Ninth Sword Wheel

Pain. It was the first word he remembered. He didn't know at that time that the word did not grow from flesh and blood, but was peeled off from a bone that did not belong to him. Like rust, falling layer by layer into the yellow spring water, sinking without reaching the bottom. Later he realized that it was not pain. It was sixteen years of tempering, the breath of eight towers, seven generations of failure, passing through sixteen iron chains, and finally landed on his sword the moment he opened his eyes. ——"Ninth Sword Wheel·Prisoner Volume"