WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈
Chapter 276: Orthodox Faction (1)
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1.
He had never been suited to the Orthodox Faction in the first place.
2.
-.......
Day 61 of closed-door cultivation.
Viper stared blankly with his mouth hanging open.
-This isn't right...
A droplet of water fell from the cave ceiling.
Long ago, he had heard the King of Death laugh and joke that he had trained while fasting for dozens of days. Viper took the remark seriously and continued fasting for sixty straight days, but with each passing day, it was not only his stomach that emptied. His brain was emptying too. He felt himself growing stupid.
-No, this can't be right... I can't even imagine the King of Death seriously practicing fasting... This kind of training seems like a waste of time, life, and brain cells.
Congratulations.
It was the moment of realization.
-Damn it!
That day, Viper abandoned his 60-day fasting and went down to the Ghost Tribe village to feast. Pork hocks, fried dishes, noodles, the village was abundant with cuisine he had introduced. After making up for his missed meals over the course of 5 days, he sat in his cave, despondent, feeling like a dieter who couldn't beat the yo-yo effect.
-How can I defeat that guy?
He had wasted 60 days.
It was a depressing thought, but fortunately or unfortunately, Viper had plenty of time left.
A lot of time.
-.......
At least 60 years.
60 years.
Just barely.
-What should I do… Damn, how should I...
The only thing his 60-day fasting left him was a habit of talking to himself.
Viper groaned as he stared at the cave wall, hoping for some incredible martial arts epiphany to be miraculously inscribed there, but that fantasy never materialized.
Viper was not the protagonist.
-.......
Perhaps.
It should have been him, not the King of Death, who joined the Demonic Cult.
-... Yeah. It's all been wrong from the start.
Thinking of King of Death's brightly shining smile, Viper chuckled to himself.
-No matter how you look at him, the Orthodox Faction suits that kid. Not me... I can concede the part about making the world a little better, but saving the people of the tower and all that is completely against my nature. I only care for chivalry...
Viper threw a stone against the cave wall.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
-Right.
Four days.
He did nothing, thought nothing, and nothing changed, an empty time outside, called four days by the pace of the clock hands. In the cave, without a way to measure time, only the pockmarks on the wall, the traces of the stones Viper threw, marked the passing time.
-I was never meant for the Orthodox Faction.
Thud.
-Even choosing to study under old man Namgung Woon instead of the Heavenly Demon was not because his martial arts particularly impressed me. I merely wanted to spend some time learning... and go along with what Kim Gong-Ja was doing, in the hope that the two elders could have an easier time on the road ahead... That was good in its own way.
Thud.
-But it was rather half-hearted. Especially compared to him.
Thud.
-.......
Thud.
-I've lived a half-hearted life.
Thud.
-Wow, did I really live my life half-heartedly? I thought I was diligent. Did I just drift here without doing anything decisive? Shit. I reached Hunter Rank 6 and became the Master of the Celestial Martial Clan so easily. Am I a genius? What if I hadn't lived half-heartedly? The Tower would have collapsed.
Thud.
-.......
Tap.
-Yeah. I could have brought down the Tower.
Thud.
-Being Rank 6 doesn't mean much. Will my achievements or titles be remembered? Maybe for 3 years, at most 6 years.
After 6 years, my name and alias will be forgotten.
Thud.
-Being the Celestial Martial Clan Master is only impressive in the Tower. Drop it in the real martial world, and it would barely be a mid-sized sect. It’ll just be a place where I gather kids to tell them not to wave their swords in the streets, to train themselves instead of fighting...
Thud.
-I've lived half-heartedly.
Thud.
-.......
Tap.
-Shit. Die. All of you can go fucking die.
Thud.
-.......
Thud.
Day 260 of closed-door cultivation.
The opposite wall of the cave where Viper meditated was ravaged by the stones he had thrown. It looked as if a bomb had exploded there, with craters and blemishes all over. He had thrown the stones merely to clear his mind, or rather, to vent his thoughts.
Who am I?
How did I end up here?
What did I miss on the way here?
What did I manage to hold onto?
What exactly were those things?
-.......
260 days.
That was how much time Viper needed to compile his life.
He made the hour hand his warp and the minute hand his weft, weaving a sieve out of time. Through that sieve he shook away every useless thing: distracting thoughts, stray notions, stress, crumbs of thought and emotion, and the fat and flab that had intruded upon his life. When something refused to shake loose, he threw a stone and smashed it apart.
-.......
After shaking everything off, only one main concern remained.
-I need to beat the King of Death.
With just a sword?
No.
The Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven he inherited. A sword imbued with the cries of the common people.
The King of Death always modestly refers to himself as Vice-Lord, speaking of his master with bright eyes, perhaps even sparkling ones, but Viper saw it differently. Yes. Viper knew something that others, perhaps even the King of Death himself, didn't know.
-Defeating the King of Death doesn't just mean overcoming the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.
Once upon a time.
The unnamed first Heavenly Demon wandered the martial realm and created the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven. They heard the endless deaths, screams, and moans that filled the world.
How could a sword made and wielded by humans in such a world be anything special? Praising a sword as noble when it's disconnected from the world means it can only cut illusions, futility, and emptiness, not reality.
A sword that doesn't cut reality is merely decoration, not a true sword.
To cut the world, the sword must first contain the world within it. The world now consists only of screams, moans, and blood. Therefore, a sword of the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven must naturally scream, moan, and bleed.
