WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Asakusa

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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈

Chapter 26: Even If They Call Me Heretical (1)

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“Deputy Leader, what is it?”

As soon as Gwak Myeong-ho pulled Cheon Hwi away with a hearty laugh, one of Han So-gyeom's subordinates approached and asked.

Han So-gyeom smacked his lips as he recalled the moment he had lowered his eyes and examined Cheon Hwi's aura.

‘Was I mistaken?’

It was not difficult for one martial artist to sense another's aura at close range. Any martial artist with sufficient experience, stature, and cultivation could intuitively tell, much as one could distinguish a hunting dog raised by people from a wild dog that had grown up running through fields and paddies.

Han So-gyeom wondered if he had simply misread Cheon Hwi's aura.

The reason was simple.

‘All three impossible kinds of qi were present.’

He had never met a martial artist like that in his life.

Righteous qi, wicked qi, and demonic qi. All three were present at once.

The aura of a martial artist who walked the righteous path was solid, stable, and unwavering. Though each martial artist described it differently, most called it pure.

Considering Cheon Hwi's clothing and background, Han So-gyeom could not conclude that he had learned the inner cultivation method of a renowned orthodox sect. Yet the inner qi at his foundation was strangely stable.

No, if anything, that was closest to the main current of Cheon Hwi's aura.

Amid that pure aura was another energy that did not mingle with it, like water and oil. It was likely the raw scent, impossible to erase, born of the way he had lived. A faint but tenacious sharpness toward life, close to wicked qi.

It was like the killing intent that inevitably revealed itself in those who built their martial arts through real combat.

Light and sharp, it possessed an edge that could irritate someone through aura alone, or even seem capable of cutting them.

And the deeper he probed into those two energies, the more strongly he sensed demonic qi. Its source was clearly the middle dantian. In fact, only demonic qi had accumulated there.

‘At that age, he could not have opened his middle dantian and be wielding mind qi.’

What was the middle dantian? It was the realm of the heart, akin to the soul and the energy etched into one's inner image.

In other words, it was the sort of energy that could only reside within a martial artist who had trained and wandered the Martial World for over a decade.

Yet this ineradicable energy resembled what might emanate from someone who had returned from death's threshold. It was not quite inner energy, but something closer to demonic intent.

‘If it is the Death-Gate Soul-Refining Art...’

Han So-gyeom's eyes narrowed.

The Death-Gate Soul-Refining Art.

If it was that legendary art, then it made sense that all three types of qi could be felt from Cheon Hwi at once.

A legendary martial art said to temper the soul the closer one came to death, drawing enlightenment from the threshold between life and death.

Of course, most tales circulating through the Martial World were nothing but exaggeration. When people came close to death, they died rather than gained enlightenment.

Yet someone driven to death's door, who clung even to a straw and endured before returning, was bound to grow no matter how untalented they were.

If it was not a mistake, then he possessed the qualities his superiors had recently been seeking.

“Cheon Hwi. Remember that one well.”

“Yes, Deputy Leader.”

After a moment's thought, Han So-gyeom continued.

“And inform the Murong Clan leadership. Tell them to expand the selection test for Outer Hall warriors to be placed at the subjugation force's vanguard beyond the original plan. There is no need to spill the precious blood of the clan's swordsmen on Black Path rabble.”

Outwardly, Han So-gyeom feigned concern for the clan's welfare, but his gaze stubbornly followed the back of Cheon Hwi beneath his worn bamboo hat.

* * *

An inn in Shenyang City.

Gwak Myeong-ho let out a deep sigh as they faced Cheon Hwi, who had changed out of his rain-soaked clothes and entered the room.

“Bring some light food and a bottle of Bamboo Leaf Liquor!”

After calling out their order, Gwak Myeong-ho clicked their tongue.

“I thought something terrible was going to happen, you brat. How could a young punk like you hold your head so high before those Guarding Martial Authority bastards without a shred of fear? If your head had come off, I wouldn't have been able to face Yi Mu-gwang after I died.”

“Would it really have come to that? Besides, I keep telling you Master is still alive.”

At Cheon Hwi's indifferent reply, Gwak Myeong-ho cleared their throat and rummaged through their robes.

“Who can stop your stubbornness? But if you intend to cross swords with martial artists of the Central Plains, that improvised swordsmanship of yours has its limits. You need to establish a foundation for your martial arts. You'll be taking the subjugation force's qualification test.”

Gwak Myeong-ho tossed an old, faded booklet onto the table.

