WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 67

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Six seven

Yuri and Haryeong were shown to separate guest rooms in the sprawling mansion.

The Orsia Family, rumoured to wield power eclipsing even the Five Great Eastern Families and the major sects, clearly did not employ ordinary servants.

The butler who had guided them, a man named Biren, moved with precision, his physique speaking of relentless training.

‘A named NPC,’ Yuri recalled.

In the game, Biren had been a high-level character, over level seventy, though he bore no special title. Thirty years had passed since then, likely making him a 7th-Circle master by now.

The thought was sobering.

To even be considered for the Orsia Knights, one needed to reach the 4th Circle. The rank and file were 5th-Circle, with a significant number at the 6th. The senior officers had to be 7th-Circle.

The 7th Circle was the minimum entry requirement for the Revered. The old guard, those who had held their titles for decades, must have shattered that ceiling long ago.

‘Heavenly Thunder Orca has to be 8th-Circle by now.’

The Moonlit Reveller was harder to place.

Not quite 8th-Circle, Yuri guessed, but certainly at the very peak of the 7th. The power gap within a single circle could be immense.

This obsession with the 7th Circle was a recent development, forced on him by the grimoire he had taken from the Withered Crone’s hovel: the Art of Corpse Dissolution.

His Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil had fast-tracked his martial progress, but magic was another beast entirely.

A martial artist’s rank was not solely defined by the internal energy pooled in their dantian. A mage’s circle, however, was fundamentally bound to their Soul Power.

Soul Power was the very essence of a mage, a force distinct from internal

energy or mana. It was similar to a martial artist’s Willpower, but not the

same.

A mage’s circle was a measure of how thoroughly they had tempered their soul and unified it with their magic.

Being a transmigrator, his original soul had possessed an innate talent for it, which was the only reason he had been able to dabble in magic as a supplement to his martial training.

But to properly wield the Art of Corpse Dissolution, specifically the spell known as Eternal Thirst, he would need to cultivate his Soul Power in earnest.

‘Magic…’

Was one spell formula worth the grind? He shut down the thought.

The Corpse Immortal’s Eternal Thirst was a technique worth any price. If he could reach the 7th Circle and master it, he would transform from a fighter who was merely difficult to kill into a true zombie.

Against most opponents, mage or martial artist, it would be an insurmountable advantage.

‘And I doubt I could rework Eternal Thirst into a martial art, not with my current understanding.’

A diamond in the rough still needed a jeweller’s touch. The late Pointing Flame had stalled at the 5th Circle not just from a lack of talent; environment was everything.

Yuri himself had only reached the 5th Circle at his age because he had stumbled upon the Heavenly Art of Annihilating Evil, consumed the Azure Heaven Pills, and mastered both the Fist of the Rending Cloud and the Art of the Violet Lightning Flash.

He had built his foundation on peak-tier arts under the tutelage of the Fist Wolf. His magical education, by contrast, was a shambles.

‘Ah.’

As he sat in a plush armchair, wrestling with the problem, a memory surfaced.

Two years ago, Harabel Ushia had offered to take him with her.

‘If you come with me, I’ll look after you,’ she had said, promising to teach him or at least keep him on as a handyman if he proved useless.

Asking Orca for tutelage was out of the question, but he might be able to strike a deal with the Crimson Wing.

‘I’ll put a pin in that for now.’

He would try to decipher the grimoire on his own first. If it proved impossible, he could seek her out then.

Having settled on a course of action, Yuri felt a presence stir.

“What’s that look for?”

Haryeong’s voice cut through his thoughts.

She had been sprawled across the enormous bed but now pushed herself up on her elbows. Though given the room next door, she had made herself at home in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you know where the Crimson Wing has been recently?”

“An odd question to pull out of thin air.”

“It’s about that grimoire from the Withered Crone’s house.”

“Don’t tell me you plan to sell it to her.”

“No. I thought I’d try to learn it myself first. If I can’t, I might ask her for

help.”

“Hah,” Haryeong breathed, a flicker of genuine surprise in her eyes.

“If you need a teacher, couldn’t you ask Lady Orca? Or Miss Elena?”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Lady Orca is a long shot, I’ll grant you. But I doubt Miss Elena would turn you

down.”

“How could I possibly face Elena and ask for something like that?” Yuri shot back, his brow furrowing.

Haryeong studied his expression for a beat before shrugging.

“Have it your way. As for the Crimson Wing’s whereabouts… I may be a well-informed assassin, but the world is a big place.”

“So you don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t say that. There are always rumours. The Crimson Wing tends to make waves wherever she goes. Last I heard, she was sighted near Surtr Volcano.”

“Is she after the Essence of Fire Energy again? I thought that only manifested

once a century.”

“Unlikely. Surtr Volcano is a fiery hellscape, a river of lava where an ordinary

person wouldn’t survive a day. But for a pyromancer, a place overflowing with fire energy is a sacred ground. She’s probably there to refine her art.”

Knock, knock.

The sharp rap at the door came just as Haryeong finished speaking. Yuri had

already sensed their approach.

“Come in.”

The Sword Dragon and the Sword Emperor stepped into the room. It seemed the talk between grandfather and grandson was concluded.

