WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 66

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What is done is done

The Orsia family estate sprawled across the landscape, a monument to centuries

of power more magnificent than any building Yuri had ever known, either in this

world or as Lee Su-hyeok. On Earth, he would have mistaken it for a national arts centre, not a private home.

As befitted a martial dynasty, the training grounds alone dwarfed a school sports field, and a constellation of other grand structures orbited the main house.

This was the chasm between the game and the world; it was happening again.

The crude landscapes he had only ever seen on a small, worn monitor became overwhelming forces when witnessed with his own eyes. If mere scenery could do this, what would a man do?

The Sword Emperor, Albator Orsia, was the head of the family, infamous in the Seronis community for being a walking treasure chest, a farmable boss for anyone running a sword build.

He, the One Emperor of the Revered of the Martial Pinnacle, was Level 90, second only to the Heavenly Demon, yet the consensus was that he was easier to kill than a Level 80 archmage.

All bark, no bite.

'The man I met in the game was a joke,' Yuri thought, struggling to breathe.

'The man sitting before me is an apocalypse.'

Seronis had never had NPC illustrations.

A few dedicated artisans on the forums had tried to mod them in, but the indie game’s code would shatter at the slightest touch of an external program, meaning you played it vanilla or you didn’t play at all.

Looking back, it made a grim sort of sense. It was never just a game.

In a world of blurry pixels that barely passed for faces, you had to imagine what people looked like. Female NPCs got the occasional fan art. So did the popular male bosses, the impossibly difficult ones like Polar Point Arsen or the Heavenly Demon.

The Sword Emperor had fan art, too, however most of it was comedic. They were pathetic and ridiculous memes cobbled together from manga panels.

At least with Orca, the art had captured her essence, so the disconnect was manageable.

The gap between the meme and the man was so vast it felt like a physical shock.

His age was a mystery.

Grandfather to the twenty-two-year-old Sword Dragon, he had to be sixty, seventy, maybe older. Rejuvenation had smoothed his face, leaving few wrinkles. His blue eyes, the same shade as his grandson’s, held a profound depth, and his blond hair was faded by time, not whitened.

Like Heavenly Thunder Orca, he carried the unique, telling aura of a warrior who had lived far beyond his apparent years.

“I hear you went to Sector 4,” the Sword Emperor said from his chair.

From the moment Yuri had stepped into the room, the simple act of standing felt wrong, the floorboards unstable beneath his feet.

A tingling numbness crawled over his skin, then an itch. His heart no longer felt like his own; it hammered against his ribs as if squeezed and released by an unseen hand.

It was all because of him.

The man mocked as overhyped in the game radiated a pressure that warped reality just by sitting still. The air was filled with thousand points of pressure pinning Yuri to the spot.

A chill traced a path down Haryeong’s spine.

She remembered when the Sword Emperor had visited the Dang Family, back when it was still her home. The official reason was a search for his son and daughter-in-law, who had vanished after leaving a single, cryptic letter.

That was the story, yet even as a child, Haryeong had sensed his true purpose: a blatant, suffocating suspicion directed at Salhomun.

Salhomun itself had been in chaos. The former head, the Poison King Dang Ji-hu, had abruptly entered seclusion. To this day, Haryeong did not know why.

His disappearance had left her utterly isolated, a ghost in her own house, forbidden from even learning the family’s martial arts. She had certainly not been permitted to stand before the visiting Sword Emperor.

They had never met, which meant he could not possibly recognise her. And yet… she felt a distinct, targeted gaze.

'Was it a mistake to come here?' she wondered, then crushed the thought.

She had done nothing wrong. There was no reason to hide.

“I’ve heard the news.”

The gaze on her lasted only a moment. The Sword Emperor turned his attention back to the Sword Dragon.

“There was a disturbance in the Foul Village three days ago. Heretics.”

“Yes.”

The Sword Dragon’s posture was straight, his voice clear. He believed he had done the right thing.

“I apologise for acting without permission, but the outcome was good.”

“You do not look very sorry.”

“I am sorry,” the Sword Dragon said, bowing his head deep at his grandfather’s

soft murmur.

The Sword Emperor said nothing, simply staring at the top of his grandson’s

head. After a long moment, he sighed.

“That is enough. Raise your head.”

He waved a hand.

The Sword Dragon looked up at once, a grin spreading across his face.

