WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Asakusa
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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈
Chapter 37: I Became a Rising Star Obsessed Over by Prestigious Clans (5)
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In the wide room, red firelight flickered.
Standing at its center, Blood Serpent Sword Gwak Do-mun watched the four of them with his distinctive smiling, narrowed eyes.
Word must have spread that he had been attacked, yet he had apparently been sitting here sipping tea. Steam still rose from the cup before him.
The two people guarding Murong Rin exchanged glances the instant they realized they had run into the wrong opponent.
‘That man is... Gwak Do-mun, leader of the Blood Serpent Gang!’
Naturally, the two guards' purpose was not to earn martial glory. Their sole purpose was to protect the young clan head.
‘If we fight, we'll die for nothing.’
Their opponent was a first-rate master.
Whether one was at the early, middle, or late stage of the first-rate realm, being able to use the power of the middle dantian made as great a difference as that between a third-rate martial artist who could use inner energy and someone who could not.
They were merely late second-rate martial artists. Against an early first-rate master, they could at most buy time to escape, perhaps inflict a wound or two if things went well.
Even if both of them attacked together, it would be the same. They were far too weak to leave a fatal injury.
To subdue him, at least twenty late second-rate martial artists would have to attack at once, prepared to die.
It was only natural that Murong Rin did not have a first-rate guard. She was known as the Golden Jade Flower among the Five Flowers of the Martial World and enjoyed great renown both within and beyond her clan, but the rules of a great clan were not decided by reputation alone.
The order of the main house's guards was strictly set by clan rules. Even a direct descendant could not freely be assigned first-rate guards unless they were the official young clan head.
Both of Murong Rin's guards were said to stand at the threshold of the first-rate realm, but a threshold was only a threshold.
Those who had crossed it and those lingering outside were not separated by a mere step. In the Martial World, that single step decided life and death.
“Well, well. For the precious young clan head of the illustrious Murong Clan to offer up her own neck. I almost feel ashamed that I was considering abandoning Black Fang Stronghold and fleeing.”
“Shut your mouth! How dare that filthy mouth of yours speak of our clan?”
“Well, prestigious clans and people like us... aren't we the same? We make money by beating people up. No?”
“What nonsense!”
Murong Rin drew her twin swords and glared at him. Blood Serpent Sword smiled as though that delighted him beyond measure.
He recognized Cheon Hwi standing beside her, but Cheon Hwi no longer held his interest.
“What should we do?”
“Hmm... Kill everyone but that Murong wench. Ah, leave that boy alive too.”
“As you command.”
As though they were Blood Serpent Sword's guards, two men in black martial uniforms nodded and kicked off the ground, launching themselves across the room.
Boom!
They were fast.
The room was spacious, but with a single kick, they closed the distance in an instant. Both black-clad men were fist fighters.
“Attack!”
Murong Rin's command rang through the hall in time with their kick.
One of her guards stepped forward to block them, while the other rushed toward Murong Rin. The guard hoisted her over a shoulder and darted outside.
Craaaash!
Cheon Hwi and her guard each intercepted a fist fighter.
“...!”
Murong Rin's eyes widened in shock.
Her shout faded into the distance.
“W-What are you doing?!”
“We cannot possibly win!”
“Running with the enemy before your eyes! And you call yourself a Murong swordsman? Put me down!”
...
But Murong Rin's voice quickly faded away.
“Oh dear? They left...”
Gwak Do-mun still wore a smile, as though watching something amusing.
Cheon Hwi was not particularly surprised. He had already seen that happen five or six times.
In the timelines where Murong Rin and her group had followed him in, her guards made the decision they had agreed upon beforehand as soon as they confirmed Gwak Do-mun's identity.
Their sole purpose was to put Murong Rin's safety first, so it was a reasonable decision.
At least one of them had remained behind to buy time, so it was not bad for Cheon Hwi either.
That made it two against three.
Better than facing all three alone. After dying many times, Cheon Hwi had tentatively concluded that this was the only use Murong Rin had when she followed him. She would disappear after leaving one second-rate swordsman behind.
Cheon Hwi's sword blocked the fist fighter's rapidly approaching punch.
Claaang!
He was an unusual fellow. His dominant right hand wore no gauntlet, while his left was covered by an iron fist gauntlet, perhaps because it still lacked the conditioning to spread inner qi or practice external arts.
At first, Cheon Hwi had thought he was left-handed. He had learned otherwise after the man's bare fist struck his abdomen, making him vomit blood and collapse.
Cheon Hwi knew better than to be fooled by that now.
But if knowing were enough to solve everything, people in the Martial World would not stake their lives so fiercely on the distinction between realms.
The fist fighter's right fist flew toward Cheon Hwi's abdomen with a heavy whistle of wind.
It was a trajectory he had already experienced. Cheon Hwi used Returning Cloud Step and swiftly twisted his waist.
But dodging was not the end.
The fist fighter's punch, which had been cutting through empty air, abruptly changed direction in an instant and slammed into Cheon Hwi's shoulder.
Crack!
Agonizing pain shot through him as bone shattered, and his body flew away like a sheet of paper.
Before Cheon Hwi, slammed into the floor, could even vomit blood, the fist fighter's left foot brutally stomped down on his skull.
His vision flickered black.
“Hah!”
‘Thanks for always finishing me off cleanly, bastard.’
Cheon Hwi felt that he was beginning to understand what it meant for demonic qi to build up.
How could it not?
Amid the phantom pain that swiftly passed through him, Cheon Hwi realized something.
‘This won't be easy.’
He had secretly grown arrogant after cutting down dozens of Black Path ruffians in the front yard. Yet even if he killed a hundred third-rate swordsmen, it meant nothing before the wall of a late second-rate master.
