WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 125: Samadhi True Fire (5)

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It was a world where swords and sabers abounded.

The gates of Desolate Fortress's Qizhou Branch had always been crowded. All kinds of people came there.

Merchant guilds seeking reliable trade with martial arts masters, commoners bringing their grievances to Desolate Fortress rather than the authorities, and drifters lingering in hopes of learning even a single move or half a form of profound martial arts.

The broad roads branching to either side and straight ahead had never been quiet.

It was the same now. Only the nature of the crowd had changed.

The people who had been walking the streets had stepped aside, watching the unfamiliar arrivals with faces full of worry and excitement.

"That's the Ten Perfect Sect."

One spectator muttered.

He was a dignified-looking merchant dressed in yellow silk.

Merchants with fine clothes and years of experience were usually well-versed in news from the martial world. Martial sects were like mines through which vast streams of goods flowed.

They consumed not only martial uniforms, weapons, and provisions, but also enormous military power that affected the lives of common people, whether through chivalry or banditry.

Merchants had no choice but to be sensitive to matters of the martial world, especially during a famine like this.

"Starting with the man at the front... he's truly formidable. Fierce Sword came in person. Light-green fighting robes, dual sabers, thin gloves... even that broad, rugged face. It has to be him."

"You mean Sword Scorpion Demon's sworn younger brother?"

The man beside him asked. The merchant nodded.

"That's right. They're sworn brothers, so they aren't related by blood. Still, their swordsmanship was said to be evenly matched."

"That's high praise."

"Of course, Sword Scorpion Demon Dokgo Gwang may have said it to elevate his sworn brother's standing..."

"At this point, isn't Fierce Sword's reputation second only to Sword Scorpion Demon's? Qingcheng Sect and Ami Sect, was it? The story is still famous. He displayed the Ten Perfect Sect's throwing-blade art before experts of the Nine Sects and Tang Sect, then split the wine cups in their hands in two."

"That was only him flaunting his power before younger talents. He could never have pulled off that stunt before the Tang Sect's mid-level masters."

"Brother, it seems you have connections to the Tang Sect?"

The question was playful. The Tang Family Head, wearing a human-skin mask, did not answer.

He silently watched the group approaching from across the road.

If they continued straight ahead, they would soon be beside Desolate Fortress's Qizhou Branch.

A young man's voice reached him first.

"Bong Gong. I think we should remain on guard. Considering the experts from our sect and the Pure Demon Alliance who entered the City of Master Craftsmen..."

They were coming along the western road leading to the Qizhou Branch.

About twenty people.

They carried swords, sabers, staffs, and whips.

People along the street scattered with frightened expressions, and the approaching group seemed thoroughly accustomed to the sight.

It showed in their very steps. Every one of them carried a calm yet solid presence.

The young man spoke again. The way he carried a crescent-bladed saber on his back and a treasured sword at his waist looked perfectly natural.

"Senior Uncle Dokgo and the Pure Demon Divine Hand were there. The Qizhou Branch may be insignificant, but we must take the Desolate Fortress main fortress's supporting forces seriously. They must have escaped the City of Master Craftsmen because they possessed strength comparable to Demon Wings. We must account for an unknown master."

"..."

Bong Gong did not answer. He was a middle-aged martial artist clad in composure like armor.

His light-green sleeveless fighting robes exposed heavily muscled arms.

Twin swords hung at his sides, while the ends of three daggers protruded from behind his waist.

Despite his conspicuous armament, he gave off a neat, disciplined air.

"I do not underestimate them."

Bong Gong of the Ten Perfect Sect, Fierce Sword Gal Sa-ryang, slowly parted his lips.

"We need only fulfill the duty entrusted to us. The sect leader gave me full authority, so I have honed my qi in preparation to repay that trust. It will be enough to trust in my accumulated effort and reveal my martial arts."

That was when it happened.

"Hey!"

A carefree shout, like that of a street thug, shook the air. It was like the roar of a giant lion.

Heavy force rolled toward them, laden with monstrous power.

Directly opposite them stood another group.

Unlike the Ten Perfect Sect, there were only around ten people. Yet the momentum of the group striding toward them was overwhelming.