“Are you forgiving me?”

“I wish to scold you for your recklessness, but I can hardly do that in front of our guests. So, who are they?”

His gaze shifted, landing on Yuri.

Screee.

It felt as though a razor’s edge was tracing a line up his body from the tips of his toes.

His skin erupted in goosebumps, and the hair on his arms stood on end. His legs trembled, threatening to buckle. He had to clench every muscle just to remain upright.

A moment later, the Sword Emperor let out a short laugh, and the oppressive aura vanished.

“My apologies. Seeing such a talented young man, I tested you without thinking.”

Only then could Yuri draw a proper breath.

'This is the overhyped Sword Emperor? If he’s this strong, what in the hell is the Heavenly Demon?'

He steadied his reeling mind.

“My name is Yuri. I am known as Thunder Cloud.”

“I am Haryeong of Salhomun. My alias is Dark Blossom.”

Hearing their replies, the Sword Emperor fell silent for a moment, his eyes lingering on them both.

“Thunder Cloud,” he said, addressing Yuri first.

“Are you a disciple of the Fist Wolf and the Moonlit Reveller?”

Yuri shook his head at the rumour.

“I was taught by the Fist Wolf. He did not wish it, so I could not become his disciple, but in my heart he is my master. I have never received any teachings from the Moonlit Reveller.”

“Do you have any other affiliation?”

“I do not.”

“I would like you to become a knight of Orsia. What do you say?”

The sudden offer did not surprise the Sword Dragon.

“My apologies,” Yuri said.

“I have no desire to be tied to one place just yet.”

“A pity. Should you change your mind, the Orsia family will welcome you.”

The Sword Emperor did not press, but he left the invitation open. His gaze moved to Haryeong.

“Dark Blossom of Salhomun. Is Heavenly Thunder well?”

“I do not see her often.”

“I suppose not. And the Faceless Killer?”

“It has been a long time since I have seen them.”

“The Poison King?”

The questions continued, sharp and precise.

“I find it difficult to grasp the intention behind your questions,” Haryeong replied, her expression a perfect mask.

The Sword Emperor stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly.

“I have misspoken. Pay it no mind.”

“Yes.”

“Biren.”

At his call, the door opened, and butler who had been waiting outside bowed as

he entered.

“You called, my lord?”

“Show our guests to their rooms. I have a troublesome grandson to scold.”

“I thought you were not scolding me?” the Sword Dragon asked, a look of injustice on his face.

The Sword Emperor’s reply was firm.

“I need to hear the details of what happened in the Foul Village, do I not?”

In the end, only the Sword Dragon remained. As he began to let out an exaggerated sigh, the Sword Emperor beat him to it with a genuine one.

“You brat.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you sighing so impertinently in front of your grandfather?”

“What can I do? A sigh just comes out.”

“Did you bring guests along just so you would not get a proper scolding?”

“I did not bring them for such a petty reason.”

“Then?”

“You must have seen and felt it too.”

Excitement coloured the Sword Dragon’s voice.

“Thunder Cloud. He is the same age as me and also a 5th-Circle martial artist. But…”

“Enough,” the Sword Emperor cut in before his grandson could ramble.

“First, tell me what happened in the Foul Village. In detail.”

The outer sectors of Panteleon were a long-festering wound.

Albator had reluctantly issued differentiated citizenship for Sectors 1 and 2, but he would never recognise the rest: the neutral zone of Sector 3, the lawless pit of Sector 4, or the ever-expanding slum of Sector 5, which grew daily with squatters.

Fifty years ago, he had allowed refugees from the Rift to stay temporarily out of pity. Now those shameless wretches treated his kindness as an entitlement, their demands growing more unreasonable by the year.

“I received information about a heretic gathering, so I went to see for myself.”

The Sword Emperor sighed again.

“Why did you not ask me?”

“The information was unconfirmed. I wanted to verify it with my own eyes first.”

“You did more than just verify it, did you not?”

“…”

“It is obvious what happened. You saw it and you could not hold back.”

“Yes… well…”

“I do not know who you take after, being so impulsive. What is done is done. So, what happened?”

Estor recounted the events without excuse or justification. His grandfather listened without a word, then let out a long, heavy breath.

“You are lucky to have returned alive.”

“…”

“What would you have done if you were alone? Did you truly think you could handle a 6th-Circle mage who wields divine power by yourself?”