The depth of his inner energy, his practical combat experience, the speed flowing through every attack that carried killing intent. In every respect, the late second-rate fist fighter overwhelmingly surpassed him.
Even if Cheon Hwi's sword reached him, it was not easy to pierce his external arts and wound his skin.
The gap could not be bridged through the shallow techniques and predictions of Cheon Hwi, who was only at the beginning of the second-rate realm.
‘The road ahead is long.’
Yet that realization made Cheon Hwi happy.
The gap seemed vast, but it did not seem like something death could not narrow.
That made Cheon Hwi very happy.
“Phew.”
Now Cheon Hwi naturally ran along the shortest route to Gwak Do-mun.
He had even gained enough leeway to deal with only the exact number of third-rate Black Path fighters blocking his path, leaving the rest alone.
Cheon Hwi broke through the enemy lines in an instant and once again came face-to-face with the red lanterns.
As always, Murong Rin followed behind him. When one guard hoisted her over a shoulder and ran, the fist fighter kicked off the ground again.
Boom!
Cheon Hwi knew exactly how the man's attack would follow.
He would throw his iron-gauntleted left hand as bait, like a feint, then strike at Cheon Hwi's solar plexus with his right.
Cheon Hwi raised his sword and deflected the gauntlet.
He twisted aside the feint, then used footwork to evade the hand coming for his solar plexus.
It was his first time avoiding it, but as though that much evasion were nothing, the fist fighter's footwork followed him half a beat faster.
Before Cheon Hwi's iron sword could even reach him, the man's fist struck Cheon Hwi's solar plexus again.
Thud!
Cough!
As Cheon Hwi fell, coughing blood, he did not have time to feel pain. He was too busy considering his next move.
When they met again and the same situation repeated itself, Cheon Hwi lowered his body and targeted the fist fighter's lower body.
But the fighter lightly twisted aside from the sword and drove a knee into Cheon Hwi's jaw.
His jawbone shattered, proving his answer wrong.
He died, died, and died again.
On his sixth death, he endured three exchanges against the fist fighter.
On his eleventh death, his sword shallowly cut the man's throat.
On his thirtieth death, he was able to cut into an opening not fully protected by the fist gauntlet.
Then, on his forty-seventh death, at last...
After exchanging several moves with the fist fighter, Cheon Hwi drove his blade into the back of the man's neck.
Stab!
Huff, huff...
Cheon Hwi's ragged breathing passed through the room. Then he looked down at the hole in his own side and collapsed to the floor.
They had died together.
.
.
.
“Attack!”
The instant Murong Rin gave her command and one of her guards blocked a fist fighter, the man targeting Cheon Hwi rushed in with terrifying killing intent.
His unarmored right hand flew at Cheon Hwi, intent on crushing his chest.
Every movement the man would make was already in Cheon Hwi's head.
Just before the fist reached him, he completely relaxed his body and used Iron Chain Body to firmly lock the area around his ribs.
After taking so many beatings, his mastery of Iron Chain Body had risen quickly. He could now endure one of the man's feints.
Seizing that opening, Cheon Hwi accurately struck at the man's weakness.
Boom! Splurt!
“...!”
Cheon Hwi smiled even as a fist drove into his side.
Because he pierced the man's throat, the punch did not carry through with its full force, and Cheon Hwi's side did not burst apart.
The fist fighter battling Murong Rin's guard widened his eyes in shock.
It must have seemed impossible.
The instant the fist fighter faltered and tried to swing his left hand again, Cheon Hwi did not miss that minute opening.
He used Person Binding and Earth Severance to create an opening. Then Cheon Hwi's Heaven Piercing immediately struck, burrowing into the vulnerable space beneath the man's jaw.
The situation instantly became two against one. The remaining fist fighter guarding Gwak Do-mun glanced back at him, as if asking for help.
But Gwak Do-mun merely continued sipping tea with a smile on his face, as though telling them to entertain him.
Regardless, Cheon Hwi did not miss the minute opening in the man's agitation.
His swift swordplay unleashed the three forms of the Three Powers Swift Sword Forms like lightning.
Earth Severance established the sword's path and secured his safety. The second form, Person Binding, shattered the qi channels around the man's collarbone and threw him off balance. Then the third form, Heaven Piercing, shot forth like lightning.
The three forms, each containing its own principle, erupted as though they were a single move.
Slash! Stab!
Cheon Hwi's cold blade pierced beneath the fist fighter's jaw and burst out through the crown of his head.
The man's eyes rolled back. He convulsed, then heavily collapsed to the floor.
The Murong Clan swordsman's eyes shook. Cheon Hwi had dealt with an opponent who would not have been easy even for them.
Cheon Hwi planted his blood-dripping iron sword on the floor like a cane and drew rough breaths.
“Hah... hah...”
Perhaps Iron Chain Body was still too weak to be considered protective qi. Though his attainments had risen through repeated deaths, one or two ribs had clearly broken.
His side burned as though someone had built a bonfire there and was dancing atop it.
Cheon Hwi raised his bloodied head and stared at the center of the room.
Without even setting down his teacup, Blood Serpent Sword Gwak Do-mun looked down at his fallen subordinates and Cheon Hwi with interest.
Cheon Hwi had died forty-seven times to overcome a single second-rate fist fighter. He had stopped counting how many times he died to deal with both.
The Murong Clan swordsman signaled Cheon Hwi to flee.
But Cheon Hwi's answer was to shake the blood from his blade and face Gwak Do-mun.
He had died a full hundred times just to extend his sword at that man once.
Even if he had to give up after dying and returning, Cheon Hwi would not be satisfied until he charged in.
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