WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

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◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 19

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Beginning

The Namgung Family’s man-made elixir, the Azure Heaven Pill, was about the size of two knuckles. Its surface gleamed with a jade-like lustre, so polished it could have passed for a marble.

Lee Su-hyeok, who had grown up without parents, had never so much as tasted herbal medicine. Still, he imagined this was what it must smell like.

“I’ve really made it in life, getting to try something like this,” he murmured, sincerity dripping from every word.

Across from him, Elena’s cheek twitched. He half-expected her to rise to the bait so he could play it up even further, but she let it pass. Instead, she leaned forwards, her expression firm.

“The Art of the Untainted Heart. Are you sure you’ve memorised it all?”

It was only a borderline first-rate technique; succeeding in the initiation didn’t require reciting every single formula. Still, its passages were long and easy to fumble.

“I’ve memorised it,” Yuri replied with equal gravity. Mistakes weren’t an option here.

He had already opened his dantian once, drawing qi through the Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil, a secret only he knew. But now he needed to convince everyone else this was his first attempt, using the far humbler Art of the Untainted Heart.

This was the role he had to play.

“If only I were at the Sixth Circle, I could guide your energy directly. It is a shame,” said Haryeong, her face unreadable.

“Yes, a shame,” Yuri echoed, though inwardly relieved.

If he let someone else manipulate his qi, not even the Veil of Deception would hide the truth.

Drawing a slow breath, he folded his legs beneath him and steadied his posture.

“As soon as you swallow the Azure Heaven Pill, you must guide your qi according to the Art of the Untainted Heart,” Haryeong instructed.

“The pill’s energy will flow through your meridians to your dantian, opening it and allowing qi to settle into internal energy.”

The technique was a far lower grade than the Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil, but right now, it was the one he needed.

“You won’t be able to direct all of the pill’s power into your dantian. Don’t think of it as wasted. Once it opens, the energy won’t leave your body. From there, you can draw it in slowly.”

Yuri nodded and slipped the pill onto his tongue.

“So? Does it melt right away?” Elena asked.

“Miss Elena, how can you distract him at such a critical moment?” Haryeong’s tone was cold.

“An elixir of the Azure Heaven Pill’s calibre does not simply melt. It must be chewed.”

Tuning out their exchange, Yuri bit down. The taste hit instantly, so bitter his face twisted on reflex. He forced himself to keep chewing.

Pop.

Something burst within the pill. Before he could even swallow, its unleashed energy surged down his throat of its own accord.

He immediately began circulating the Art of the Untainted Heart. The formulas etched into his mind turned, his meridians thrumming with light.

‘…’

He had braced himself for a struggle, but the process ended almost anticlimactically. The energy swept into his dantian at once. Even without the Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil, every drop of the pill’s power settled neatly inside him. None of it wasted.

As expected of the Namgung Family’s elixir. No wonder it was so sought after in the game. The amount of internal energy it produced was immense, greater than everything he’d accumulated in a month of cultivating the Heavenly Art.

Even accounting for his transmigrator’s bonuses and divine-grade technique, a single pill had just given him years’ worth of growth.

But he couldn’t open his eyes yet. Haryeong had warned him that even with an elixir’s aid, the process should take hours.

He kept his breathing steady, eyes shut, while in his mind’s eye two techniques appeared side by side: the humble, borderline first-rate Art of the Untainted Heart, and the likely divine-grade Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil.

The difference was stark.

The Heavenly Art loomed like a colossal flame. The Untainted Heart shimmered as a small, bubbling spring.

The flame could grow endlessly, devouring any fuel it was given. The spring, however, had a fixed source; to draw more water, one had to dig for a new channel.

‘I see.’

A fire that burned too fiercely wasn’t always a blessing. If it grew beyond control, one risked becoming fuel oneself, consumed to ash.

The spring, though weaker, was stable. Even if it ran dry, one could always dig and find another flow.

‘Consumed by the flame… becoming kindling and burning away. Is this what qi deviation truly is?’

In this world, martial arts belonged to three great paths: the Righteous, the Underworld, and the Demonic.

And Yuri’s judgement was clear. The Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil was no Righteous Path technique. It didn’t even feel like an Underworld art. No, this was fiercer. More dangerous. A flame that threatened to devour everything, practitioner included.

I am the fire that enacts heavenly punishment,

the asura who annihilates evil,

the apostle who rights the course of heaven's will.

My hands uphold the sacred flame,

my feet shall tread upon demons.

