Perspective: The Clone – The Wandering Swordsman
His eyes opened.
Golden… and black.
The world poured in through new senses — and it was clearer, sharper, alive.
The air tasted clean.
The light was gentle but vibrant.
The wooden floor beneath him felt firm and familiar, though he had never stood upon it before.
And yet — somewhere deep inside, he knew this wasn't truly his body.
A fragment of consciousness sat behind his own, silent, watching — commanding.
I am… a clone. Born not to live, but to serve. To walk… and be seen.
He tilted his head slightly as a stream of numbers flashed across his vision.
[Status – Clone 01: The Wandering Swordsman]
Level: 1
Class: Unawakened
Race: Ascended Human (Empty Vessel)
Core Traits:
Heart of the Eternal Duelist (Divine) Stellar Stillness Eyes Flowing Qi Veins Instinct Carve Sword Vein Imprint
Stats:
STR: 15
AGI: 18
VIT: 16
INT: 9
SPR: 12
LCK: 11
"A normal human is level 1 with stats around 5…"
"This… is what it feels like to stand above men."
He flexed his fingers. His grip was steady. Power coiled in his limbs, not explosive, but restrained — like a spring not yet released.
Every heartbeat was like the strike of a war drum.
Every breath—calm, deep, controlled.
Then, a quiet voice echoed inside his mind.
[Genesis Command: POV Sync – Master Online.]
He smiled faintly.
The Creator watches. As he should.
He turned toward the door.
Wooden hinges groaned as he stepped outside for the first time.
The morning air kissed his face.
The scent of grass, smoke, bread, and iron mixed in the wind.
Somewhere nearby, a bell rang. A street vendor shouted. Dogs barked. Life… was everywhere.
The town was small but alive — stone paths, clay-roofed buildings, and a modest temple stood at the center of it all like a spine.
And into this world… he walked.
His feet were bare. The dust clung to his skin, yet it did not bother him.
His robes were tattered. Old, faded fabric fluttered behind him.
He looked like a beggar, perhaps an outcast.
And yet — as he stepped through the narrow alleys and open streets — people noticed.
Not out of fear.
Not out of sympathy.
But confusion. Awe. Unease.
A child stared at his white hair and whispered to her mother,
"Mama, that man… why does he look like a ghost?"
A merchant paused in mid-haggle, narrowing his eyes.
An adventurer nearby gripped his sword slightly tighter without realizing it.
It wasn't just the appearance.
It was the aura.
The AI inside him — learning by the second — had already begun imitating a philosopher-warrior archetype:
Silent. Unshaken. Weathered.
The type of man who had seen the world fall apart… and returned to walking barefoot, not because he lacked shoes — but because he no longer needed them.
He walked slowly. Each step was soft, yet confident.
He did not look around wildly or react to stares.
Instead, he looked at the sky.
As if it held all the answers.
As if the ground was already too boring.
A young woman selling apples blinked.
"...Who is that?"
"He looks like a beggar."
"No, idiot. That aura… it's like something out of a painting."
From within the system chamber far away, the real MC watched through his eyes.
He could feel it.
The heartbeat.
The wind.
The people's stares.
The strength in his legs.
The way every muscle in this clone was like a blade sheathed in flesh.
So this… is what true potential feels like.
My real body could barely walk.
But here… I could tear through men like paper.
Suddenly—
[AI Protocol Progression: 7% → 12%]
[Behavior Simulation Refinement: "Wandering Sage Archetype"]
[Speech Delay Integration: Calm-Wise Pattern Added]
[Movement: +Fluidity | +Philosophical Aura Presence]
The clone reached a quiet fountain at the center of town.
He sat at its edge, legs folded, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed.
The town passed by him — like wind over still water.
A group of adventurers walked past and looked back multiple times.
One of them muttered under his breath,
"That guy's not normal. I felt something when we passed him…"
"Yeah. Like he was about to draw a sword… even though I didn't see one."
"He's not just wandering. He's waiting."
Inside the clone's mind, he smiled.
Let the world misunderstand me.
Let them wonder.
A single sword clone is all it takes to plant a seed of fear.
And this is only the beginning.