WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Asakusa
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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈
Chapter 36: I Became a Rising Star Obsessed Over by Prestigious Clans (4)
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Cheon Hwi bit his lip as he saw Murong Rin and her two guards racing after him.
Repeating the assault up to this point was not a problem, but...
“Don't follow me.”
“Why?!”
He could not bring himself to tell her that if she followed him, he would surely die.
Cheon Hwi merely gave Murong Rin a once-over. Murong Rin did the same, then abruptly threw herself into the opposite corridor.
“W-what is with him?!”
Murong Rin stared in surprise as Cheon Hwi changed direction and ran off the other way.
Cheon Hwi had his reasons.
He had only one goal now: find Gwak Do-mun as quickly as possible. If he wandered around in here for too long, the point he returned to might become inconveniently tangled. He wanted to face Gwak Do-mun as soon as possible.
Murong Rin and her two guards were proving quite an obstacle in that effort.
‘That bitch... no, that person is so obsessed with becoming clan head, with earning martial merit, that she's lost her mind.’
Cheon Hwi knew his own limits. He had no particular intention of helping her, nor did he plan to try.
She was the woman called the young clan head. She had the grand epithet Golden Jade Flower, and two guards assigned to her. At this point, he assumed she could survive on her own.
And Murong Rin truly was strong.
The problem was that, like many second-rate martial artists, she was strong in an awkward, in-between way.
Her two swords flowed simultaneously. The sword in her left hand knocked away an opponent's weapon, and the instant it did, the sword in her right hand slashed through the opening. It was Cheon Hwi's first time seeing someone fight with weapons in both hands, and it became a valuable lesson for him.
True to its name, the Flying Swallow Twin-Stream Sword sliced through the Black Path martial artists' necks and arms as smoothly as two swallows crossing in flight.
Even Cheon Hwi could not guess how many times he would have to die if he fought her in a life-and-death duel.
Even when three opponents radiating formidable qi rushed her, they could not so much as touch her sleeves.
Of course, mere third-rate Black Path trash was no match for her.
The problem came after that.
Those third-rate Black Path bastards had not been honestly blocking the way from the front.
There was a room at the end of the corridor.
Its door was half open, and inside, Cheon Hwi could glimpse only a bloodstained table and several empty liquor bottles scattered about.
But experience had taught him that he must not open that door. If he did at this moment, he would encounter a first-rate expert fleeing through the other side and die.
“Don't open it. There's a first-rate martial artist inside...”
Bang!
Cheon Hwi squeezed his eyes shut and ran toward another room, another corridor. He did not know what happened to her afterward.
She must have died.
So, after a while, Cheon Hwi tried running into another corridor so he would not have to concern himself with her at all. He did it both to find Gwak Do-mun and to explore the possibilities of another future.
But before long, Cheon Hwi died as well, only to return with Murong Rin trailing behind him once more.
This time, Cheon Hwi ran toward the corridor whose end he had never seen because he had died before reaching it. Even speaking to Murong Rin felt like a waste of time, so he rushed in at once.
Murong Rin followed him again.
‘Why does she keep following me?’
Murong Rin did not realize it herself, but she was clearly following Cheon Hwi.
In fact, it was not just Murong Rin. The other martial artists were unconsciously following behind Cheon Hwi as well.
At a desperate moment when their lives hung in the balance, they instinctively sensed whom they needed to follow to survive.
It was human instinct.
Cheon Hwi was certainly not the Vanguard Unit's commander, yet anyone could see that he was leading the battlefield like one.
Unlike the third-rate riffraff guarding the pavilion's outer perimeter, the Black Path scoundrels stationed inside were distinctly different in both skill and qi.
At the very least, they were mid to late third-rate.
Someone might scoff and ask what difference there could possibly be between early, mid, and late stages among mere third-rate martial artists. But Cheon Hwi, who had spent a long time rolling around at the bottom, knew.
