Twenty years ago, a swordsman appeared in the martial world. Proud and unruly, he never did things by the book and called himself the "Wayward Wanderer." That year, he roamed the martial world with a sword named "Drunkenness," unleashing a storm of bloodshed.
Three years after his appearance, this man, admired by countless swordsmen, suddenly vanished from the martial world. Some said he had gone into seclusion to cultivate and break through to a new realm. Others said his swordsmanship was so peerless that it made too many people wary, so several top martial artists joined forces to attack him, and he died of exhaustion. Still others said his techniques were too strange, and that he had eventually succumbed to cultivation deviation, his meridians bursting apart. There was even an absurd rumor that he had become an immortal through his sword, escaped the cycle of reincarnation, and gained eternal life...
This is my first time writing a story. It's probably a sweet, Mary Sue-style romance, and my writing is at an elementary-school level. Please bear with it.