The verses of the Heavenly Art, which he had repeated countless times in meditation, burned through his mind. They spoke of justice, of righteous slaughter, but compared to the Untainted Heart, they now felt chilling.

‘This… is a demonic art.’

Cold sweat ran down his spine. Demonic arts carried risks far beyond those of the Righteous or Underworld. Not every practitioner fell into ruin, but the danger was ever-present, waiting.

‘But why would a priestess of the Sect of Order wield a demonic art? And why would she pass it on to me?’

He thought of Lorelia, the way she revelled in violence, the fervour blazing in her eyes. In hindsight, it fit all too well. A demonic art suited her perfectly.

And yet, she hadn’t only given him the Heavenly Art. She had also bestowed the Veil of Deception. It was excessive. Even setting an unbeatable record in the Hall of Honour didn’t warrant such a reward.

‘They can’t have given me all this just for that.’

He recalled her words: various circumstances within our sect. That she, who wasn’t even responsible for transmigrators, had been assigned to him. He had never learned why.

‘The Sect of Order isn’t as simple as it looks. Do they mean to use me against other transmigrators? Against the evil god itself?’

Or… would they kill him if he chose the other side?

‘Tch. Pointless to dwell on it. I just need to get stronger.’

Strength was everything.

Even Chuk-sin-doo, the Moonlit Reveller, flaunted his status as a transmigrator and still lived unscathed.

‘Moonlit Reveller, though… what a ridiculous title.’

His thoughts eventually unravelled. The blazing fire of the Heavenly Art dwindled, leaving only the steady trickle of the Untainted Heart. His mind drifted with it.

“Uh… how is it?”

When he opened his eyes, Elena was still there, watching.

“I think it went well?”

“Let me see.” Haryeong, who had been lounging on the sofa, rose and stepped forward.

Yuri calmly extended his hand.

A thread of qi flowed from her into his body. She probed his dantian, then gave a short nod.

“About half.”

“Half? Is that good or bad?”

“It is good. My judgement was correct: your Martial Talent is high.”

Relief loosened from his chest.

“With this, you are now a First-Circle martial artist. You may boast of it if asked.”

“It’s not exactly a Circle worth boasting of.”

“If you understand that, then train diligently. Regulate your qi every day. When circulating it through your meridians feels as natural as breathing, you will reach the Second Circle.”

She released his hand.

“Well then, enjoy your celebration. Opening your dantian is no small feat. And you should thank me.”

“Thank you.”

“Words of gratitude alone are rather cheap, are they not?”

Her eyes shifted to Elena. Elena frowned at once.

“Don’t tell me this costs extra too.”

“You make me sound like a miser. I was only observing. No payment is required.”

With that, Haryeong gave them a curt bow and departed.

“…So. A celebratory party?” Elena asked.

“Aren’t you full?”

“We could at least have some champagne.”

Now that she mentioned it, Yuri hadn’t touched alcohol once since becoming Yuri. He wasn’t eager, but Elena clearly wanted it.

“…Fine. Just a little.”

He wasn’t sure how strong his tolerance was anymore. The original Yuri had been a heavy drinker, while Su-hyeok had been the type to pass out after a glass. Which body would decide the outcome?

‘Hopefully I won’t get drunk on champagne. Worst-case, I’ll start mouthing off like that bastard used to.’

The old Yuri had been belligerent when drunk, picking fights and cursing nonstop. Su-hyeok, at least, had just fallen asleep.

“Do you drink often?” he asked.

“Not really. Maybe once a month.”

“Not with Haryeong, I take it.”

“Of course not. Last time was with some adventurers after a Fourth-grade request. Just a light drink.”

Pop!

The cork of a luxurious champagne bottle came free with a crisp burst, aided by magic.

“Before that, the Tower Master dragged me out for a drink… and I’ve had a few with my senior, Lacey.”

“The one who reached the Fifth Circle? You must be close.”

He remembered the name clearly, rumours whispered she might be a transmigrator.

“I suppose so. When I first came to the Dersia Mage Tower, Lacey and I were roommates.”

“You don’t drink with your other seniors?”

“Arist? I told you before, I don’t really like her. She ignored me until last year, and then, after I reached the Fourth Circle, the way she looked at me changed…”

Elena trailed off as she poured the champagne, then shot Yuri a glare, narrowing her eyes.

“She stares at me like this all the time. Well, I can’t say I don’t understand. I advanced to the Fourth Circle a whole year earlier than she did. Lacey also reached the Fourth Circle at my age, you know? That means our talent is about the same, so I should be able to reach the Fifth Circle in seven years too.”