[Azure Cloud Twelve Routes Staff]

It was a basic staff art manual learned by the escort guards of the Azure Cloud Escort Agency.

“This is about all I can give you without trouble. I tried to get you a sword manual, but I couldn't manage it. You may think staff arts are beneath you, but the principles of martial arts all lead to the same place in the end. Read it and rebuild your basics, at least.”

“Thank you.”

Cheon Hwi did not take his eyes off the manual even as he shoved mouthfuls of rice and stir-fried vegetables into his mouth.

Gwak Myeong-ho snickered at the sight and poured a drink.

Gwak Myeong-ho could understand why Yi Mu-gwang cherished Cheon Hwi.

Gwak Myeong-ho set a money pouch before Cheon Hwi. It was visibly heavy.

“Take it. I put in a little extra.”

“Thank you.”

“And visit the Cheorya Workshop. If you give them our escort agency's name, they'll look over your sword for a bit less.”

Gwak Myeong-ho stood and roughly rubbed the young man's head.

“Take your time eating before you get up.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes. If I stay any longer, I'll grow attached.”

“......”

“Let's meet again. If you need help, you know where to find me.”

Cheon Hwi nodded.

Then he rose and bowed.

Those who lived at the very bottom of the Martial World knew how frightening attachment could be in this line of work.

Cheon Hwi returned to his room, moved close beneath the oil lamp, and began turning the pages.

In truth, it was probably nothing special.

It was not even sword arts, but staff arts. Still, Cheon Hwi was not disappointed. Instead, he greedily devoured the manual.

A sweetness spread across his tongue as he read. His hair stood on end, goosebumps ran along his spine, and his heart pounded so hard that it became difficult to maintain the Well-Returning Moving Art while reading.

The moment he turned the first page and read several illustrations and mnemonic formulas, a strange spark of enlightenment flared from deep within his dantian.

‘Staff arts do not cut people.’

A saber cut away flesh and split it. A sword thrust, cut, and carved.

But staff arts were different.

A staff pushed, pressed, blocked, deflected, entangled, and bound.

‘Staff arts... are the art of guarding and occupying space.’

Was that why that chief escort had learned staff arts, to protect what they had to protect?

Cheon Hwi's comprehension was sharp enough to infer why someone had chosen a particular weapon from a single martial arts manual.

Holding an imaginary staff in his mind, his limbs moved along with the flow and principles of the manual.

Soon, Cheon Hwi rose and began swinging the staff he did not hold. Since his purpose was not to learn staff arts, whether he actually held a staff was of no importance.

The only thing that mattered was reaching the principles of martial arts.

Cheon Hwi reached toward that fleeting enlightenment sparkling like a star before him.

As befitted an escort agency's martial arts, it was practical.

How to fight with a cargo cart at one's back. How to block a narrow passage. How to shatter the knee of the first opponent to charge in when facing several enemies, then block the path of those following behind.

Martial arts for guarding and enduring.

‘Could I not do this with a sword?’

Could he press with the back of the sword, cut off a route with its tip, ride the blade's flat to push or deflect an opponent's weapon, and bind their sword path with a twist of the wrist?

Cheon Hwi's inner image sank into darkness.

The old oil lamp in the inn room faded away, and in its place, a vision of Gwak Do-mun appeared, his cold-blue flexible sword hanging loosely at his side.

A red robe. A thin, long flexible sword. Narrowed eyes that made it impossible to tell whether he was smiling or even had his eyes open.

The Gwak Do-mun in the vision stepped with the Serpent-Shadow Step and thrust his flexible sword toward Cheon Hwi's throat.

It was an attack his existing swift sword arts could not block. Before he poorly imitated the Serpent-Shadow Step and slipped away at great speed, he died dozens of times to that simple strike.

‘But if I apply the principles of this staff art now, occupy the space first, and block the path...’

With his eyes closed, Cheon Hwi gripped his old sword in the real inn room and slightly turned his wrist.

It was like the sensation of cutting off a route that he had gained from staff arts.

Toward a point one handspan before the path of Gwak Do-mun's first stepping foot, Cheon Hwi's toe drove in as his sword lashed down.

‘Three Powers Swift Sword Forms, First Form: Earth Severance.’

It cut the earth.

A swift sword form that cut off the opponent's toes and center of gravity, killing the path of the technique before their sword could emerge.

Swoosh!

As the flexible sword in the vision faltered, Gwak Do-mun twisted his sword and targeted Cheon Hwi's waist again.

The terrible moment of Yi Mu-gwang's death, when he threw himself forward to seize the flexible sword, overlapped with the present.

‘I will not allow that again.’

