When the Wind Rises, Swords Sing

[Fantasy, spirit beasts, one male lead, no System, revenge, passionate adventure] “Thirteen years of hatred ride the long wind; one stroke of the sword cuts through evil.”

Frost that could never melt settled between his brows. His slender figure stood tall and straight as an ancient pine. His plain robes could not conceal the crisp breeze that seemed to surround him. Only when old wrongs were brought up did bloody determination surge in his eyes, deep as a frozen pool.

For thirteen years, he honed his sword, wielding a broom as his blade and his heart as his shield. He mastered the wind’s fluidity and learned the truth of overcoming the strong with skill. When wind gathered into a blade at his fingertips, his movements were as swift and graceful as a startled swan sweeping across the sky. Every sword-shadow fell to avenge a blood feud.

His sword pointed toward injustice, where traitors held sway, and toward the crimes hidden beneath a facade of virtue. With a sword of steel riding the long wind, he braved a lifetime of snow and hardship to settle debts of gratitude and vengeance. He wielded the wind as his blade and revenge as his guide, riding the waves where good and evil clashed, seeking only to offer his enemies’ blood to the souls of his slaughtered family.