Everyone has memories theyâd rather not recall. Martial artists are no different.
After all, martial artists are human too.
Whether theyâre grandmasters of unparalleled skill or novices still fumbling through the basics, they all harbor memories they wish they could erase. Memories theyâd turn back time to undo, or ones that make their blood run cold just by thinking about them.
I was no exception.
In fact, Iâd argue that my case was worse than anyone elseâs.
For me, merely erasing the memory wasnât enough. I wanted to shred it into tiny pieces, burn it to ashes, and scatter it until it disappeared forever.
I wanted to bury it so deeply that it would never resurface, sinking into oblivion for all eternity.
Yet, the more I tried, the tighter the memory gripped me. My foolish mind, capable of forgetting so many other things, clung to this with an unrelenting tenacity.
Perhaps, in some twisted way, this was my burdenâmy karma.
A cruel decree that I must never forget, that I must carry this memory with me until the very end.
The memory I couldnât forget became my curse. A shackle that would bind me for a lifetime, tightening its hold with every step I took.
And as fate would have itâ
âLook at those damned eyes.â
That wretched shackle stood before me now, exactly as it had been back then.
***************
The tattered, worn black martial robes were more than just oldâthey were a disgrace. I wrinkled my nose at the sight.
âFor godâs sake, could you wash your clothes, you bastard? The stench of blood is overwhelming.â
The scent of blood emanated heavily from the robes, so concentrated it made me gag.
Had I ever worn something like that?
Probably not. As reckless as Iâd been, I wouldâve at least washed something so filthyâ¦
ââ¦Or maybe not.â
Denying the thought, I suddenly remembered a time during the war with the Kunlun Sect. Back then, Iâd killed so many people that the blood pooled beneath me, and my clothes were drenched.
If it were during that time, perhaps I really did look like this.
In that context, it all made sense.
âWhat a mess.â
His eyes glared at the world with such anger, as if it had wronged him deeply. A gaze wild and full of malice, paired with an aura of unrestrained demonic energy that he didnât even try to conceal.
Fatherâ¦