WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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Chapter 123: When Young, I Knew Not Sorrow's Taste (28)
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Yeon Sowol thought to himself.
'I hope they all make it to the Twelve Earthly Branches.'
So Hye, a mid first-rate martial artist, had made it into the 108 contenders but failed to enter the Thirty-Six Heroes.
“Participation is what matters! This worked out well. I was already busy negotiating with the merchant guild anyway!”
That was true.
She was only seventeen, so making it into the 108 contenders was already an impressive showing.
Jin Geol, on the other hand, had not entered the martial arts tournament at all.
'How am I supposed to enter that thing? Because of you, I ran around spreading absurd rumors everywhere! The day even one person recognizes me will be the day of my funeral! What? I just shouldn't get caught? What if I do get caught? What then? What then!'
After railing at him like that, Jin Geol had taken the gold and seemed to be enjoying life in his own way, drinking, having fun, drinking tea, and having fun some more.
So when Yeon Sowol thought of “everyone,” he meant exactly three people.
Won Huiseung of the Zhongnan Sect.
Namgung Ujin of the Namgung Family.
Hwangbo Hwi of the Hwangbo Family.
As it happened, all three were scheduled to fight before Yeon Sowol.
Namgung Ujin successfully entered the Twelve Earthly Branches.
He had originally belonged to the middle tier, chosen as neither one of the twelve strong nor one of the twelve weak. Even so, he defeated both the strong and weak contestants in his group, clearly showing the world the Namgung Family's strength.
“I am Ujin of the great Namgung Family!”
Won Huiseung, meanwhile, was unlucky.
“Hmm. A peak-realm opponent...”
He too had been in the middle tier, neither strong nor weak, but the strong contestant in his group had unfortunately been a peak-realm master.
Won Huiseung fought desperately with the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven, but he could not overcome the wall of the peak realm and was defeated.
“A good match. Thanks to you, my horizons have broadened.”
“...I learned a great deal, Senior.”
Won Huiseung lowered his head as he looked at the beads of sweat on his opponent's forehead. He had made a peak-realm master sweat, so he must have fought well.
But...
'His breathing... wasn't disturbed in the slightest...'
Though the match had just ended, his opponent's breathing remained calm. The gap between them was far greater than it had appeared.
'Ha Jeop is a year younger than me, yet he defeated Senior Bubulbu...'
Even Yeon Sowol had forced Senior Na Seok, the Stopless Sword, to withdraw...
Won Huiseung knew those two were exceptional, yet he could not stop the bitterness rising within him.
Then came Hwangbo Hwi's match.
He too succeeded in entering the Twelve Earthly Branches.
Won Huiseung's face darkened even further at the sight.
'Then am I the only one who failed to become one of the Twelve Earthly Branches...?'
As he sank into despair, an opportunity came to him.
“Since Moyong Ha of Liaoning has withdrawn from the martial arts tournament, one spot has opened up. That place will be given to the strongest among those who have been eliminated.”
Originally, each group had contained three people.
The twelve strong contestants chosen by the Thirty-Six Heroes through a vote. The twelve weak contestants. And the twelve middle-tier contestants, who belonged to neither group.
One person from each category was gathered to form a group of three.
But with Moyong Ha gone, one incomplete group had been left with only a strong contestant and a weak contestant.
A kind of repechage was held for the vacant spot.
'...I can't let this chance slip away.'
Won Huiseung gritted his teeth.
Then...
“Raaaaah!”
Won Huiseung defeated every challenger and claimed the vacant place. He then defeated both the strong and weak contestants in that group, finally securing one of the Twelve Earthly Branches.
Watching him roar with laughter, people marveled at his achievement.
As expected of Zhongnan.
The strength of a great orthodox sect was incredible!
Yeon Sowol felt good.
'Seriously. They all got a spot.'
Namgung Ujin and Hwangbo Hwi were companions who had helped him greatly while preparing for this tournament. Seeing them succeed made him happier than he had expected.
Won Huiseung was his friend, so that went without saying.