Yuri and Haryeong rose to their feet.

“So you were together,” the Sword Emperor observed, his gaze glinting with

amusement as it fell upon the two of them standing side-by-side.

“Are you lovers, by any chance?”

If Yuri had been drinking tea, he might have committed the profound disrespect

of spraying it across the Sword Emperor’s face. Fortunately, he was not.

“No, we are not.”

“It’s a secret.”

The replies came in the same instant.

Yuri shot Haryeong a venomous glare. What secret? It wasn’t true.

[I didn’t say we were], she sent, her thoughts laced with amusement.

[Then please refrain from making misleading statements.]

[A person needs a few secrets to seem mysterious. Like me]

Yuri already had secrets enough to fill a library; he had no desire for more.

“Which is it?” the Sword Emperor asked, head tilted.

Yuri fixed Haryeong with a final warning look.

“We are not in that kind of relationship.”

“I see,” the Sword Emperor said with a slight nod.

The question had been born of idle curiosity, nothing more.

“Estor.”

“Yes.”

In the Sword Dragon’s hands was a large, ornate box. It was covered in gleaming gold-leaf and inlaid with masterfully cut jewels that seemed to drink the light. The box alone was likely worth a fortune, and a complex web of protective magic shimmered over its surface.

The Sword Dragon stepped forward, a grin spreading across his face.

Click.

As he pressed a section on the side of the box, the inlaid jewels shifted and the lock disengaged.

Whoosh…

A sweet fragrance, like a field of flowers in full bloom, washed over them. The ambient mana grew so dense it felt almost syrupy.

“Do you know what this is?” the Sword Dragon asked, his smile confident.

Yuri and Haryeong said nothing. They could only stare into the box.

Nestled inside were two vials, decorated with the same gold and gems as their container. But the magic woven around the vials themselves was infinitely more intricate, a lattice of spells designed for perfect preservation.

“What… what is that?” Yuri finally managed, his eyes locked on the vials.

It was the reaction they had been expecting.

“An Elixir,” the Sword Dragon replied, the grin widening.

“From the Ascard Family.”

Yuri’s jaw went slack.

The pinnacle of alchemical creation, said to surpass even natural treasures unless they were thousands of years old. An item that had been a nightmare to acquire in the game, something players ground for relentlessly to boost their stats past the max level cap.

“An… Elixir?”

It was a prize of such staggering value that even the Moonlit Reveller had accepted a request from the Ascards just to receive one as payment.

Yuri felt a sense of vertigo.

He never thought he would see one until the latter half of the main story, yet here it was, right in front of him.

“This is too much,” Haryeong said, her professional mask sliding back into place

after the initial shock.

She looked from the Sword Dragon to the Sword Emperor.

“An Ascard Family Elixir is a treasure beyond price. It can’t be bought with money.”

Even the Ascards themselves considered it a successful year if they produced a

single one, for sometimes years passed with no new creation.

The Elixirs were so stringently managed they never reached any market. The only way an outsider could obtain one was to earn it as a gift through deep friendship or by performing service of commensurate worth.

A 5th-Circle master could never dream of acquiring one.

“Too much? I think not,” the Sword Emperor said.

“You both played a decisive role in resolving a problem that has plagued Panteleon for years. And you saved the life of my only heir.”

“But…”

“Consider it an investment,” the Sword Emperor continued, a faint smile touching his lips.

“You are both young, and your talent is undeniable. The world is full of the mediocre. The gifted are common enough, but true geniuses are rare. And in my eyes, you two seem exceptional even among them.”

He paused, his gaze sharp.

“Before I am the Sword Emperor, I am the head of the Orsia Family. As such, I wish to invest in young talents who will one day shake the world. All I ask is that you remember this day, that you look kindly upon the Orsia Family in the future, and that you continue your relationship with this foolish grandson of mine.”

Haryeong finally relented with a slight bow of her head.

Though burdened by the sheer scale of the gift, she wasn’t exactly opposed to it. If she and Yuri had been alone, she would have probably let out a cheer.

‘The Ascard Family has practised alchemy for generations,’ Yuri thought, his

mind racing.

‘The current head, Alfreon, is supposed to be the greatest in their history.’

He remembered the golden rule of Elixir farming in the game: do not kill Alfreon

Ascard. Killing him would stop all NPC respawns in Ascard territory and halt the

Elixir drops.

Of course, to access the hidden boss route, you eventually had to kill him. Lee Su-hyeok had killed the level seventy alchemist dozens of times, as his offensive spells were neither powerful nor complex.

“As the symbol of the Ascard Family, the Elixir has been improved over generations,” the Sword Emperor said, personally taking the vials from the box.

“These were created by Alfreon himself.”

He handed one to Yuri and one to Haryeong.

“They are unlike any spiritual medicine you have ever taken. When I consumed mine, it felt as if the Elixir itself was alive.”

“That was my impression as well,” the Sword Dragon agreed.

“You’ll understand once you drink it. A word of advice: do not try to circulate its energy. The Elixir’s power will settle into you on its own.”

Yuri swallowed, his gaze fixed on the vial in his hand.

