WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: BerageeBomb
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◈ I Obtained the Martial God’s Book ◈
Chapter 18: Kindness
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“Ha! With eyes as sharp as yours, you could make a living gathering wild ginseng or medicinal herbs for the rest of your life.”
Elder Bae laughed heartily, then finished explaining the effects of the remaining herbs.
Once the herb lesson was over, he moved on to ways of surviving in the mountains.
“If you ever urgently need drinking water deep in the mountains, watch the birds at dawn. Follow the direction in which they fly low in flocks, and you’re sure to find water.”
“When picking mushrooms for food, always avoid the brightly colored ones. Choose the plain-looking ones that insects have eaten instead. A mushroom so poisonous that even tiny insects avoid it will melt a person’s insides, too.”
These were secrets of the mountains that money could not buy at a martial sect.
Yet Elder Bae shared them freely.
“Elder, are you sure you can give me such valuable knowledge without asking anything in return?”
“I’ve been coming to this village to hand out herbs and share meals for decades. For an old man without a single relative, this village is as good as a second home.”
Elder Bae took a long, satisfying drink of cloudy rice wine.
“A few days ago, that monster nearly left this precious second home of mine empty. If the village disappeared, it would leave this old man empty inside, too. So these lessons aren’t payment in a trade. They’re the affection one person feels for another.”
Humbled, I silently picked up the next herb.
It was the night before I left the village.
Sitting alone in the barn, I examined my body.
Dark scabs had formed over the tooth marks where the beast had bitten my left forearm.
The shallow sword wound on my shin was also healing nicely.
Following what I had learned that afternoon, I chewed some bloodstop herb and pressed it over the places that were still oozing.
The burning sting faded with surprising speed.
What I had learned was already earning its keep.
I calmly went over what lay ahead.
Covering the remaining ninety li and finding the cave at Heartbreak Cliff would not be the end.
The real hardship would begin after that.
I had to decipher the countless sword marks carved into the stone walls.
Then I had to engrave the principles of the Ghost Sword Art into my body.
There was no way to know how long it would take.
I would be working a Transcendent Pinnacle sword art into my very bones. It would take at least a few years.
I would have to spend this entire snowy winter in that cave.
With that in mind, nothing felt more reassuring than the food the villagers had promised to pack for me.
Those supplies would buy me the time I needed to master the art this fated opportunity offered.
That night, as I drifted in and out of sleep, the golden character shone unusually brightly.
[Martial]
A thread extending from the character touched my fingertips and trembled gently.
Something inside me seemed to know that my destination was drawing near.
* * *
It was the morning of my departure.
The villagers came out, young and old, men and women alike, to pack my bundle.
The load on my shoulder was surprisingly substantial.
It held two sacks of roasted grain powder, a bundle of salted, dried tiger meat, and precious white salt.
There were also oil-soaked fire tubes that could start a fire even in a snowstorm, along with three spare pairs of straw sandals.
Above all, there was a glossy roe-deer-hide vest.
“Elders, these things are far too precious...”
“You insist on crossing that rugged Black Fang Mountain even with winter nearly upon us. The wind coming straight at you along those ridges is fierce enough to scrape your bones bare. You’ll need at least that much on your back to keep from dying out there.”
Two coils of tough rope as thick as my thumb were added to the load.
I had neither thought of them nor asked for them.
That was Elder Bae’s thoughtfulness.
“If you mean to climb up and down that infamous Black Fang Mountain on your own two feet, you’ll need these ropes. It’s a nasty mountain without anything you could call a proper trail. More than half the way, you’ll have to climb up and down sheer rock faces. Give him two coils of the strongest rope, the kind made from layers of twisted hemp bark.”
These supplies were worth more than silver taels.
This time, I bowed my head without refusing.
“I’ll accept them, though I feel I’m imposing. I’ll use them gratefully to keep myself alive.”
“Hoho. As long as you go your way in one piece, that’s enough.”
The people seeing me off followed me out of the village to the foot of the mountains.
Dallae led the way, taking quick little steps on her short legs.
“Uncle Jang Sam.”
