WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 107: Divine Technique
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The martial artists spoke with one voice.
Their voices, honoring Seom-ye as their founding master, gently stirred the night air.
Each voice, born of well-honed inner-energy cultivation, rang firm and strong.
‘What?’
Something impossible had happened. At least, that was what Ju Yeon-jeong thought.
This was no ordinary matter.
Even White Uniforms were rare across the entire martial world.
The white robes of Desolate Fortress were proof of exceptional martial prowess.
Any official martial artist of the main fortress could serve as a core fighter for any martial sect in the martial world.
And they had gathered to support one person? What could that mean?
“Now.”
Thorns entered Ju Yeon-jeong’s voice.
“What do you think you are doing? How dare you violate the main fortress’s laws before the Desolate Ma family?”
“What purpose do you have in distorting our intentions, Madam Ju?”
A deep voice answered. It belonged to the Annihilation Squad’s Red Noon Sword. The blue robe resembled a military officer’s battle garb.
It looked shabby, as though it had never been carefully maintained, yet it was filled with qi and appeared remarkably sturdy.
“Distorting? What insolence are you directing at me...?”
Ju Yeon-jeong’s eyes sharpened, but Red Noon Sword paid her no mind.
“I can guess why you mentioned the laws. You mean the main fortress’s rule forbidding master-disciple bonds, do you not? It is truly laughable. It is not the law that is laughable, but Madam Ju.”
“Go on, then. Spout more of your sophistry.”
She gave a dismissive snort, though she did not feel that way inside.
Ju Yeon-jeong had wanted to make Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin, into Ma Se-in’s sword.
She had already prepared considerable wealth and weapons, along with rare spiritual medicine.
Though Ju Yeon-jeong belonged to a collateral branch, she was still a member of the imperial family. She knew people like Jeong Yeon-shin. He was not someone who would break an oath.
If she secured his vow of protection, he would undoubtedly become a treasured sword she could use for years to come.
‘Demon Wings has been wiped out. The time was right, so I meant to bring Seom-ye into my embrace, but...’
She had quietly reproached herself for the mistake of raising the matter like a transaction with conditions attached.
Even so, she believed another opportunity remained.
What did Seom-ye have left besides the transcendent Lord of Desolate Fortress, the Ma family of his maternal relatives, and Demon Wings, whose trail had grown faint in Sichuan?
He was a sixteen-year-old boy who had entered the main fortress alone.
In the end, he would have no choice but to rely on her side. Then she could draw him in gently.
Until he could no longer escape her warmth and authority.
That was what Ju Yeon-jeong believed. She had not been wrong.
Not until Red Noon Sword brought these martial artists here and paid respects to Seom-ye.
‘Someone who spent decades as a White Uniform has become a Blue Uniform before I knew it.’
She glared at Red Noon Sword’s scarred face, then caught sight of Jeong Yeon-shin at the edge of her vision.
She did not make her glance obvious. It was meaningless anyway.
The boy’s face was touched by an unfamiliar stir of emotion.
It was slight, but his interest and surprise were unmistakable.
She could understand why. Ju Yeon-jeong was also an expert in martial arts.
The group of martial artists confronting her carried an air similar to Seom-ye’s.
They belonged to the same martial lineage. A bond was inevitable.
‘The variable was martial arts.’
That was also the method Ju Yeon-jeong had used to shake the Desolate Ma family. Yet two things were different.
Seom-ye had not intended for this to happen.
Moreover, he had created a martial lineage himself and begun receiving the honors due a founding master. Here and now.
“...Madam Ju, are you listening?”
Red Noon Sword looked steadily at Ju Yeon-jeong.
She suddenly came to her senses. Nothing went as she wished whenever Seom-ye was involved.
It was only the second time, yet he had already left a powerful impression.
“I’m listening.”
Ju Yeon-jeong lifted her chin with haughty composure. At the very least, she had to maintain her dignity.
No matter what raced through her mind or how the situation changed.
“You said this was not a fist-in-palm salute offered to a master. That is difficult to accept. The respect you showed a Blue Uniform far too young for it was excessive. Can it be explained as anything other than a master-disciple bond? Unless you are openly challenging the main fortress’s taboo.”
Her tone was cold and severe.
Red Noon Sword did not shrink back.
Ju Yeon-jeong held no position in the main fortress. She was not even the mistress of the Desolate Ma family.
