The Thread-Killer

Behold...an ornate temple in the mountains of China. The wind whispers through the bamboo leaves. A tall, decisive man in black suit enters the temple. An old man is sitting in a wicker chair. He has been waiting...
"So. You have returned."
"Yes."
"What do you require, my Thousand Sons? More tea?"
"You know I didn't come for tea, Old Master."
A rustling of robes.
"Mmmm. I suppose not. Do you truly know what you seek?"
"I've come for the Blade, old man."
"There are many blades in this world, why this one?"
"I am the Foe of Many Faces. This blade has many names, as do I."
"Some names you are worthy to say," says the old man. "Many you are not. Do you believe you are worthy to challenge me?"
The man in black shakes his head, sadly.
"Challenge? Old man, I have already bested you. You just dont know it yet."
The old man is enraged!
"Insolence!"
The old man leaps from his chair, unsheathing a sword!
"YAAAAAAAAH!"
The man in black effortlessly repels his attack. There is a look of detachment on his face.
cling!
cling!
tklang!
shring!
"Your wu-dan style is flawless!" shouts the old man. "Flawless! How is this possible?!
"I had an excellent teacher once. But I have surpassed even he."
A whip-snap of his wrist sends the old masters sword flying.
"ARRGH! It...it cannot be! Black Dragon Striking-Style! Impossible!"
"Nothing is impossible. Now give me what I came for."
The old man leads the man in black to a laquered chest.
"I knew this day would come one day. Of all my many students, I knew you alone were fated to wield the blade."
The chest opens revealing a sword wrapped in black silk.
"This blade carries a heavy burden, my son. Do you accept it?"
"I do. And I add another name to its honored lineage."
The old man gasps! "It has not borne a new name in many centuries!"
"It will now. I name it 'Thread-Killer!"
The blade shimmers slightly, accepting its new name.
"Fred, I'm coming for you now." he whispers.