When we reached the mountain entrance, the child held out a well-worn cotton pouch.
“What’s all this?”
“Sweet boiled chestnuts. For you to eat on your way.”
“What are these payment for? Didn’t you already pay for the jujubes with that one chestnut?”
“These aren’t payment for protecting the village. They’re payment for teaching that scary Mountain Lord monster a lesson! Nobody in this village keeps accounts faster than Dallae!”
The pouch felt quite heavy in my hand.
She must have stayed up by the brazier last night, boiling them all and filling the pouch.
“Thank you. If I ever pass through these mountains again, I’ll bring you a mountain of your favorite jujubes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“You have to! Pinky promise!”
It was a promise I could not be sure I would keep.
Ever since falling into this world, I had avoided making promises I might not be able to keep.
But I wanted to make this one to her.
With cloth wrapped around his shoulder, Insu placed his good arm against his chest and bowed deeply.
Elder Bae patted my pack with his broad palm, looking reluctant to see me go.
“Tie that bundle on tight. And remember this, Jang Sam.”
“Yes, Elder. I’m listening.”
“In the mountains, the mountain is the absolute master. The most vicious master of this mountain may have died a few days ago, but the mountain itself still rules. If you’re climbing a steep cliff and feel there’s even a thirty-percent chance you might slip, don’t force it. Turn back. There’s no business anywhere in this world more important than your life.”
“Yes. I’ll carve that into my bones.”
Elder Bae never pressed me about why I wanted to enter Black Fang Mountain. He simply seemed to be wishing for my safety.
I clasped my hands in salute and bowed toward the village, then turned north.
Dallae’s clear voice rang out behind me as I walked away.
“Uncle Jang Sam! Goodbye! Don’t get hurt, and make sure you come back!”
I did not look back.
Instead, I raised a hand high and waved in reply, then continued on.
* * *
I walked for another day and a half.
Once I left the village and entered the deeper mountain range, the path quickly grew rough.
As I approached the entrance to Black Fang Mountain, strange things began to catch my eye.
Tracks from animals large and small covered the ground among grass that had grown as high as a person’s waist.
Roe deer, wild boars, and large mountain hares.
According to Elder Bae, those tracks should not have been there.
He had said that roe deer never went near a man-eating tiger’s path.
What was more, every track was still damp.
They were a day or two old at most.
The animals seemed to have realized that the mountain’s master was dead before people did.
All the mountain’s creatures were returning to their proper places.
At noon on my second day of climbing, I reached a place where the forest abruptly ended.
The bare bones of Black Fang Mountain stood fully exposed.
My feet stopped before I knew it.
From a distance, it had been a rugged mountain with a few black teeth jutting into the air.
Standing at its foot and looking up was different.
Those were not teeth. It was the gaping mouth of a gigantic beast, ready to bite into the sky.
Black cliffs rose in layer upon layer, eating away half the heavens.
They were walls of solid rock, without enough soil for even a single tree to take root.
Ridges as sharp as the backs of blades connected one cliff to another.
Every place that might be called a valley was a black gorge whose bottom I could not make out.
My only clue was that it was on a northern cliff.
I worked out where north lay from the sun’s path.
The northern side was beyond that ridge, hidden from view.
I had no choice but to cross the steep ridge and search the bases of the cliffs on the northern slope, ruling them out one by one.
It was a daunting task that might take three days or fifteen.
Elder Bae had been right.
This was a vicious mountain with nowhere that could be called a path for human feet.
The two coils of rope on my shoulder suddenly felt heavier.
I closed the collar of my roe-deer-hide vest against the cold mountain wind.
The former master who had ruled this mountain as a tyrant was dead.
Now only the mountain and I remained.
“Let’s go.”
The final piece of my three-hundred-li journey stood before my eyes.
* * *
Black Fang Mountain bared its teeth from the very first step.
The slope was covered in sharp, loose rocks that had tumbled down the mountain.
Where the loose rocks ended, solid rock walls blocked my way.
As I climbed, the fingertips gripping the stone split and bled.
The soles of the new straw sandals I had received in the village were worn to tatters in a single day.