She stood far outside the Desolate Fortress hierarchy. Red Noon Sword understood that clearly.
Red Noon Sword, on the other hand, had spent decades as a White Uniform before finally donning blue robes.
It was thanks to mastery of Seom-ye’s recently released Phantom Wing Step.
The second secret of Phantom Wing Step suited Red Noon Sword. Its footwork formula for creating distance fit the life they had lived.
Lazy Donkey Roll.
Red Noon Sword had never hesitated to roll across the ground during a spar.
That meant they had become a master at judging distance in fierce battles.
Phantom Wing Second Step.
Within that formula for creating openings, Red Noon Sword glimpsed a world granted by Heaven.
Red Noon Sword trembled at the footwork formula that fully supplemented their inadequate aptitude.
It was a Divine Technique. At least, it was to Red Noon Sword. It had allowed them to pass the Blue Uniform promotion examination they had taken dozens of times with ease.
That was why.
‘Seom-ye is our benefactor, and he is our founding master.’
Every martial artist gathered here felt the same way.
Red Noon Sword stood firm. This was a matter of Desolate Fortress law.
Their years and standing were more than sufficient.
They parted their lips calmly.
“Madam Ju is a member of the imperial family. The entire world knows that the Ming imperial family favors Buddhist sects. Is there not a reason Shaolin is uniquely powerful among the Nine Great Sects? Especially when even the Young Divine Monk is of the elven race.”
“Do not stray from the point.”
Even Ju Yeon-jeong’s cold voice did not weigh heavily on Red Noon Sword. They continued without concern.
“I understand there is a tradition among members of the imperial family to climb Mount Song as incense pilgrims. Madam Ju must have visited at least once.”
“And?”
“The Pagoda Forest that houses the relics of Shaolin’s eminent monks is one of the temple’s famous sights, is it not? I hear that no member of the imperial family fails to join their palms before Bodhidharma and Zen Master Huike, who entered nirvana, when making offerings.”
Ju Yeon-jeong’s eyes widened.
“You dare...”
“Seom-ye of Demon Wings and we are no different. No, the only small difference is that the founding master of our martial lineage still lives and is young. We are like Shaolin’s incense pilgrims. We offered the respect due to the founding master of our lineage. What main fortress martial artist would be angered by that, unless their heart were twisted in a strange way?”
Red Noon Sword returned Ju Yeon-jeong’s earlier words in the same mocking tone.
Perhaps because she had never suffered such humiliation before.
Defeated in reason and refuted in words, Ju Yeon-jeong’s eyes rolled back enough to show a great deal of white.
Seom-ye no longer lacked anything.
Those bound to the martial lineage he had created would more than replenish his forces.
Those undeniable facts struck Ju Yeon-jeong’s mind like lightning. Only Ma Se-in, standing beside her, looked restless.
“These people truly...”
Red Noon Sword turned away from her fury.
Their gaze settled on Ma Yeon-jeok, the peerless Purple Uniform expert who had watched them in silence.
“The Ma Family Head has been blessed with an outstanding blood relative.
“The practitioners of Seom-ye’s Lineage will always be grateful.”
They flattered Ma Yeon-jeok while leaving room for the other side to retreat. It was practiced speech.
Jeong Yeon-shin even found himself imagining what it would be like to speak honeyed words to the Lord of Desolate Fortress.
“...You are right. Yeon-shin has dependable allies.”
“Family Head!”
Ma Yeon-jeok ignored Ju Yeon-jeong’s cry, his expression astonishingly calm.
He spoke only as he gazed at his grandson, who was steadily earning the goodwill of others.
“You were born with talent that comes once in a thousand ages, building both martial arts and a martial lineage at once.”
“...Grandfather.”
“I have shown you far too much disgrace. I am ashamed. If you return safely, you will see a changed main family then...”
Cough.
His words broke off as he coughed up blood.
“Family Head!”
“What is this...?”
The Ma family members stepped forward in shock. Ma Yeon-jeok looked at the blood leaking through the fingers covering his mouth and gave a bitter smile.
“Has it already come to this? I only made one trip to Southern Zhili.”
He ignored Ju Yeon-jeong and the elders. He merely shook his head while extending a hand toward the startled Jeong Yeon-shin and Ma Se-in.