Yeon Sowol's turn came only after all his companions had entered the Twelve Earthly Branches.
His match was the very last.
There were no surprises.
“It was a good match.”
“...It was a good match, Young Hero Yeon... No. Great Hero Yeon.”
Yeon Sowol defeated the other two members of his group in turn and proudly placed his name among the Twelve Earthly Branches.
Murmur, murmur.
Buzz, buzz.
The venue was both loud and quiet.
People chattered as they pleased, yet every so often they held their breath and watched the platform for any movement.
The intense days were finally nearing their end.
Hundreds of martial artists had entered the martial arts tournament.
Only twelve name plaques remained on the platform.
Now, only those anyone could call masters among masters remained.
In Hunan's Jianghu, where there had been endless talk of who was strong and who was weak, it had become more or less clear who was genuine and who was merely chaff.
Most people were deeply moved, lingering in the afterglow of it all.
Martial arts.
The act of surpassing humanity with a human body.
There was something impossible to put into words about the honest, desperate clashes of martial artists who had spent their entire lives silently honing such transcendent skills.
A presence that overwhelmed and captivated others.
Still, whenever people gathered in one place, there were always shallow-minded fools among them.
Especially in this ancient parallel-universe China, where their numbers seemed considerably higher than in the twenty-first century.
“Ah, so experience and all that crap don't matter in the end! Talent and background are what matter most!”
“That’s right! Won Huiseung is from Zhongnan. The Amorous Hero is from the Hwangbo Family. Namgung Ujin is a Namgung. Aren’t all the masters who were supposedly so great in Hunan and Yuezhou getting knocked out while these young masters advance?”
“It was kind of fun watching all those people who strutted around Hunan get their asses kicked by youngsters. Heh heh.”
“Kang In-su and his Iron Sand Palm made it into the Twelve Earthly Branches after all.”
“Where are all those bastards who kept saying bare hands could never beat weapons?”
“They're all lying down after getting beaten senseless by Iron Sand Palm. Don't go looking for them.”
They openly mocked the losers as they looked over the results.
There were not many people like that, but ugly words always carried farther.
The expressions of the Jianghu martial artists darkened as they heard the voices around them.
In that atmosphere, Yeon Sowol stepped onto the platform.
Murmur, murmur, murmur.
Murmur...
Mur...
...
The venue fell silent at Yeon Sowol's appearance alone.
The sound of people swallowing. The distant lapping of Dongting Lake.
“Today, twelve masters have finally been chosen. Out of 389 masters gathered from all across Hunan, only twelve remain! Like the twelve directions that divide the world, like the twelve signs of the zodiac, each of them can be called a star looking down upon Hunan's Jianghu.”
The venue was silent.
Yet everyone jerked as though goosebumps had risen across their bodies.
“But the twelve stars do not shine alone. Just as stars in the sky form constellations and shine together, the ones who illuminate the Twelve Earthly Branches standing here are the 377 masters who left this platform before them.”
Yeon Sowol's gaze lowered beneath the platform.
The martial artists who had failed to leave their names among the Twelve Earthly Branches and had been eliminated before reaching this point.
Yet they had not left Yuezhou because they were eliminated, nor had they stopped coming to the tournament grounds.
Though they had descended from the platform after painful defeats, they remained the most passionate spectators. They watched the matches with sweaty palms and cheered until their throats gave out.
Yeon Sowol knew exactly why.
'In the end, we're all martial artists.'
Who but another martial artist could understand a martial artist's pain and joy?
The hardships of an inner cultivation method.
The fear of closed-door seclusion.
The dizzying sensation of unleashing martial force.
Whether they won.
Or lost.
They were all people of the Jianghu who had endured that process and refined themselves.
How could he not respect them?
'I need to settle this.'
Yeon Sowol knew there were people among the spectators who casually judged others, mocked the defeated, and humiliated them.
In truth, he had helped create that atmosphere to a degree.
Yeon Sowol himself had deliberately spread provocative rumors to make the martial arts tournament a success.
The one who tied the knot must untie it.
