, you’ll reach the peak without wasting half your life on pointless detours.*

Then he remembered something. In his previous life, Ethan had become famous for a technique called the Ninefold Star Sword. It had eventually evolved into a divine sword art. But Ethan had never mastered its final form. He had died without understanding the final three strikes. Alexander had always wondered what would have happened if Ethan had received proper instruction earlier. Perhaps this time, he would find out.

“Enough,” Alexander said.

Ethan dropped his sword. “Finally!”

Alexander raised one finger. “Your second lesson begins tomorrow.”

Ethan’s face went pale. “Second lesson?”

“Yes.”

“How many lessons are there?”

Alexander thought about it. “Until you stop embarrassing yourself.”

Ethan looked toward the heavens. “Why have the gods abandoned me?”

Alexander patted his shoulder. “Perhaps you should improve your character.”

---

At noon, Alexander finally visited the Weapon Pavilion. It was one of the largest buildings in the Azure Sky Sword Sect. Rows of weapons filled the interior—swords, spears, sabers, halberds, daggers. Spiritual weapons were displayed behind protective formations, while ordinary weapons occupied the lower shelves.

Alexander walked past the first row, then the second, then the third. His expression became increasingly disappointed. “This is terrible.”

A nearby disciple turned. “What is?”

Alexander pointed at a sword. “The balance is wrong.” He pointed at another. “The blade is too heavy.” Then another. “The materials are mediocre.”

The disciple stared at him. “Those are all high-quality weapons!”

Alexander looked at him. “High-quality compared to what?”

The disciple had no answer.

Alexander continued walking. Finally, he stopped before a simple black sword displayed in the corner. It had no elaborate decorations. Its blade was slightly worn. The weapon appeared ordinary. But Alexander could feel something unusual inside it.

He reached for the hilt. A faint vibration traveled through his fingers. Thrum. His Origin Sword Seed responded. Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting.”

A middle-aged attendant approached. “Young Master, that sword is an old weapon with an unknown origin. We haven’t been able to identify its grade.”

“How much?”

The attendant hesitated. “Three hundred low-grade spirit stones.”

Alexander frowned. “Three hundred?”

“Yes.”

He examined the blade again. The sword contained a faint spiritual fluctuation—not strong enough to classify it as a proper spiritual weapon, but there was something buried inside its structure. Something that had survived despite the blade’s age.

Alexander smiled. “I’ll take it.”

The attendant looked surprised. “You don’t want to examine the other weapons?”

“No.”

“Are you certain?”

Alexander lifted the sword. The weapon felt comfortable in his hand. Its balance was excellent. The blade was neither too heavy nor too light. And more importantly… it had potential. “Yes.”

Alexander paid the attendant and left the pavilion with his new sword resting at his waist. For the first time since his reincarnation, he felt that he possessed a weapon worth carrying. He named it Blackstar—not because it was particularly powerful, but because it reminded him of the black sword he had carried during his previous life. That sword was gone. This one would have to do. For now.

---

On the way back, Alexander heard a familiar voice. “Alexander Blackwood.”

He turned. Elena Silverheart stood beneath a tree. She wore white robes embroidered with silver patterns, and her long silver hair moved gently in the breeze. She looked at the sword hanging from his waist. “Is that your new weapon?”

Alexander nodded. “Yes.”

“Why did you choose it?”

“Because I liked it.”

Elena stared at him. “That’s your entire reason?”

“Do I need another?”

She sighed. “You really are strange.”

“I’ve been told.”

Elena looked toward the Weapon Pavilion. “Many talented sword cultivators came here yesterday. Most of them chose weapons of at least the spiritual grade.”

Alexander looked at Blackstar. “Then they must have spent a lot of money.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Money is important.”

Elena seemed amused. “I thought someone with a Supreme Sword Heart would care more about swordsmanship than money.”

Alexander looked at her seriously. “Money buys swords.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

Alexander continued. “Good swords improve swordsmanship.”

Elena stared at him for several seconds. “You’re impossible.”