“It is karma. The domineering path I walked in my youth is returning as arrows. I cut down so many heads without even knowing what restraint meant. The martial arts I built so quickly are bound to collapse.”
“The reason you cannot go to Sichuan is...”
At Jeong Yeon-shin’s words, Ma Yeon-jeok shook his head.
“The law. It is because of the law. Defending the main fortress comes first. That is all.”
The words carried the stubbornness of the former Divine Sword Squad Leader.
His body worsened as his abilities declined.
The Divine Sword Squad forces were dispersed throughout the realm as it grew ever more chaotic. Even if both were reasons, he spoke only of the law.
Still holding nothing but fond pride in his eyes as he looked at Jeong Yeon-shin, he soon turned away. His purple robes swirled with him.
“I pray for your martial fortune. I always have, and I always will.”
With his back turned, Ma Yeon-jeok spoke again.
“Members of the Ma family, see our guests out and follow this old man.”
The command that followed was not directed at Jeong Yeon-shin. Ma Yeon-jeok spoke clearly.
“Ju Yeon-jeong has spoken and acted beyond all reason. The elders silently agreed with that conduct. I listened quietly, but I did not expect it to go this far. I cannot permit today’s insubordination. The Golden Immortal Eight Methods of the imperial house? No. If we truly speak of restoring this family, we must first set discipline and law in order. Even if I must cast aside my dignity and disregard life and death, I will punish you.”
Raging fury seemed to drip from even his restrained words.
The Purple Uniform Desolate Ma Family Head spoke of punishment. Perhaps it was something that had never happened before.
For the first time, Ju Yeon-jeong’s voice carried confusion.
“Family Head...!”
“I said follow me. How profound must the martial arts of you lot be for you to disregard me with such contempt? I have been utterly humiliated before my grandson, so I must find out. I will not draw my sword, for I might kill someone in a single stroke.”
That was his final word.
Jeong Yeon-shin left the Desolate Ma family with the martial artists of the Seom-ye Martial Lineage. That was the only course possible.
Yet his keen martial senses clearly detected the aura beyond the threshold.
Boom!
The explosive roar of a Force Projection force wave striking an abdomen, the sound of Ju Yeon-jeong’s long breath scattering miserably, even Ma Yeon-jeok’s refined cough.
“That’s vicious.”
The Languid Flame Dragon at Jeong Yeon-shin’s side spoke.
The boy walked on in silence, pushing his concern for Ma Se-in into a corner of his heart.
The presence of the martial artists following behind him was immense.
In a single night, strength enough to form an entire combat unit had come to him.
At this rate, even the Chief Steward's Office would readily permit his journey to Sichuan. All that remained was persuasion.
“I heard what happened to Demon Wings.”
Red Noon Sword suddenly spoke.
A footstep sounded.
Jeong Yeon-shin stopped short and turned around. Red Noon Sword continued.
“I followed our founding master’s trail and visited the Chief Steward's Office as well. An incident like that was bound to spread throughout the main fortress.”
“...”
“If you need us, please say so.”
“I need you.”
Jeong Yeon-shin answered without hesitation.
The martial artists’ faces filled his view.
Some silently nodded, while others smiled. The traces of the unique martial arts Jeong Yeon-shin had founded were clear upon them.
They each spoke with reverence, even discussing the matter among themselves.
“Our founding master should know this as well. Sichuan’s martial world embodies the chaos gripping the Central Plains.”
“Mm. It is a region where one of the Eight Great Families, three of the Nine Great Sects, three of the Thirteen Heavens, and seven major factions are tangled together. Can you imagine it?”
“There is nowhere else in the world like it. There are countless masters, and because the common people are so numerous, there is no shortage of talent. It is also a region where martial artists die in droves. The schemes and stratagems are extraordinary.”
“Well, we already spoke of it on the way here. Sichuan is suitable for demonstrating the martial arts of Seom-ye’s Lineage. And we are going to rescue our comrades, so how could we not follow? Our noble spirit is surging.”
At the words of a young White Uniform martial artist, Red Noon Sword turned to Jeong Yeon-shin.
Moonlight poured from the wide-open night sky, casting the shadows of the boy and the martial artists together.
“Though the Sichuan martial world may be vast and without end, we are martial artists bound by a school granted by Heaven.”
They respectfully clasped their fist in their palm.
“Please draw the Desolate Sword at the vanguard, our sole founding master.”
Footnotes:
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