If a wall stood in their path, they looked as though they would smash through it instead of going around. Their aura struck the air with tyrannical force.

The Pure Demon Alliance.

The man at the front was unmistakable.

His loosely untied hair resembled a lion's mane. He wore no inner garment, only a dark shoulder cape thrown carelessly over himself, leaving his scar-covered upper body exposed.

His muscles looked carved from stone, and his build was enormous. He had to be at least eight cheok tall.

A massive saber was strapped to his back. It was large enough to resemble a pillar.

Anyone could see that he had trained both inner energy and external arts. He was the Saber Fist Demon of the Thirteen Heavens.

The blue eyes distinctive to the many Westerners of the Pure Demon Alliance gleamed beneath light-brown hair.

"Isn't that the swordsman of the Meager Sect?"

He grinned as he greeted them. It was a mocking twist on Ten Perfect Sect, a name that signified completeness.

It was an insult most supreme masters would not dare utter.

Fierce Sword Gal Sa-ryang calmly inclined his head.

"Senior Saber Fist Demon still looks vigorous. Is it thanks to the Pure Demon Divine Hand's passing?"

"That was regrettable."

"Truly?"

"I'm pleased that one contender for the next Alliance Leader's seat has fallen, but I lost the chance to personally counter his Fourteen Mist-Working Palms. How could that not be regrettable? I only hope the Desolate Fortress bastard who shattered Divine Hand's arm is not laid up weak and sickly. I wonder who it was. The Leader of Demon Wings, perhaps?"

His voice brimmed with power. Gal Sa-ryang shook his head.

"Didn't you come here to earn merit? If you truly believed that the master who faced two major factions alongside the Leader of Demon Wings had emerged unharmed, you would not be here."

"Your shallow insight is amusing. Still, it isn't entirely wrong."

The Saber Fist Demon laughed and continued.

"You know me rather well."

"It's an easy conclusion. Only a Purple Uniform master could have done such a thing, but would Desolate Fortress have the strength to send a Purple Uniform all the way to Sichuan?"

There was an odd note in his tone. Gal Sa-ryang fell silent after that.

By then, the Ten Perfect Sect and Pure Demon Alliance groups stood facing each other. The main gates of Desolate Fortress's Qizhou Branch were right beside them.

They had arrived together as though by prior arrangement, coordinating the distance between them.

"The Tang Sect is here as well. I wonder what those schemers are after."

The Saber Fist Demon's lips curled into a vicious smile.

He had sensed the presences hidden along the road extending from the gates. It was the Concealment Art unique to the Sichuan Tang Clan.

Their technique was profound, but Gal Sa-ryang and the Saber Fist Demon were supreme masters who could act like princes of commandery in Sichuan.

No one but the Tang Family Head could deceive their senses.

Gal Sa-ryang spoke.

"I don't think they pose a threat. Someone already has leverage over the Sichuan Tang Clan. I hear they are licking the Blood Flame Sect Master's feet, so they will aid us if necessary. Isn't Desolate Fortress's destruction what the entire martial world desires?"

"Except for the Nine Sects' bald monks and long-nosed Daoists."

The young man escorting Fierce Sword Gal Sa-ryang answered. Confidence showed beneath his cynical tone.

The tyrannical presence unique to the major factions of the Thirteen Heavens did not belong solely to the Pure Demon Alliance or Blood Flame Sect.

The pride rooted in each of their martial arts was immense.

...

The spectators numbering in the hundreds had fallen silent.

Most commoners pressed themselves against the walls. Wandering martial artists stood atop the roofs of nearby pavilions. Some even clung to railings like spiders with the Wall Gecko Skill.

Only the Thirteen Heavens experts gave off any presence.

They stood at the peak of a martial world where the strong were revered. That was the status of martial artists from major factions said to rival the Nine Sects.

It was more than enough to crush every spectator gathered there.

The Pure Demon Alliance experts in black shoulder capes smiled, as though enjoying the silence.

That was the nature of those who trained martial arts. They refined their realms to feel the fullness of their own existence.

They sought a presence and strength that could overwhelm others.