There might be no realm where differences in cultivation and practical combat ability were as vast as those among third-rate and second-rate martial artists.
The gap between early and late third-rate might even be greater than the gap between late second-rate and early first-rate.
When Cheon Hwi, who had been advancing through the corridor without hesitation, slowed down, those following him looked puzzled.
There were people lying in ambush, concealing their presence and holding their breath.
The wall looked like ordinary wood, but there was empty space behind it, where people were waiting to thrust their spears and swords through.
Ta-at!
Cheon Hwi, who had been gradually suppressing his presence, abruptly stopped and thrust his sword like lightning into the ordinary wooden wall to his right.
Crash!
The sound of wood breaking and the blade sinking in was followed by the sound of flesh being pierced.
Crunch! Stab!
“Kurgh!”
A beastlike dying scream erupted from beyond the wall.
Cheon Hwi had pierced straight through the heart of a Black Path martial artist hiding behind a thin board painted the same color as the wall, waiting to launch a surprise attack.
Murong Rin's guards flinched and raised their swords.
At once, those hidden behind the wall burst out and attacked.
Their concealment had been perfect enough that not even their qi could be sensed. How had he known?
Even as they fought the Black Path wanderers who had smashed through the wall, the martial artists following Cheon Hwi could not help but be shocked.
‘How did he know?!’
Their eyes flashed, more startled by Cheon Hwi's senses than by the Black Path group that had burst from the wall. They could not believe that someone of a lower realm than them had more developed senses.
Cheon Hwi pulled out his sword, shook the blood from it, and headed forward without even a sideways glance.
He left them to Murong Rin and the others following behind, then ran deeper inside alone.
After repeating dozens of regressions and breakthroughs, Cheon Hwi finally climbed the pavilion stairs and found the room where Gwak Do-mun was located.
The man had not fled. He was simply standing there, holding his position.
But before Cheon Hwi could even cross swords with Gwak Do-mun, he fell dead, unable to get past the two guards protecting the room.
‘Two guards.’
Cheon Hwi wondered whether he would have no choice but to use Murong Rin and the Murong Clan guards.
.
.
.
“Hah.”
Cheon Hwi roughly wiped away the cold sweat running down his forehead.
‘It isn't easy just to see your face once, Gwak Do-mun.’
After several dozen regressions, it became truly maddening.
He died, died, and died again.
‘How many times will I have to die before I can get out of Black Fang Stronghold?’
Cheon Hwi let out a breath and smiled as he looked up at the stronghold before him. He had already stopped counting how many times he had died.
How many repetitions would it take to defeat Gwak Do-mun? Could he even win?
An ordinary person might have given up by now.
But the corners of Cheon Hwi's lips rose instead.
He was stubborn to the core.
At last, he had faced him. Since the day he had fought alongside Yi Mu-gwang, Gwak Do-mun was someone Cheon Hwi had fought only in his imagination.
‘This time, to hell with the Guarding Martial Authority and the main force. I'll do it my way.’
A blue, poisonous glint filled Cheon Hwi's eyes. It was the determination that he could not die like this before finding Gwak Do-mun.
Before the hand signal to charge was even given.
Shhhk!
Cheon Hwi, hidden in the bushes at the very front of the Vanguard Unit, sprang out first.
‘T-that madman!’
‘The hand signal hasn't even been given. Where is he going...?!’
A short while after Cheon Hwi charged in alone, an order came from the main force, followed by the belated hand signal.
At that command, the Vanguard Unit members, including the Murong Clan martial artists, paled and leaped over the outer wall.
Everyone assumed Cheon Hwi was already dead. But when they vaulted over the wall one after another and landed in the enemy's front courtyard...
Cheon Hwi was already charging at the Black Path martial artists, cutting them down again and again.
“...!”
As though he were reciting memorized forms exactly as they had been written, Cheon Hwi's footwork, movement technique, and swordsmanship unfolded as a single fixed sequence.