-.......
King of Death.
He spread the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven to all of the Earth Spirit Tribe.
He infected them.
-…Terrifying.
King of Death's Demonic Formations Art is not just an upgrade of the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven. Even if the King of Death began with simple motivations like coming up with a new idea or thinking how wonderful it would be to share the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven with others.
Absolutely not.
-Distributing the burden of a single Heavenly Demon among hundreds of thousands of common people…
Viper's eyes darkened.
The Heavenly Demon was exalted but alone. The followers not only revered the Heavenly Demon as a leader but also as a living myth, a deity. The Heavenly Demon's words were law, her actions history.
Only the Heavenly Demon could fully unleash the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.
But formations are different.
Anyone somewhat familiar with the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven can participate in the formations. There's no need to embody the screams of all people. Just be true to one's role, like an actor in a troupe, blending into the formation and performing just that one part.
-Sigh...
King of Death is merely the conductor of the first orchestra.
The Demonic Formations Art can unfold without the King of Death. It changes and renews itself with each participation, depending on who joins and whom they choose to embody and cry out for. Uburka could be the conductor of the second orchestra, Seimslam of the third.
He has shared it.
The burden, mission, role, status, and thus, power.
-If only he had simply followed in the footsteps of the Heavenly Demon, he would have been easier to defeat…
There are others in the world who've been wounded, not just me.
I am not the one with the deepest scars, nor the most agonizing pain.
I stand at the head of the Demonic Heaven only because I happen to express its pain well.
Literally, I am just a Vice-Lord.
-What should I do?
Slowly.
Viper stood up.
-How can I defeat him… Huh?
He mumbled to himself, leaving the cave.
There was no longer any need to force himself into solitude.
He had firmly settled within himself.
-What to do…
His emotions, past, regrets, pride, sighs, all tangled, kneaded, and knotted into a gloomy mass within his heart, weighing a hundred pounds.
This dark mass was himself.
-Hmm.
Even if he went to the village for a drink, chatted with the Ghost Tribe children, wandered the streets alone, or climbed a mountain, the dark mass in his heart remained, constantly reminding him of his [self].
The Viper in his heart flicked its tongue strangely.
-How to defeat the King of Death.
282 days.
Viper emerged from seclusion.
3.
Claaang!
Swords and blades collide.
“Argh...!”
A sharp metallic sound rang.
But Viper only has one sword forged by hammering metal. I am different. There are four more shadow-blades lurking in the shadows.
“Damn it! Y-You underhanded bastard!”
The swords flew solely through my Flying Ki Sword Technique, vibrating with an ominous blackness steeped in the color of shadow. Considering that I was the Vice-Lord of the Demonic Cult, no one could object if they were called demonic swords. One holy sword and four demonic swords. I wrapped them around myself like a shield and charged.
“Even if! Even if I am no easy opponent! This is...”
He was getting desperate.
“This is not fair! Fuck! Flying Ki Sword, what... No, is that even truly Flying Ki Sword!? Sword control is supposed to send real swords flying!”
-To be precise, it is a form of sword control permitted only to this bastard Kim Zombie.
Guardian Spirit commented. He had been quietly observing our duel from a distance. Unfortunately, his response was impossible for Viper to hear.
-Kim Zombie summoned each of the swords held within the [Goddess of Protection]. He makes bodies for them out of aura, then supplies still more aura as fuel so they can move... The problem is that these things are pieces of a Constellation. They think very well. In other words, they are ego swords. They fight perfectly well on their own. Five ego swords fly around scattering aura, and Kim Zombie calls that Flying Ki Sword. Hmm. Yes. Extremely Kim Gong-Ja-like...
“This crazy bastard!”
-Yeah, that’s what I meant. Even when I talk to myself, sometimes my intentions get across. The world is getting better each day~
Despite their chatter, it had no relevance to the current battle.
I just need to swing my sword.
I can't be distracted by the surrounding noises and voices. Right now, I only focus on Viper, while relentlessly attacking.
“Damn!”
Viper’s fierce slash was automatically parried by the [Pity Sword].
A waist-targeting strike was blocked by the [Prayer Sword].
An attempt to slice the wrist was deflected by the [Sacrifice Sword].
Then, rushing into Viper's exposed bosom,
“Damn you!”
I cut.
The sound of blood rang out, shaaak.
‘Shallow.’
It is not a fatal wound. Viper hurriedly backsteps out of reach. A few drops of blood cling to the blade, but that is all. Just as when sword and blade collided, a metallic claaang rings out, then trails away with a long hissing echo.
"......."
Again.
I furrowed my brows, sensing something strange.
‘I heard metal again.’
It’s natural to hear metallic sounds when a sword and a blade clash, but not now. Not in this case.
Because the shadow-blades aren't made of metal but of shadows.
Purely aura-made shadow-blades, even if they clash with Viper's sword, shouldn't make a metallic sound. It’s almost silent. At most, they should make a sound like something melting or being bitten.
If the metallic sounds aren’t coming from my blades, then.
‘Viper.’
It must be the moans from the opponent's sword.
‘What kind of training have you undergone for your sword to cry out?’
I quietly observe Viper standing before me.
“Hoo, huff... Haah, hoo… hoo…”
Viper is bleeding and drawing ragged breaths.
With a smile on his lips.
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