The Thirteen Heavens stopped at nothing to attain it. That was why they were the Demonic Sect.

The Ten Perfect Sect warriors, on the other hand, looked unbothered, as though they had come out for a casual stroll.

"Let's begin."

Gal Sa-ryang spoke. The air around the young man's neck began to boil. With a tremendous surge of power, he shouted.

"The imperial watchdogs, show yourselves!"

A brief silence followed.

The masters waited quietly.

Rather than storming in and cutting down everyone in sight, they meant to tarnish Desolate Fortress's prestige before the spectators.

They had lost each sect's elite group. To preserve their standing as major factions of the Demonic Sect, they had to crush Desolate Fortress.

"I wonder if any of them are unharmed. If they're too disappointing, that won't be fun either."

The Saber Fist Demon said this. The Ten Perfect Sect youth sneered inwardly.

He had come specifically hoping for that, yet this bear of a man was still trying to preserve his dignity.

'What a shallow fool.'

Creeeak.

The gates of Desolate Fortress's Qizhou Branch moved. The loud sound felt strangely calm.

The massive doors opened only a little. A boy appeared through the gap.

As a great silence weighed down the road, a young swordsman in a long robe of black satin stepped out.

The sleeves of the black robe were uneven. One had been torn away.

Two swords hung at his waist, and the sight somehow suited him.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.

"You."

His gaze was fixed on the Saber Fist Demon of the Pure Demon Alliance. Anyone could recognize him because of his enormous frame.

The boy continued calmly.

"You have the same presence as the demon soldiers I saw below. There was also someone called the Pure Demon Divine Hand. Did you come for revenge?"

"Boy, are you worthy of speaking the Divine Hand's epithet?"

The Saber Fist Demon asked with a derisive smile on his lips.

Even so, he had not let down his guard. His right foot had already stepped forward.

It was an opening stance. One of Sichuan's rare supreme masters had reacted. That meant he had sensed something strange from the boy before him.

"Worthy?"

Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. His manner was inscrutable, and a faint curve formed at his lips.

It was an obvious provocation.

The Saber Fist Demon's smile deepened.

"Desolate Fortress must be truly short on talent. I can see that your presence is unusual, and that you're an outstanding young talent. But that is another matter. Can you stand alone and discuss sect affairs with us? Wearing such an absurd Black Uniform robe, no less."

He had already taken in the character hwang, meaning "desolate," embroidered on the black robe. His keen eyes missed nothing.

It was laughable. Strange things filled the martial world, but all of them remained within the bounds of reason.

It would have been shocking enough for someone the boy's age to be a Blue Uniform master.

A Black Uniform was impossible. The notion deserved no more thought than imagining an object moving through midair of its own accord.

"Discuss sect affairs? Didn't you come to wage war?"

Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.

Boisterous laughter erupted from the Pure Demon Alliance, drunk on their demonic qi.

Yet the Saber Fist Demon's expression grew solemn instead.

The more the boy's breath leaked out, the clearer the flow of his inner energy technique became.

It was spirituality that only a supreme master could sense. The aura of a Divine Technique.

The Saber Fist Demon spoke calmly.

"You seem ignorant of how the great factions of the world operate. If we fought all-out wars at every turn, even a thousand years would not be enough to build strength like this. That is why martial duel pacts exist in the martial world."

"If I defeat and kill you, will the Pure Demon Alliance withdraw?"

Jeong Yeon-shin asked. A faint smile appeared at the Saber Fist Demon's lips.

"Is this truly something you should be discussing? It seems the sect of dogs raised by the imperial court is truly short on talent. How lacking must it be?"

He, too, provoked his opponent. Every word was directed wholly at an enemy.

This was the world of martial artists, who would do anything to cut an opponent's throat with a blade.

A cold wind swept down the road, howling as it arrived. It felt exceptionally dry.

The spectators, who had already been holding their breath, seemed to stop breathing entirely.

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again, smoothing the end of his pitch-black sleeve with his other hand.

"I told the Pure Demon Divine Hand something once."

"You speak of Divine Hand again. Go on, then."

"A corpse's tongue runs long."

The boy spoke.

Footnotes:

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