WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ Raised by a Ruthless Swordsman ◈

Chapter 21: A Fish in Troubled Waters

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There was no time to think about what was happening.

As Yang Hyeon fell sideways, the sword that had seemed ready to cut through the space he had occupied changed course and swept horizontally at my side, giving me no time to catch my breath.

I hurriedly brought my sword down and blocked its path again.

Clang.

The one I had knocked away from the front twisted in midair and landed without a sound. Without a single stumble, they planted their feet and thrust at my other shoulder.

As I deflected that sword and took a step back, I realized it.

These people were not bandits.

Most of the men from earlier in the day had used sabres. Even then, all they could do was crush their opponents with brute force or swing wildly. Not even the giant who had thrust his spear so fiercely had displayed this level of precision.

As I hurriedly stepped back, I faintly heard dull sounds from far behind me.

Thud. Thud.

It was the sound of bodies collapsing onto the dirt almost simultaneously. I did not need to turn around. It had to be the two escorts guarding the entrance on the other side.

There had not even been a scream.

But again, I had no time to assess the situation. The two opponents split left and right, then rushed in at once as if they had planned it.

When one sword fell diagonally from above, the other hid in its shadow and swept low. If I blocked one, it slid away, and another path sprang up in its wake.

The sword tips never stayed in one place. Like flower petals scattered by the wind, the swords branched out in every direction.

It was a sword art I had never seen before, but I could vaguely tell that the skill behind it was by no means inferior to the swordsmanship I had learned.

Two swords that would have been difficult enough on their own came flying at me.

I was too busy blocking, deflecting, and turning them aside to find any opening to counterattack. In moments, my clothes were torn in several places and fluttered in the wind, while shallow cuts opened beneath them.

Thin streams of blood seeped from my arms and sides wherever a sword tip had grazed me.

Then Yang Hyeon, whom I had shoved aside, got to his feet. He drew his broad sabre and seemed about to raise his voice.

"A—"

But the sound was cut off before it could properly leave his mouth. As though one of them had noticed, they turned toward him and sent their sword flashing at Yang Hyeon, seemingly intent on silencing him.

Yang Hyeon gritted his teeth and blocked it once with his sabre. But it was obvious he would not last many exchanges.

There was no time to hesitate. One use at a crucial moment. If not now, then when?

I drew up my Inner Energy from my dantian.

The energy I had saved spread through my whole body at once. My vision cleared even in the darkness, and my body became noticeably lighter.

First, I struck hard at the blade of the sword pressing me. The swiftly flowing sword was knocked far aside by the blow infused with Inner Energy, and my opponent's balance shifted backward for an instant.

That was enough.

Without delay, I lowered my body and slipped in beside the one still attacking Yang Hyeon, cutting upward from below at their left ankle. They twisted as though they had noticed and meant to react, but my sword was faster.

Swish.

A beat after my sword passed, blood spurted up.

The instant they flinched and lost their balance, I did not stop. I let my sword travel upward, aiming for the back of their neck.

But that was as far as I got. The other opponent's sword shot in from the side and blocked mine.

I judged the situation quickly. It would be difficult to strike down the one who had been attacking Yang Hyeon now. Then...

I planted my foot hard and halted my rushing body. Then I angled away the sword blocking mine, disrupting the balance of the one holding it.

As their upper body tilted under the pull of their own force, I slipped into the opening and slashed at the exposed wrist.

I should have been able to sever it.

But just before my sword touched them, their tilting upper body flowed with the force of its fall instead.

Rather than forcefully holding their ground, they threw themselves with the collapse and slipped sideways. At the same time, they hurriedly drew the arm holding their sword inward.

The sword that should have severed their wrist only cut shallowly into the flesh of their other forearm.

Swish.

A thin line of blood rose after it, but that was all. The wrist that should have fallen away remained intact, still gripping the sword.

Alarm crossed their face.

I was just as startled. That wrist should have been cut off.

But I had no time to show it. If I stopped, they would become two again. If I gave them even a moment to recover, I would be at a disadvantage.

Without withdrawing my Inner Energy, I kicked off the ground hard and continued the circle I had been drawing without breaking its flow.

The uninjured opponent recovered and sent their sword flying at me. As if one sword had scattered into five branches, its tip spread out to target my shoulder, side, and thigh all at once.

I angled my sword and swept the incoming branches in a circle from the inside out.

The scattered sword tips followed the flow of my circle, gathering into a single line and sliding away to the side.

At the end of that deflection, I did not stop my sword. I wound it around and drove its tip toward their exposed chest.

They bent backward at the waist, barely avoiding the tip. Then, using the rebound as they straightened, they flicked their sword and counterattacked at once.

The sword scattered into branches again. It was impossible to predict.

But after several exchanges, I could make out its Sword Path to some extent. No matter how many branches their sword made, they all came from the same body.

Rather than follow the branches, I watched only the wrist and shoulder from which they sprang. The more splendid the changes, the more tightly their root was bound to one place.

I cut toward that root.

They jerked their sword back to block. The sword that had blossomed so brilliantly died in an instant, becoming one that could only defend in haste.

I did not miss that moment and pressed my sword deeper.

Once I seized their flow, even those splendid changes faded on their own. They blocked, then blocked again. Their feet were gradually pushed backward.

The one whose ankle I had cut limped closer as though to help their companion. But with that leg, they could not keep up with the speed at which the uninjured one was being driven back.

