My sister is Luna

"Li Bai, let's fight three hundred more rounds!"

Miyamoto Musashi finally leaped out of the smoke, wielding two swords and shouting with fierce fighting spirit.

But there was no one in sight, only the empty streets in the dark night. The desolate scene contrasted sharply with the burning fighting spirit in his heart.

"Hey, where did he go? He's nowhere to be seen!" Miyamoto Musashi looked around, puzzled.

Suddenly, a huge explosion rang out, instantly shattering the silence of Chang'an and making it "lively".

"What happened? What's going on?!"

"Fire! Help!"

"Waaah... Daddy, Mommy, where are you? I'm so scared."

"Watch out, the house is going to collapse!"

"Quickly report to the authorities! There have been attacks by thugs!"

The constant noise disturbed him and made him feel agitated.

"I will definitely not let him get away again next time."

Miyamoto Musashi said dejectedly, his voice filled with resentment. Having lost his target, he could only helplessly sheath his sword. The burning fighting spirit in his heart had nowhere to be vented, and that uncomfortable feeling made him feel like he had a fishbone stuck in his throat.

"It seems I'll have to search slowly. I finally found a decent opponent..." Miyamoto Musashi said as he decided to look for Li Bai.

However, he forgot that he was a complete directional disaster.

Even Chang'an City was enormous, with interconnected streets and a complex layout. Adding to this the extraordinary event of Chang'an City transforming into an ark rising and falling tonight, the level of chaos escalated to another level.

By dawn, Miyamoto Musashi hadn't even finished searching most of Chang'an; he was either lost or on his way to getting lost.

Seeing the same scene repeating itself before his eyes once again, Miyamoto Musashi couldn't help but sigh in despair.

To date, his life seems to consist only of kendo. Except for his childhood before the age of ten, when he was just an ordinary child, his memories after that are filled with nothing but swords.

He swung his sword, swung his sword, day after day. To others, this might seem tedious, but he didn't feel that way at all; on the contrary, he enjoyed it.

Immersed in the sweat and fatigue of wielding a sword, immersed in the satisfaction and joy of defeating opponents time and time again and becoming stronger, greedily filling the emptiness in one's heart.

It was precisely because of his diligent training that he achieved what he has today. He not only broke through the swordsmanship his original master taught him, but also created his own school at a young age, possessing the unique skill Niten Ichi-ryu. Moreover, he was invincible in Japan and came all the way to Chang'an to find a worthy opponent.

However, it is precisely because of his dedication to swordsmanship that Miyamoto Musashi cares about no one except his opponents. He can communicate with people, but to him, ordinary people are all worthless opponents, all the same, and there is no point in distinguishing them. The venue and scenery are the same; they are just support or arena for standing. He only needs to step on them to exert force. Perhaps this is why he is terrible with directions.

Just like houses, both are houses, but a house is beautiful and a house is ugly. Similarly, people are people, but a good person is a person and a bad person is a person, a beautiful person is a person and an ugly person is a person. This strange attitude coldly categorizes similar and complex things into one big category, ignoring the differences between them, except for one special person.

He longed to keep wielding his sword, to keep defeating his opponents, to keep reaching ever greater heights, and then his life would vanish on the way to the next peak. Miyamoto Musashi seemed to have defined his life in this way.

Especially after his near-death experience during that trip to the abyss, his snow-white hair served as a constant reminder and strengthened his desire to become stronger and take on more challenges.

Having embarked on the path of kendo, I suppose my destiny was already set in stone.

But what led me to the path of kendo?

Miyamoto Musashi was suddenly confused. He seemed to have forgotten why he had started taking up the sword. Those initial memories seemed to have been buried by the dust of time, making them difficult for him to find.

“Great warrior, you seem to have lost your way.” An elegant voice reached Miyamoto Musashi’s ears.

Miyamoto Musashi raised his head and realized that he had already left Chang'an City. Outside the Vermilion Bird Gate was a field, and in front of him was a person dressed as a white-robed sorcerer.

"That's right. Could you show me the way?" Miyamoto Musashi nodded, a hint of expectation in his eyes.

"I cannot point you in the right direction," the white-robed sorcerer said regretfully, shaking his head.

"Why?" Miyamoto Musashi asked, puzzled. He wondered if the person in front of him was also directionally challenged.

"Because your heart is lost, and you have to figure it out for yourself. I can't help you. The only thing I can do is help you feel it better. You can use your feelings to guide your heart to find its way."

"You're bored, lonely, and empty. Weak people can't satisfy you at all. You yearn to find the path to the summit, but you can't see it clearly."

The white-haired sorcerer spoke softly, his words lingering in Miyamoto Musashi's ears.

“That’s exactly how I feel right now.” Miyamoto Musashi’s eyes shone, as if he had seen a glimmer of light in the darkness.

"How about coming with me? I'll take you to find a powerful opponent, and you'll help me deal with the obstacles."

Is your obstacle the strong?

"of course."

"Okay, I promise you!"

……

"Phew, the current mission is complete. That white-haired swordsman named Cain was too terrifying. Luckily, I had a backup plan."

He recalled the shocking scene from before and murmured to himself:

"The core of the Ark, I wonder how the gods will spread its glory after obtaining it?"

"But how can I break the seal? I can't understand those strange runes." Marco Polo said with a troubled expression, his brows furrowed and his face full of worry.

"Are we waiting for them to find the key or break the seal, so we can repeat the 'mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind' scenario?"

"Or is there some other way?"

"Father……"

On the afternoon of the third day, Marco Polo "met" Ming Shiyin outside Chang'an.

"Greetings, envoy from the West," Ming Shiyin said with a smile.

"Oh, so you're the God's informant in the East?" Marco Polo recalled the portrait of Ming Shiyin that the governor had shown him and looked the man up and down.

“Yes, you’re doing very well, aren’t you?” Ming Shiyin nodded.

"Uh, it's alright." Marco Polo pursed his lips.

"So what are your plans for the future?" Ming Shiyin smiled slightly.

"I don't know," Marco Polo said, scratching his head. He was actually quite confused himself.

“How about cooperating with me? We are both believers of the gods, let’s offer the Ark Core to the gods together.” Ming Shiyin’s eyes flashed, and he said sincerely.

"To be honest, I have studied ancient books, which should be helpful for the instructions you don't understand. I'm sure I'll find clues soon and bring the great deity back to the world more quickly."

“Alright, that’s fine, but I must have the right to move freely,” Marco Polo said after a moment’s hesitation.

"of course."

……