Never again could Cheon Hwi fail to block or evade, forcing his master to block the sword path with his body.

Whoosh! Rustle!

Following the principle of Earth Severance, Cheon Hwi created a first form that could be called a defensive art. It was a form broad enough to encompass the flexibility that could branch out from it.

Cheon Hwi's body collided with the vision as he continuously trained the Well-Returning Moving Art.

The room was narrow. He could not swing his sword freely.

But that was better for Cheon Hwi. The less room he had to move his sword, the fewer wasted movements there were.

His stomach was cut open once more in the vision, and blood poured out. Perhaps because he had died so many times, even the pain of dying in the vision felt clear enough to be phantom pain.

After repeating it dozens of times, Cheon Hwi grasped the principle of blocking space.

‘It worked...’

In the vision, Gwak Do-mun looked startled that his sword had been blocked and took half a step back.

It was the moment one of the Three Powers Swift Sword Forms' defensive forms was carved into him.

As if refusing to allow that opening, Gwak Do-mun's flexible sword, which had retreated half a step, rushed in at once.

That single realization sparked like lightning, leading in succession to enlightenment regarding the second and third forms.

Three Powers Swift Sword Forms, Second Form: Person Binding.

Rather than forcibly blocking the opponent's sword path, it read the flow, followed it, and blocked it ahead of time.

If he could not read the flow in the first death, he only needed to read it in the second or third.

A second form that robbed the opponent of freedom by placing his weight upon the blade for an instant.

Because it was a form that controlled space, it did not matter whether the opponent attacked with a staff, sword, spear, saber, or any other weapon.

Having reached an understanding of the second form in an instant, Cheon Hwi suddenly realized something.

He had severed the earth to restrict the opponent, then used that restricted ground to bind the person.

What, then, should the third form that followed be?

‘There is no distinction between offensive and defensive forms in martial arts. I think I understand why.’

The unity of offense and defense.

‘So that is why.’

A good martial arts manual made an attack into a defense naturally, and a defense into an attack naturally.

And once one could move freely between those forms, there was no reason for them to be divided into offense and defense in the first place.

Thus, Cheon Hwi naturally understood what third form he needed to complete.

There was one success among dozens of feints and visions, when he finally stabbed Gwak Do-mun shallowly in the shoulder.

‘If I use this earlier enlightenment to force the enemy's footwork and movement technique, draw out their swordsmanship, then activate the swift sword form first in the single space I have claimed...’

The success rate and precision of that thrust would become extraordinarily high.

He felt certain that he could strike a vital point instead of a shoulder.

Following First Form Earth Severance and Second Form Person Binding, Cheon Hwi poured all the inner qi in his dantian into his sword tip within that limited space.

Three Powers Swift Sword Forms, Third Form: Heaven Piercing.

A form that found the one true path to survival among dozens of feints and visions, then compressed all killing intent into a thrust.

Three forms were carved into Cheon Hwi's martial arts, which until then had possessed no forms and had merely been called the Three Powers Swift Sword Forms.

Earth Severance, Person Binding, Heaven Piercing.

Cheon Hwi's Three Powers did not descend from heaven to earth.

It severed the earth, bound the person, and finally pierced heaven.

It was a sword that traveled from earth, through humanity, and reached heaven.

Those three forms blended together again as he faced Gwak Do-mun in the vision.

Gwak Do-mun's shoulder was pierced by Heaven Piercing as before, but the wound was slightly deeper than before. Previously, the sword tip had barely touched him. Now, Cheon Hwi could feel through his wrist that the blade had pierced in more solidly.

Cheon Hwi withdrew his sword and looked at Gwak Do-mun.

Unlike before, blood clung thickly to the sword tip and dripped down.

As though Cheon Hwi were asking something, Gwak Do-mun in the vision merely snickered and shrugged.

As if to say Cheon Hwi still had a long way to go.

Or perhaps that he was deeply surprised.

Gwak Do-mun's vision scattered and vanished.

Only then did Cheon Hwi realize that sweat covered his entire body. He was not even sure how many hours he had been at this.

Gwak Do-mun's sword in his memories was still fast, still filthy, and undeniably beautiful.

‘Strength. Even when it belongs to an enemy, it is beautiful.’

After regulating his breath and completing a round of breathing meditation to internalize his enlightenment once again, Cheon Hwi rose and closed the book.

* * *

The next morning, at the training ground of an outer residence of the Murong Clan.

“Next! Cheon Hwi! Enter and wait!”

Cheon Hwi stepped into the subjugation force's selection test grounds.

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