With all his heart, Yeon Sowol addressed everyone.
“The sword of Senior Ho Gwangil, the Lake Sword, remains vivid at my fingertips even now. His sword qi scattered like ripples on water, making it impossible to grasp. Yet the martial force within it was so immense that every joint in my fingers tingled.”
Ho Gwangil had been Yeon Sowol's first opponent in this martial arts tournament. Through his sword, Yeon Sowol had learned the power of a unique interpretation of qi and its delicate application.
“My fight with Storm Thrust Ryu Cheon was brief but fierce. He brought the nature of wind boldly to life, making it fast and powerful at once. I still remember the fierce wind that curved as it struck and the spear tip that accelerated with astonishing speed. It was a spear that could only be achieved through more than ten thousand repetitions of training every day. Because I was able to contend with such a spear, I too could clearly see the path I needed to walk.”
In truth, his match with Ryu Cheon had ended in only five exchanges.
At the time, Yeon Sowol had even felt a little disappointed by Ryu Cheon's shallow interpretation of wind qi.
But looking back, he had learned from that too.
Yeon Sowol sincerely believed that.
Its depth might have been shallow, but it was a spear art honed through straightforward, stubborn effort. By clashing with it, Yeon Sowol had been able to see with perfect clarity what kind of sword he should pursue, using it as a lesson by contrast.
Had Storm Thrust's spear not been so honestly refined to that level, it could not have served as such a clear point of reference.
So, truly...
'Thank you, all of you.'
A smile formed on Yeon Sowol's lips.
One by one, he named the opponents he had faced during the tournament.
Like a master chef or a master of the tea ceremony, he precisely explained every meaning and subtlety in the martial arts his opponents had displayed, revealing their worth. Everyone listening nodded and exclaimed in admiration.
“He remembers it in such detail.”
“There isn't a single mistake in how he explains the meaning of their martial arts.”
“He didn't miss the deeper meaning even in martial arts he only faced once.”
That admiration soon became pride.
Though I lost, it only means the winner was remarkable. It does not mean I was pathetic.
I too walked my own path. The difficult path of a martial artist.
That was exactly what Yeon Sowol wanted to tell them all.
“If the Twelve Earthly Branches could have easily defeated everyone and reached this place, how could their positions hold any value? Each of the 377 masters who stepped down before us devoted their entire lives to honing their martial arts. Because of their brilliant achievements, glory follows us Twelve Earthly Branches, who collided with them and survived to the end.”
Tremble...
Everyone still kept their mouths shut, but their emotion became a tremor that swept through the venue.
Some people opened their reddened eyes wide.
Yeon Sowol extended a hand toward the eliminated contestants and cupped his fist.
“It was a good match. I learned a great deal.”
The moment he finished speaking,
Rustle, rustle, rustle!
The martial artists who had been eliminated and sat in the stands rose as one. They returned Yeon Sowol's salute and shouted.
“It was a good match, Great Hero Yeon!”
Following Yeon Sowol's lead, the other eleven masters chosen as the Twelve Earthly Branches cupped their fists as well. Smiles appeared on their faces.
A strange feeling came over Yeon Sowol.
'Actually, I did this for Ha...'
Now, he wasn't so sure.
Looking at the hundreds of martial artists returning one another's salutes.
'It almost feels like I'm the one receiving a gift.'
His lips kept threatening to curl upward in an undignified smile, so Yeon Sowol kept biting the inside of his mouth.
'Ha. Is everything going well? I wish you could see this too.'
He was not especially worried.
For some reason, he felt as though everything would go well tonight.
Then, as he happened to lift his head, Yeon Sowol saw her.
⌜Seriously, you sure know how to make a pretty speech⌟
At the top of the basin overlooking the platform, Moyong Ha had somehow returned. She sat on the high platform where the bronze brazier rested, swinging her legs.
Her voice transmission was full of laughter.
'You're back!'
Across the basin filled with countless people, Yeon Sowol and Moyong Ha looked at each other and smiled.
Footnotes:
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