The distance between them steadily widened.

I forced my way into that gap and pressed only the uninjured one harder, herding them where their limping companion could not intervene.

I could feel my dantian emptying quickly.

"Night attack!"

Yang Hyeon's voice burst out from far behind me at just the right moment. With his booming voice, he shook the air.

Soon, commotion stirred from deeper inside the camp. Shouts from people dragged awake, the sounds of hands searching for sword sheaths, and screams rose in confusion.

How many more of them had entered?

The thought flashed through my mind, but I had no time to dwell on it.

From one circle to the next, changing their size, I continued linking my sword movements.

My opponent endured fiercely without tiring, but then their sword was suddenly half a beat slow.

I entered that half-beat and thrust.

My sword pierced their throat, its tip emerging from the back.

They dropped their sword. Their hand groped at their throat, then fell limp. I pulled my sword from their body and turned around.

The other opponent, who had only just closed the distance, faltered upon seeing their companion collapse.

Finishing the remaining opponent was not very difficult. With their ankle injured, their sword could not bloom as brilliantly as their companion's.

Slice.

My sword cut long across their side, and they fell to the dirt, motionless.

I was gasping for breath. When I hurriedly checked my dantian, only a little more than three-tenths remained.

Only then did a chill run down my spine.

I remembered how their sword had been half a beat slow at the final moment. Until then, it had not been off by even an inch. Even after I had taken their flow, they had somehow blocked every sword I sent at them.

Yet only at the end did their sword suddenly grow dull.

Perhaps their Inner Energy had been running dry as well.

That half-beat had separated them from me.

If their Inner Energy had been just a little deeper. Or if I had not cut the second opponent's ankle first.

If either had been true, I would have been the one lying on the dirt with a sword through my throat.

Then a loud shout erupted behind me.

"What is the meaning of this?"

I turned toward the voice.

The agency head had risen at some point and was standing before the carriage with that splendid sword drawn.

"Even if you are Mount Hua Sect, do you think you can do something like this and walk away unscathed?"

My thoughts tangled at once.

The agency head knew who they were. How?

I looked toward the two bodies sprawled on the ground. Only then did I properly take in their appearance.

Both wore black martial attire. The color blended into the darkness, but the fine cloth and neat tailoring showed that these were not clothes thrown on carelessly.

Both had their hair neatly coiled atop their heads like Daoists.

A flower-like pattern was faintly embroidered over their left breasts. It was half hidden beneath blood, but I could vaguely make out five petals arranged in a circle.

Mount Hua Sect. Was that the emblem of those called Mount Hua Sect?

Had the agency head recognized it as Ma Jeongsan had recognized the emblem on my sword as Wudang?

I looked back toward the agency head.

A man stepped out from the darkness beyond the carriage. He wore the same black martial attire as the two I had cut down, yet he was different somehow. There was no wasted motion in his steps, and no opening in the way he held his lowered sword.

He looked to be around forty. The people beside him each stepped half a pace back, as though he were their leader.

The agency head's face hardened further.

"The Plum Blossom Sword Chief has come."

"I apologize for using excessive measures."

The man called the Plum Blossom Sword Chief spoke in a low, calm voice.

"We received some information. Let us merely look inside that wagon. If there is nothing there, Mount Hua Sect will take responsibility for what happened today."

The agency head shouted in a rough voice.

"The consignment cannot be shown carelessly. You cut down people in the middle of the night, and now you say you will search the wagon? Since when has Mount Hua Sect behaved like common bandits?"

"Ha ha, common bandits?"

The Plum Blossom Sword Chief cut him off. A faint smile rested on his lips.

"You should have kept living as you always have, cleaning up after Nangong. A mere escort agency has grown too greedy."

The color drained from the agency head's face.

There was not much I could understand from their exchange.

Only a few things came together vaguely.

There was something inside that wagon. Because of it, those from Mount Hua Sect had come in the middle of the night with swords drawn.

And the agency head was entangled with another name, Nangong.

I quietly counted the black-clad figures in the darkness. Including their leader, there were five.

Ma Jeongsan was injured, and neither the agency head nor the escort captain seemed strong enough to match even one of them.

There was no chance of winning.

I could not die here before I even returned home.

I glanced around. Where could I escape?

The mountainside was steep, and the riverbank was steeper still. The open entrance was blocked by the black-clad figures.

As I searched for a route, the Plum Blossom Sword Chief lightly raised a hand. In response, the black-clad figures approached the wagon all at once.

Just as the agency head gritted his teeth and prepared to meet them with his sword, the carriage door flew open.

The chief steward sprang out as though flying. The instant his feet touched the ground, he used rapid footwork and rushed at the Plum Blossom Sword Chief in one bound. A sword was already in his hand.

The chief steward used a sword.

That elderly person who had holed themself up in the carriage doing nothing but accounts.

The Plum Blossom Sword Chief jerked his sword up to block. A Clang! rang out, and the two figures crossed once.

"Well, well. Who do we have here?"

For the first time, a smile spread across the Plum Blossom Sword Chief's face as he opened the distance.

"I heard the Cold-Faced Sword was teaching juniors in Anhui."

The Plum Blossom Sword Chief continued in a mocking tone.

"Seeing you here, it seems the rumor that Nangong was involved in the private tea trade was not baseless after all."

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