Her irritation melted into a bright smile.

Swirling her glass, she went on, “Though Circles don’t always line up neatly. They say to break past the Fourth, you need more than talent. You need experience… or rather, a catalyst.”

“A catalyst?”

“A unique magic, the embodiment of a mage’s personal ideal. It means creating your own spell, even something small. Without that strong desire, the mana inside you won’t respond.”

A catalyst. Yuri mulled it over.

For martial artists, the struggle was the same. To reach the Fifth Circle, one had to align mind, qi, and body perfectly to manifest Ganggi, a protective aura of pure energy.

“So, how does it feel?” Elena raised her glass towards him.

“You’re officially a martial artist now. Any thoughts?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel real yet,” Yuri admitted, tapping his glass against hers.

The orphan from Oldor had once dreamed of becoming a martial artist or mage, but he’d died with his dantian unopened, a knife in his gut.

Now, as Yuri, he could finally call himself a martial artist, yet it felt hollow. He hadn’t fought with these new abilities, hadn’t truly lived them.

“Doesn’t feel real…” Elena’s smile faltered.

She wanted to brush it off, but couldn’t. They couldn’t stay as they were forever. If Yuri had never opened his dantian, maybe they could have… but now, the foundation for him to stand on his own had been laid.

“Still, congratulations, Yuri.” She forced her smile back and lifted her glass for another soft clink.

“It’s thanks to you.”

Ah.

Why did those words sound so sweet?

She was glad she’d gone to Oldor to see him. She had worried too much; that he would be different, that he wouldn’t be the Yuri she remembered, that disappointment would be all that waited.

That was why she had kept her distance.

If I’d known it would be like this, I would have come sooner, Elena thought, hiding her heart behind another sip.

***

They emptied the bottle between them, but nothing happened. He barely felt a buzz, and no careless words slipped out.

Late that night, back in his room, Yuri sat down to meditate.

This time he used the Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil instead of the Untainted Heart. His internal energy surged. Even after cycling it through every meridian, his dantian still brimmed with power.

The next morning, he carefully opened the manual for the Fist of the Rending Cloud.

[The high heavens have no ceiling and no walls.]

[It is the clouds that throw the sky into disarray. The drifting clouds lower the heavens, hide the sun, and bring forth the night.]

[Standing on the ground, I look to the sky. A sky full of clouds seems so very low. Ascending to the heavens, I stand with the clouds. The ground is far below; the sky is not low at all.]

[The clouds that drift through the sky become me. The colour of the heavens changes according to how I flow.]

[I wave my hand and part the clouds. The divided clouds continue to flow.]

“What the hell is this…?”

The rest was more of the same mystic rambling.

Yuri grimaced, flipping through page after page until his eyes landed on diagrams, sketched movements annotated with techniques.

At least those made sense.

‘Did the guy practise drawing just to leave behind this manual…?’

Cross-referencing the diagrams with the text, the gist of the style began to emerge.

Yuri stood, mimicking the movements. However, the room was too cramped, so he stepped into the garden for space.

The Fist of the Rending Cloud had four forms in total. First Form: Wandering Cloud.

‘Punch, retract, punch, retract.’

It wasn’t a one-handed style; both fists were demanded equally.

He drilled the motion again and again. Hundreds of repetitions, yet something was missing.

This wasn’t a game, where a skill activated with a keystroke. To master even one form properly, he had no idea how long it would take.

Still, the more he repeated it, the closer he felt. The gap between the skill he had once watched on a glowing monitor and the one he now practised with his own fists narrowed, little by little.

Thump.

His heart hammered painfully. Then, suddenly, something clicked. The missing piece fell into place.

Whoosh.

No internal energy flowed into his strike, it was just a punch. But for the first time, satisfaction bloomed.

“Hah…”

He didn’t get to savour it.

A soft gasp sounded behind him. Startled, Yuri spun around, only for dizziness to crash over him. His knees buckled. Someone caught him before he hit the ground.

“A-are you alright?”

Elena.

Still dazed, Yuri blinked up at her. His body was drenched in sweat. The sun hadn’t even set, yet it felt like he had trained for hours. His shoulders screamed, close to tearing.

“What… what’s going on?” he muttered hoarsely, turning his head.

And there, standing in the garden of Elena’s mansion, eyes wide in shock, was none other than Bakerd, the Fist Wolf. The man Yuri was supposed to meet tomorrow.

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