Alexander smiled. “And yet, you’re still talking to me.”

Elena’s cheeks warmed slightly. She immediately turned away. “I was only asking about your sword!”

“Of course.”

“Don’t misunderstand!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did!”

Alexander almost laughed. She was still the same. In his previous life, Elena had always been easy to embarrass whenever he said something unexpected. But she had also been the person who understood him best. For centuries, Alexander had remembered her final smile. Now she stood before him, alive and well, arguing over a sword.

He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to explain that he had already loved her once. That he had failed her. That he had spent hundreds of years regretting it. But he couldn’t. She was still young. They had only just met again. This time, Alexander would not force the future to follow his memories. He would let their relationship develop naturally.

Elena glanced at him. “Why are you staring at me?”

Alexander smiled softly. “Because I’m happy.”

She froze. “…What?”

“I’m happy that you’re here.”

Elena’s face turned red. She looked away so quickly that her silver hair swung over her shoulder. “Y-You’re really strange!” She hurried down the path.

Alexander watched her leave, then smiled. “Still cute.”

From behind the tree, a familiar voice whispered, “Interesting.”

Alexander’s expression immediately changed. He turned. Arthur Black stood behind the tree, holding his wine gourd. The old man grinned. “So, my disciple has already found himself a girl?”

Alexander stared at him. “Master, how long have you been standing there?”

Arthur stroked his beard. “Long enough.”

“Did you hear everything?”

“Of course.”

Alexander closed his eyes. “Can I change masters now?”

Arthur laughed. “Absolutely not!” Then he leaned closer. “Tell me, is she your type?”

Alexander looked at him. “Master.”

“What?”

“Have you ever considered retiring?”

Arthur blinked, then burst into laughter. “Hahaha! You little brat!” He slapped Alexander on the back. “Fine! I’ll leave you alone!”

Arthur turned to walk away, then stopped. “Oh, one more thing.”

Alexander sighed. “What now?”

Arthur’s expression became serious. “Someone from the Heavenly Phoenix Sect will arrive tomorrow.”

Alexander’s smile faded. The Heavenly Phoenix Sect. One of the strongest sects in the Northern Continent. A sect famous for its talented female cultivators, powerful elders, and ancient inheritance. In Alexander’s previous life, its arrival had marked the beginning of a major conflict involving several ancient clans. But that event shouldn’t have happened for another two years.

He looked at Arthur. “Why are they coming early?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Alexander’s expression darkened. Another change. Another event that didn’t match his memories.

Arthur watched him carefully. “You recognize the name?”

Alexander smiled faintly. “I’ve heard of them.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. For a moment, the old man’s gaze became sharp. Then he nodded. “Be careful tomorrow.” He walked away.

Alexander stood alone beneath the tree. His hand rested on Blackstar’s hilt. The future was changing faster than he had expected. The Celestial Court had moved early. The Blackwood attack had involved forces that shouldn’t have appeared yet. Now the Heavenly Phoenix Sect was arriving ahead of schedule.

Alexander looked toward the distant mountains. A faint smile appeared. “Fine.” He drew Blackstar. The blade reflected the afternoon sunlight. “Let’s see what kind of future you want to create.”

Far beyond the Azure Sky Sword Sect, inside a secluded chamber, a woman in crimson robes opened her eyes. A golden phoenix mark glowed faintly on her forehead. Beside her knelt a young woman with long silver hair.

The woman in crimson spoke calmly. “Have you found him?”

The silver-haired woman lowered her head. “Yes, Elder.”

“And?”

She hesitated. “The young man has awakened the Supreme Sword Heart.”

The crimson-robed woman’s expression changed. “His name?”

“Alexander Blackwood.”

Silence filled the chamber. Then the elder slowly stood. “Bring him to me.”

The young woman looked uncertain. “Should we invite him as a guest?”

The elder smiled. “No.” Her eyes glowed with golden light. “Tell him that the Heavenly Phoenix Sect has a marriage proposal for him.”