He twisted his body half an inch and deflected an arrow, then kicked off the ground and shot into the air, cutting down two opponents.
Two others rushed in, delighted that he was airborne. Cheon Hwi stepped into Returning Cloud Step, twisted his body, and plunged sharply toward the ground. As he drove his sword down, he cut one opponent down. Then he twisted to block a sword extending low from the right, pushed inward, and cut down another.
His movements were like those of an asura. Every swing raised a spray of blood, and crimson droplets scattered in every direction.
He stepped into Returning Cloud Step again, turned aside, cut, stepped on a falling enemy, and cut again.
He cut, cut, and cut as he advanced.
It was the breakthrough he had repeated and repeated through dozens of attempts, until he had mastered and memorized it.
His unhesitating fast sword drew bloody trails through the air as it slaughtered the Black Path martial artists like a madman.
Slash! Crash! Crunch! Crash! Slash!
Murong Rin also stormed through the gate, her two guards at her side and the Flying Swallow Twin-Stream Sword in hand.
But all that greeted them was the pavilion gate, thrown open and cleanly cleared.
“Huh?!”
“W-what is this...?”
From the stronghold's front courtyard to the gate leading into the main hall.
Dozens of Black Path corpses lay sprawled miserably across the dirt, which had been stained red as if it had bathed in blood.
“Where has that wanderer bastard, Cheon Hwi, gone? Don't tell me... he did all this by himself the moment he entered?”
Murong Rin's eyes shook.
Had they not said he was early second-rate? Some had even said he should simply be considered late third-rate.
“...Are the standards for second-rate martial artists different beyond the passes?”
“That cannot be, Young Clan Head.”
Even if he was a second-rate wanderer, could he really have slaughtered dozens of people alone in such a short time and entered the stronghold? It was impossible to believe.
But that was plainly what lay before her eyes.
‘Was he hiding his strength? But for what?’
There was no time to be dazed. Murong Rin quickly threw herself into the stronghold after Cheon Hwi.
When the Vanguard Unit entered the stronghold, Cheon Hwi was calmly shaking the blood from his sword.
Swish!
Droplets of blood scattered with the motion.
All around him, as though it were only natural, just over ten Black Path martial artists were dying or already dead.
Cheon Hwi turned his gaze toward the approaching Black Path group.
The others, too, charged at the enemy without even having time to marvel at Cheon Hwi's martial prowess.
Cheon Hwi's destination was clear.
An isolated room on the third floor of the pavilion, where Gwak Do-mun was waiting.
The deeper he broke in, the heavier the scent of blood seemed to drift from the innermost part of the building.
It was strange and impossible.
The scent of blood was rising from inside, in reverse. Had the battle not begun on the outer first floor?
Unless there had been infighting inside, the scent of blood should have seeped in from outside.
Soon, Cheon Hwi realized that the smell of blood was his own.
It would have been a lie to say he was not afraid, but Cheon Hwi opened the door without fail.
Murong Rin followed closely behind with her two guards.
There was no time to stop her or explain anything. In any case, Cheon Hwi needed their support if he was to face Gwak Do-mun, the Blood Serpent Sword.
Gwak Do-mun's eyes curved into a smile.
“To think that the Murong Clan wench and you, Cheon Hwi, would appear before me together.”
He let out a hot breath and trembled.
“It seems Heaven is on my side tonight.”
Cheon Hwi tightened his grip on his sword and replied.
“If you can make it through tonight.”
Before this night was over, Cheon Hwi would see bloody tears stream from that bastard's filthy face.
As the line from that famous movie went, a man who lives for tomorrow dies at the hands of a man who lives only for today.
And if he could add one more line to it:
A man who lives only for today dies at the hands of a man who lives only for the moment.
Gwak Do-mun was thinking about tomorrow.
Cheon Hwi did not believe he could lose.
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