The jewelled container radiated a gentle warmth, like that of his own skin.

“About the duel my grandson wishes to have,” the Sword Emperor added.

“Yes.”

“Let us schedule it for one month from now. Does that suit you?”

“I am ready at any time, but…”

“It will take at least three days for the Elixir to fully assimilate into your

body,” he explained.

“Both my grandson and I required that long. And you will need time after that to adjust to your new state. Furthermore,” his gaze shifted to the Sword Dragon, “I need time to prepare him.”

“Prepare him?”

“He confessed that if you were to fight now, he believes he might lose. I am a man who believes one can learn from defeat, but I much prefer victory.”

The Sword Emperor smiled and clapped his grandson on the shoulder.

“And even if he loses, I do not want it to be an easy loss. So, I will spend the next month refining his swordsmanship. Do I have your permission?”

“If that is your wish, I understand.”

A month as a guest of the Orsia Family was nothing compared to a free Elixir.

“One last thing. We must make a formal statement about the subjugation of the heretics in the Foul Village.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“About breaking up their assembly and killing their Bishop,” the Sword Emperor clarified.

From their perspective, there was nothing to hide.

In fact, if it became known that the young Sword Dragon had defeated a Bishop of the Sect of Chaos, the reputation of both the man and his family would soar.

“We will, of course, be mentioning the Demonic Cult’s Young Leader.”

He chuckled softly.

“Until now, they have never openly clashed with the heretics. Even those cockroaches have never dared to encroach upon the Demon Subjugation Palace.”

He intended to use the announcement to firmly establish the Demonic Cult as

enemies of the Sect of Chaos, whatever the Heavenly Demon’s true intentions

were.

“What do you two think? Is it acceptable to include your names and contributions in the statement?”

It was a question of fame.

Yuri considered it. His alias, Crimson Foot, was a temporary measure for infiltration, no longer necessary now that the Bishop was dead.

For a transmigrator, fame was a double-edged sword, but his blade had a few safety features.

Official recognition for subjugating heretics alongside the Orsias could serve as a mitigating factor if the Sect of Order ever discovered his true nature.

‘If my name gets out… Lorelia will hear of me.’

The thought sparked a flicker of longing.

The only other risk was retaliation from the heretics. But that was precisely what he wanted. To kill their evil god, he needed to kill as many of them as possible first.

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind either,” Haryeong chimed in.

Yuri glanced at her. A strange, distorted smile played on her lips.

With their consent secured, the Sword Emperor and Sword Dragon took their leave.

“What was that look on your face earlier?” Yuri asked once they were alone.

“What look?”

“That smile.”

“Now you’re critiquing my expressions? You have a truly rotten personality, Yuri,” she said, flopping back onto the bed.

“I was smiling, yes, but not strangely.”

“Why?”

“If my name becomes known alongside the Sword Dragon’s, the Dang Family will certainly hear of it, won’t they?” she mused.

“And Miss Elena, back in Rutlan, will also learn that I am with you. The thought of it simply made me smile.”

The mention of Elena’s name was a dull ache in his chest. He didn’t want to ask anything more.

Haryeong knew this. She enjoyed it.

“The Elixir,” she said, changing the subject.

“Are you going to drink it here?”

“We received them together, so we should drink them together. Is there a problem?”

“None at all.”

Click.

He twisted the cap, and without him tilting the vial, a crimson liquid floated out.

The sweet fragrance intensified, the air growing heavy.

The brilliant red droplet hovered and squirmed, reminiscent of the slime toys children played with back on Earth. Forewarned by the Sword Emperor, Yuri wasn’t alarmed.

The wriggling Elixir drifted slowly towards him, having bonded to him as its owner the moment he opened the vial. It paused before his face, and he opened his mouth.

Just as the Sword Emperor had said, he didn't need to swallow. The Elixir slithered down his throat on its own.

A cool, gelatinous mass was making its way down, yet there was no discomfort. It was like inhaling smoke, but without the tightness in his throat or the urge to cough.

Thump.

The Elixir passed down his oesophagus, coursed through his meridians and rushed towards his dantian.

***

A sliver of light, leaking through a gap in the blackout curtains, pricked at her eyelids.

Elena, sprawled on the sofa like a corpse, felt a surge of irritation at the throbbing in her skull and the orange glow blooming behind her eyes.

‘Maybe I should just enchant the damned things,’ she thought.

Most mages, fuelled by coffee and buried in research, kept terrible hours. Spells to block sunlight were common.

The only reason she hadn’t bothered was because there used to be a woman who would bust into the living room, nagging as she threw the curtains wide.

But she was gone now.

“Ugh…”

A sharp pain lanced through her head. Elena groaned, her hand twitching.

The arm that had been dangling over the side of the sofa trembled as it lifted.

Clink.

Her fingers nudged the table. It was a slight touch, but a wine bottle perched on the edge tipped over.

Thud.

An annoying sound.

Elena grimaced and forced her eyes open, her chaotic living room swimming into view.

From the bottle she had just toppled, the wine she hadn’t finished before passing out was trickling onto the floor.

Drip… drip… drip.

The blood-red, sticky liquid spread across the carpet.

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