When I reached the top of the ridge, the mountain wind slapped my cheeks and pushed my body toward the drop.
Without the extra layer of roe deer hide, my skin would have been torn raw and the cold would have soaked into my bones.
Once, a sudden gust lifted me halfway off the ground.
I threw my arms around a sharp corner of rock and held on.
Even after the gust passed, I could not let go for some time.
At the first cliff, I took out a rope.
I wrapped it around the base of a thick pine tree and pulled against it with my full weight, again and again.
‘If there’s even a thirty-percent chance of slipping, don’t force it. Turn back.’
Elder Bae’s warning lingered in my ears.
It took half a day just to lower myself down one cliff dozens of body lengths high.
The rough hemp bark rubbed my palms red and raw.
At the second cliff, I learned how to retrieve the rope.
Instead of tying it to the tree, I folded it in half, looped the doubled rope around the trunk, and climbed down.
Once I reached the bottom, I pulled on one end, and the rope slipped free and fell after me.
Only then did I understand why the old man had made sure to give me two coils.
Folding a rope in half cut its reach by half.
Now and then, as I made my way through, I came across herds of roe deer.
They did not run even when they saw me.
They merely tilted their heads and watched me with their large eyes.
The animals deep in this mountain seemed unfamiliar with the beast called a human.
That was how long it had been since people had come here.
When the sun went down, I searched for somewhere to sleep.
I curled up like an animal beneath a large rock that sheltered me from the wind.
I kept my campfire small for fear of starting a forest fire.
Once a piece of resin-rich pine the size of my palm burned away, only darkness remained.
In that darkness, I chewed a handful of dry roasted grain powder, moistening it with saliva until I could swallow.
I carefully rationed the chestnuts Dallae had boiled for me, peeling and eating only two a day.
Deep into the night, great streams of stars flowed majestically above the ridges.
At dawn, frost settled on the collar of my vest.
Winter was curling up on the mountaintop before it reached the foot of the mountain.
I spent two days crossing the mountain like that, wearing myself down.
At dawn on the third day, the northern slope of Black Fang Mountain finally spread out beneath my feet.
When the clouds cleared, my breath caught.
Everywhere I looked, there were nothing but sheer cliffs.
Black rock walls stood packed together like folding screens.
Cool shadows filled every valley where the sunlight could not reach.
I counted the cliffs by eye.
There were more than thirty.
So much for the clue about a northern cliff. The entire northern foot of the mountain was a field of cliffs.
* * *
I started with the most mindless but certain method.
I climbed down a rope to the base of the nearest cliff.
Cutting away the tangled brush with my sword, I searched every inch.
If I found nothing, I climbed back up the rock face and moved to the next cliff.
Thorns pierced my roe-deer-hide vest and left scratches all over my arms and thighs.
The shaded places beyond the sun’s reach gave me the most trouble.
From a distance, they looked exactly like cave entrances.
Full of hope, I would approach and clear away the brush, only to find an ordinary shadow.
Or it would be a hollow in the rock, or an animal’s den barely large enough for a fox.
Searching even the smallest cliff took half a day.
At this rate, it would take fifteen days to search all thirty.
During those fifteen days, the frost that formed each night would turn to snow.
Once snow covered the mountain, it would bury the edges of the brush and the cave entrance, wiping them from sight for good.
The days were also growing shorter.
Impatience crept up from my toes like a cold snake and tightened around my throat.
I wasted two days trying to force my way through with sheer effort.
That night, beneath a cramped rock overhang, I hugged my knees and gathered my thoughts.
If covering more ground would not give me an answer, I had to use my head to narrow the search.
I carefully went back over my memories of the game I had played from the other side of the screen.
[Hidden Fated Opportunity: You have discovered the resting place of the Ghost Sword Demon Venerable.]
I could even see the bold line of text that had appeared in the middle of the monitor.
That memory gave me my first key.
The wandering martial vagabond who had found the fated opportunity was no expert with internal energy.
Calling that bottom-rung drifter of a swordsman third-rate would have been generous.
Yet someone like that had survived a fall from a cliff.
I recalled the short cutscene in the game where the wandering martial vagabond fell.
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