In his final moments, Irelion Vance, the legendary Saint of Swords, watched his world burn.
The throne room of Heaven itself became his tomb. Around him lay the shattered bodies of the Seven Swordmaidens—the seven women who had followed him through a hundred battlefields, who had loved him with the devotion of stars orbiting the sun, who had died, one by one, protecting a man who could not protect them.
Aurelia, the Ice Maiden, whose frost had once turned back entire demon legions—dead, her frozen heart melted by betrayal fire.
Seraphine, the Lightning Sword, whose fury had split mountains—dead, her storm silenced by a poisoned blade.
Lyanna, the Wind Dancer, whose gentle healing had saved thousands—dead, sacrificed for civilians who would never know her name.
Ravenna, the Inferno, whose passion burned brighter than any flame—dead, extinguished by the trap he should have seen.
Celestia, the Holy Light, whose purity had been their beacon—dead, executed by the very Heaven they had served.
Nyx, the Shadow's Edge, whose silence had been their shield—dead, covering a retreat he had ordered.
Evangeline, the youngest, the Earth Mother, whose smile had kept him human—dead in his arms, whispering forgiveness he did not deserve.
The Demon King was defeated. The war was won. And Heaven, fearful of his power, of the loyalty he commanded, of the bond that had made them invincible—betrayed him. The Celestial Court branded him a traitor and condemned his swords as heretics. They died for loving him. He died for being too weak to save them.
But death was not the end.
It was the beginning.
Irelion's eyes opened to sunlight. Clean air. And a calendar that read forty-seven years earlier. He was young again. Weak again. A mere Mortal Realm cultivator at the bottom of the Azure Peak Sword Sect—the same sect that would one day rise to legend under his leadership, and fall to ruin through his failures.
This time, he knows every mistake he will make.This time, he knows every crisis before it strikes.This time, he knows exactly when and where each of his beloved swords will die.
But knowledge is not power—it is burden. The enemies are the same. The demonic invasions will still come. Heaven's conspiracy still lurks in shadow. And the seven young women who will become his Swordmaidens are strangers now—some enemies, some rivals, some not yet born.
Aurelia is a cold, arrogant prodigy who despises him. Seraphine is a hot-blooded wanderer seeking to challenge him to a death duel. Lyanna hasn't yet witnessed the massacre that will break her gentle heart. Ravenna is still consumed by vengeance that will lead her to darkness. Celestia is a naive temple maiden who still believes Heaven is just. Nyx is an assassin sent to kill him by the very organization he once destroyed. Evangeline is a child, years from the awakening that will make her the Earth Saint.
They don't remember him. They don't love him. They don't even know him.
But he remembers everything. Every laugh. Every tear. Every moment of joy before the tragedy. Every death he witnessed and could not prevent.
Armed with forty-seven years of future knowledge, master-level sword techniques sealed in a young body, and the desperate determination of a man who has already lost everything once—Irelion begins his second war.
Not against demons. Not against Heaven. But against fate itself.
He will rewrite their destinies.He will turn their tragedies into triumphs.He will forge them not into his swords, but into legends who wield their own blades.
And if Heaven stands in his way again?
Then this time, the Saint of Swords will not kneel.
This time, he will make the gods bleed.