“I could have escaped.”

“You do not know that. And the Sword Shadow? If the Rakshasa Witch or the Three-Eyed Beast had been in that room instead, you would have died without a chance to flee.”

Those two were infamous among the Seven Evils for their savage volatility.

“I am sorry.”

The Sword Dragon’s bravado vanished, his shoulders slumping.

“It is not a matter for apologies. Regardless of the process, you succeeded. You killed a Bishop of the Sect of Chaos, found a tool to track the others and returned unharmed.”

Rising from his chair, the Sword Emperor walked over and clapped a hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

“On top of that, you even found the Sect’s directive. With this, we finally have the justification we need to make the outer sectors independent.”

The threat of a full-blown riot had been simmering for years.

The Orsia family was not alone in wanting it dealt with. The Selvis Mage Tower and several other prominent families felt the same.

“What was the Young Leader like?” the Sword Emperor asked.

“Estor, what did you see?”

“Her name was Biyeon. A woman. She seemed about my age. The skin on her wrists and neck was severely burnt, and her voice was a raw rasp. She refused to remove her mask, so I assume her face is the same.”

“And her martial arts?”

“I felt her black Ganggi dominate the space.”

“The Heavenly Demon’s Divine Art,” the Sword Emperor said with a grim smile,

returning to his chair.

“To already have spatial control at the 5th Circle means she is grasping Willpower. A genius, worthy of her master.”

“But I did not feel she was superior to me. She was hasty, complacent. That is why the Bishop’s suicide attack caught her off guard.”

“That is not for you to say, is it? You are also hot-headed and lack prudence. That is why you drew your sword at the gathering and why you nearly died drinking an unknown potion in a dead man’s house.”

The pointed remarks left the Sword Dragon speechless.

“You owe a great debt to Thunder Cloud and Dark Blossom,” the Sword Emperor stated.

“Yes. Without him, the fight with the Bishop would have been difficult. Without her, I would have died from the potion.”

“And both situations arose because you acted alone.”

“Yes.”

“So I must open the Orsia treasury for a debt you incurred?”

“Yes,” the Sword Dragon replied, his confidence returning.

The Sword Emperor let out a dry laugh.

“And why is that?”

“Because I said I would.”

“You cannot go back on your word?”

“They rendered great aid to me, the future of Orsia. One day, I will be the head of this family, and so the treasury will be mine. Would it not be acceptable to open it in advance?”

“You wicked brat.”

The Sword Emperor chuckled again and nodded.

“He asked for an elixir, did he?”

“Yes. He said that despite his opportunities, he has not been training for long

and feels a lack of internal energy.”

“That Ascard fellow’s gift should suffice.”

The Sword Dragon flinched.

“Ascard’s gift… you mean an Elixir?”

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?”

“You just declared you were opening your treasury. Is an Elixir suddenly too precious?”

“In my heart, I wanted to give him one. But I never imagined you would agree,

Lord Head.”

“He helped solve one of Panteleon’s headaches and saved my worthless grandson’s life. An Elixir is the least he deserves.”

The Sword Emperor rose.

“Besides, I am greedy for that boy, Thunder Cloud. Enough to want him as a knight of Orsia. I was refused, but he will not forget the Elixir he receives today. Gifting him the one I received from Ascard is a fine way to build a connection. It is no loss.”

“What about Dark Blossom?”

“Yes. Dark Blossom. Hmph. Just forming a connection with that child could be an

opportunity.”

He paused.

“If it is about the Poison King… she does not wish it to be known, so do not ask.”

He thought back twenty years.

He could not accept the letter his son and daughter-in-law had left, its vague talk of disownment and seclusion. He had believed it was a fake, a ploy by assassins to make him stop searching. And the world’s finest assassins belonged to Salhomun.

He had not wanted to believe it.

He and the Poison King had shared a deep bond, but the Poison King himself had gone into seclusion. Riven by suspicion, Albator had gone to the Dang Family and demanded they search for his son.

The misunderstanding was cleared during that visit, but he never saw his old friend.

Before he left, however, he had seen a child from a distance. He and the Poison King used to exchange letters once a year. In one of them, his friend had mentioned a girl with two moles like teardrops under her eyes.

“A strange fate,” the Sword Emperor murmured softly as he left the room.

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried