WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 159: Leader of Demon Wings (2)
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After saving the commoners, Jeong Yeon-shin and his group entered Hanzhong without delay.
The gate soldiers’ eyes widened at the sight of martial robes bearing the character for Desolate and Desolate Fortress tokens.
Desolate Fortress martial artists needed to travel freely throughout the martial world.
Naturally, their residence could not be bound by an identity tally, but neither could they live outside the common populace as other martial artists did.
The nation’s tacit support and Desolate Fortress’s mandate to preserve public order were what sustained it.
The Desolate Fortress token, engraved with a golden tree pattern, also served as identification.
Still, inspections were sometimes delayed. The token was rare even in the wider world.
“We greet the esteemed masters of Desolate Fortress.”
Hanzhong was different. Perhaps because it was such a large city, they were allowed through as soon as the soldiers saw the character for Desolate and the token.
Most of them could not take their eyes off Yeon-shin. Their gazes held awe rather than vigilance.
They seemed to understand the hierarchy denoted by Desolate Fortress attire.
“To become a Desolate Fortress Squad Leader at such a young age, you must possess talent beyond the imagination of ordinary people like us. Still, Hanzhong has long been the home ground of the Martial Alliance Assembly. The Jegal Family has been laying the groundwork in secret for decades, and this time, they have used Desolate Fortress as a pretext to convene the assembly. I hope you will take special care.”
The gate captain even offered advice. They were well informed about worldly affairs.
Yeon-shin recalled Zhenping County in Shaanxi, where he had undertaken his first mission.
‘The county magistrate there treated Desolate Fortress as a joke. Even Hanzhong’s gate soldiers are different.’
After returning the courtesy with a fist-and-palm salute, he passed through the gates. At once, a boisterous, bustling atmosphere brushed against his skin.
“Fine pottery for sale!”
“Potatoes brought in from the Western Regions!”
“Come taste the finest delicacies under heaven at the Great Fortune Inn!”
Markets stretched along both sides of the broad official road. It was immensely prosperous.
At a glance, hundreds of commoners and martial artists were bargaining, tending stalls, or wandering about.
It reminded him of the streets of Xiangyang, where Desolate Fortress stood.
That alone said much.
“The Martial Alliance’s foundations are impressive. They look capable of rivaling Desolate Fortress’s own.”
Languid Flame Dragon spoke as he walked to Yeon-shin’s right, leading his horse by the reins.
“If the city housing their headquarters is already this lively, it’s hard to imagine how much more it will grow by feeding on the logistics consumed by an orthodox sect alliance. The more Hanzhong grows, the greater the Martial Alliance Assembly’s symbolic weight will become. Famine is hell only for those who have nothing. The world’s wealth and food always gather where strength lies.”
For someone who had been the Young Family Head of a prestigious family, he possessed sharp insight beneath his sly, languid disposition.
“Were you talking to me?”
Yeon-shin asked. Languid Flame Dragon swiftly turned his head.
“How could that be? Of course I must speak respectfully to the Squad Leader. I was only talking to myself.”
“Mind your conduct.”
The boy was indirectly telling him that he had heard every word. He found it difficult to say anything embarrassing outright to someone who was not a commoner.
He had been especially so lately. Hyeon Won-chang snickered, while Namgung Hwa-shin’s lips curved slightly.
Only the Jeomchang Sect disciples trailed behind awkwardly, unable to join the conversation. The Little Sword Empress alone smiled vaguely.
They were walking down the main road that ran straight from Hanzhong’s gates.
The group had dismounted and was leading their horses when people nearby began stopping one after another upon recognizing Desolate Fortress’s attire.
Some even ran deeper into the city.
Hyeon Won-chang spoke.
“There will be countless disputes. They likely did not invite schools from the Demonic Sect, so Desolate Fortress will be the greatest thorn in their eyes.”
“I’m already bored. I wonder how many sharp thorns are hidden beneath the White Path martial schools’ formalities. I can feel their stale air seeping into my bones.”
Languid Flame Dragon spoke with lowered eyes. His faintly furrowed brow made him look languid.
He continued.
“Isn’t it simple? We attend the grand founding ceremony safely and impress the main fortress’s majesty upon their festival. They can’t openly harm us, so we only need to watch for ambushes. They may even stop those for us. The host is responsible for an envoy’s safety. We only need to care about appearances.”
“It’s because those appearances are a mission as important as our lives that I’m saying this, you unranked disciple. More than a hundred sects have signed the Martial Alliance Assembly’s joint petition, by current estimates. An enormous number of eyes will be watching us.”
Hyeon Won-chang also had a talent for treating Languid Flame Dragon casually.
He occasionally shrank back before the Young Family Head’s distinctive presence, but the Imperial Hero fundamentally despised major factions.
Using the difference in rank between White Uniform and unranked disciple, he often rebuked Languid Flame Dragon on Yeon-shin’s behalf.
“It’s only because there was no time. The Sichuan mission would have promoted me straight to White Uniform otherwise.”
Languid Flame Dragon clicked his tongue.
“I should earn a considerable achievement at this founding ceremony too. I’ll show a two-step promotion never before seen in Desolate Fortress history. I should aim for Blue Uniform in one leap.”
As they talked, the Martial Alliance Assembly’s headquarters came into view.
Its very presence made it seem impregnable.
It enclosed a stretch of land too vast to take in at once.
A massive single-layer wall rose around it, looking as sturdy as a city wall.
Hanzhong was a major transportation hub of the Central Plains, yet it was difficult to understand how they had obtained so much land.
It reminded Yeon-shin of Desolate Fortress. The moat was similar as well. A broad body of water wrapped around the Martial Alliance Assembly headquarters like a belt.
It held little meaning for martial artists who had cultivated an advanced Body Movement Scripture, so it seemed intended to display the assembly’s authority.
“This really does remind me of the main fortress. Doesn’t it look too similar?”
Hyeon Won-chang muttered.
The road crossing the moat toward the entrance was enormously wide. Dozens of people could pass at once.
Escort agents transporting goods, merchant guilds there to trade supplies, and martial artists from sects affiliated with the Martial Alliance Assembly moved along it. It was quieter than Hanzhong’s entrance, but that only made its solemn atmosphere stand out more.
“Desolate... Desolate Fortress...!”
Someone stopped upon seeing the group.
Yeon-shin stood at the front, and his Black Uniform long robe and golden character for Desolate were conspicuous. Any martial artist of the Martial Alliance Assembly would recognize them at once.
The atmosphere changed in an instant. The people crossing the moat halted.
Amid the whispers came obvious names. Desolate Fortress, black long robe, Seom-ye, White Qilin, Languid Flame Dragon...
“We have arrived at the place to announce our chivalrous names.”
Hyeon Won-chang said with a deliberately hearty laugh.
Xuzhou of Southern Zhili, where he had made his name, was quite far from Hanzhong. No one recognized the Imperial Hero.
No one moved until the group crossed the bridge over the moat.
The guards stationed at the entrance stiffened. Only when Hyeon Won-chang stepped forward beside Yeon-shin did they straighten their posture.
A martial artist faced Hyeon Won-chang.
“Where are you from...?”
Were they trying to keep up appearances? Everyone knew, yet the question was asked regardless.
“We came from Desolate Fortress. We are Demon Wings.”
“...Bring the register.”
The martial artist dealing with Hyeon Won-chang glanced back slightly. A gate soldier who appeared to be a subordinate quickly approached.
They carried an inked brush and a ledger. It seemed they recorded the identities of everyone entering and leaving the assembly headquarters.
“See you inside.”
The Jeomchang Sect disciples entered first, following the Little Sword Empress’s farewell and wink.
“I am Hyeon Won-chang, a White Uniform warrior of Demon Wings under Desolate Fortress’s Divine Sword Squad. I am called the Imperial Hero. Here is my Desolate Fortress token.”
Hyeon Won-chang, Languid Flame Dragon, and Namgung Hwa-shin proved their identities in turn.
A considerable commotion arose when Languid Flame Dragon and Namgung Hwa-shin gave their names.
A doubtful “Could it be?” became “It really is.” They were rising talents already famous as the strongest young generation among the Eight Great Families.
Now that they had appeared at the Martial Alliance as Desolate Fortress’s swords, the gazes fixed on the two young masters could only be complicated.
They seemed to hold a mix of bitterness and hostility.
“Next...”
The gatekeeper began, then hesitated.
A brief tension passed through the air. The identity of the last person the gatekeeper intended to call was obvious.
A boy in black robes accompanied by a dragon and a qilin could only be Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin. He was a newly risen supreme master whose reputation had grown rapidly of late.
Those knowledgeable about the martial world did not casually speak of Desolate Fortress Black Uniform masters.
A legion was said to reside within a single body, and Black Uniforms were authorized to execute even orthodox martial artists in the name of public welfare.
Their very existence was close to a taboo in the White Path martial world.
Seom-ye, Leader of Demon Wings.
He had greatly contributed to sending three Desolate Fortress combat units against the Huangbo Family. He had also personally taken part in the life-and-death duel with Namgung’s direct line.
It was truly ironic. He was a master deeply involved in the very causes behind the alliance formation advocated by the Martial Alliance Assembly.
“...”
The bridge over the moat had fallen silent.
Whoosh. Thud.
A young man in green scholar’s robes descended between the Desolate Fortress masters and the gatekeepers.
He held a fan reinforced with iron ribs. He possessed the air of a scholar and an unusual elegance.
Swish.
Turning toward Yeon-shin, the young man gripped the fan upside down and offered a fist-and-palm salute.
“My name is Jegal Hyeon. I am committing a grave discourtesy upon our first meeting, but I have long admired the Squad Leader’s martial reputation. I respectfully request a spar from the Leader of Demon Wings.”
His words deepened the silence around them. Now the passersby fully turned toward the scene.
Rather than merely stealing glances at the Desolate Fortress masters, they wished to witness what might prove an interesting event.
“That is very sudden. He wasn’t like that...?”
Languid Flame Dragon muttered. As the Huangbo Family’s Young Family Head, he seemed to have known Jegal Hyeon before.
“Here?”
Yeon-shin asked quietly. At the same time, he felt Jegal Hyeon’s gaze sweep over the Northern Light Sword at his waist.
His senses, sharpened through his upper dantian, clearly caught that look. An odd power resided in Jegal Hyeon’s eyes.
‘Look at those eyes.’
The boy thought.
Among the countless martial arts under heaven were eye techniques. They were martial arts that trained one’s way of seeing.
A well-developed eye technique was said to grant vision beyond one’s martial level. It pushed dynamic visual acuity to its limit.
‘Something feels off.’
Immortal Dragon, Jegal Hyeon.
Victory was not his goal. Rather than daring to hope for victory, he seemed to have another aim.
It felt as though he were pursuing a larger plan, not something that would end in a single encounter.
Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly. Had he become caught in some scheme the moment he set foot at the assembly entrance?
It was not much different from the feeling he had recognized when facing Ju Yeon-jeong of the Desolate Ma family.
“If it’s only a few exchanges.”
He accepted the spar for the moment.
A faint smile formed on Jegal Hyeon’s lips. It was a strange smile.
“I will gratefully engage.”
Space was made for the unexpected spar on the unusually wide bridge over the moat.
All kinds of chatter spread in an instant, and crowds surrounded the main gates of the Martial Alliance Assembly headquarters.
They came from Hanzhong’s marketplaces and from within the assembly headquarters. The people surrounding the two spoke with curious expressions.
“Desolate Fortress truly brings turmoil wherever it goes!”
“To think Immortal Dragon himself would request a spar. Yet isn’t he being too respectful? No matter how high the boy’s status, he hasn’t even reached twenty.”
“Keep your mouth shut. You know far too little of the world. If you truly understood what that black long robe signifies, you would never utter such nonsense.”
“We are about to witness the sword arts of a Squad Leader under the Divine Sword Squad...! What a blessed day!”
The spar between the young man and the boy, who had watched each other for a moment, began without warning.
Whoosh!
Facing Yeon-shin, Jegal Hyeon stepped forward with his right foot. It was an incredibly light True Step, yet it contained profound principles.
Dust spread through the gap between his sole and the ground. At the same time, the Force Projection rising up his leg like a whirlwind was visible to the eye.
The True Step was followed by an attack.
The iron fan snapped open and raced sideways.
Ordinary iron fans were said to be used folded, like clubs, but the Jegal Family’s fan art appeared to be something else.
The force gathered between the fan ribs seemed to raise separate whirlwinds.
‘Interesting.’
The boy’s lips curved slightly as Jegal Hyeon unleashed his form.
The hem of Yeon-shin’s black robe rose sharply. He leaped as though stepping on empty air.
The boy planted his leather shoe atop the iron fan ribs and stood tall.
Tap.
His hands remained clasped behind his back. He did not draw his sword.
Jegal Hyeon’s earlier gaze had been strange, and Yeon-shin also recalled with perfect clarity the mission Desolate Divine Spear Ak Su-rim had given him.
He only needed to disgrace them somehow. Whatever scheme the Martial Alliance Assembly possessed did not matter.
‘Movement technique, Wind Body.’
He used the Body Movement Scripture he had created recently.
Releasing minute force waves throughout his body, he did not fall from the fan, as light as a feather.
The sensation of riding a cloud spread beneath his feet.
It was quite enjoyable. The feeling of his body swaying with his robes was remarkably new.
He varied the minute Force Projection throughout his body according to Jegal Hyeon’s hand movements and the fan’s force waves.
As he shifted his center of gravity at every moment, he drifted through the air along with the fan ribs.
“What... is this...!”
Jegal Hyeon appeared thoroughly flustered. His straight brows twisted.
“...”
The surroundings, which had stirred with anticipation at the clash between young masters, froze.
Someone muttered, as if groaning, “Crossing the River on a Single Reed.” It was the tale of Bodhidharma crossing the Yangtze on a single reed.
A fan belonging to the Jegal Young Family Head, renowned for fan arts, was comparable to a reed leaf upon the Yangtze’s waves.
“Leader of Demon Wings! What do you think you are doing...!”
Only when a middle-aged master of the Shandong Ak Family shouted did Yeon-shin answer.
“A rising talent of your alliance requested a spar from this Squad Leader, so...”
The boy’s bearing was supremely proud. He stood at the edge of the fan and looked down indifferently.
The posture of his hands clasped behind his back created an almost strange elegance.
“I am giving instruction.”
Yeon-shin did not consider it mockery. It was a fair contest between martial arts each had cultivated properly.
Colliding ultimate arts and enjoying the imagery, history, and principles within them was the boy’s only pleasure.
He deliberately remained there a little longer before stepping down. The timing was truly exquisite. It was just before the Ak Family master thrust out a spear.
After taking the breath from the Ak Family spear master, Yeon-shin calmly lowered his hands. At that moment, he looked like a boy his own age.
“Weapon forms matter too, but you should first achieve mastery over your movements.”
Silence lingered briefly. Those enthralled by the overwhelming sight could not take their eyes from the boy in the Black Uniform long robe.
Commoners and martial artists, men and women, young and old alike wore expressions as though they had witnessed an art never before seen under heaven. It seemed to have become a rare spectacle for everyone.
“As expected of the genius I chose. It is truly sound advice.”
Languid Flame Dragon broke the silence by applauding alone. He even nodded. Yeon-shin saw through his intentions at once.
He did not know whether Languid Flame Dragon had truly been impressed, but there was clearly a considerable amount of flattery involved.
He had heard that the Squad Leader’s assessment would greatly help erase the Young Family Head’s identity as the heir of a traitorous family.
“It is not right to cover incompetence with flattery. That is the conduct of a treacherous subject.”
“...”
Yeon-shin turned toward the gatekeeper.
“I will enter the headquarters. Lead the way.”
“...Please follow me.”
The leader of the gate guards turned around with a dazed expression.
Jegal Hyeon stood blankly without moving, while the middle-aged master of the Shandong Ak Family seemed reluctant to risk clashing with Desolate Fortress’s young Squad Leader.
The Ak Family master only gestured stiffly to the martial artists within the assembly, ordering them to drive away the onlookers.
For a while, only the footsteps of Demon Wings and the gatekeepers echoed.
The hems of black, blue, white, and unranked disciple robes receded toward the broad entrance.
Even while guards pushed them away, people continued to watch their retreating backs. Their steps were strangely quiet and unhurried.
Summer had been long, but it had an end.
Now autumn leaves had come.
They fell from above in radiant red hues. A gust of autumn wind blew behind Yeon-shin’s group.
The wind among the red leaves was gentle, like the soft brushstrokes of a kind painter. It seemed to attest naturally to the formidable strength of the boy who was Leader of Demon Wings.
* * *
The Martial Alliance’s leadership had deliberately sent the rising talent, Immortal Dragon. Whether he won or lost did not matter.
From the beginning, no one had discussed Jegal Hyeon’s chances of victory. It was enough to test the accuracy of the traces obtained from Clear Qilin Namgung Se-jin’s corpse.
They wished to extract the Leader of Demon Wings’ martial arts on a smaller scale and, in the end, the Divine Sword Squad Leader’s sword arts.
The Martial Alliance Assembly had many people with keen eyes.
The Jegal Family’s eye techniques had long been renowned for their excellence, along with the formations they wielded.
The Moyong Family was no less formidable. They had acquired an eye technique of the Ming Cult lineage from the tomb of an unknown Heavenly Demon.
“He did not even draw his sword?”
A middle-aged man with especially dark sword-like brows muttered.
Wind-Water Mystic Master Jegal Cheon. He was the leader of the Profound Heaven Squad of the Jegal Family.
The Martial Alliance Leader and the Zhuge Family Head were absent to inspect the restored traces of the Divine Sword Squad Leader’s sword art. In their absence, he sat in the grand preceptor's chair as acting chief strategist of the Martial Alliance.
“Squad Leader, the Leader of Demon Wings from Desolate Fortress requests an audience.”
A pleasantly refined voice rang out beyond the antique curtain.
It was the voice of a servant brought directly from the Jegal Family. Jegal Cheon spoke at once.
“Let him in.”
As he granted entry, he moved his arm.
He picked up several Go stones resting on the chair’s armrest and tossed them in various directions. The air grew heavy in an instant.
The Jegal Family’s ultimate art, said to rival the Blood Flame Sect’s sorcery formations, had been activated.
Heavy Wind Creeping Wall Formation. It had been installed together with the headquarters to protect the Alliance Leader's Hall.
It erected a mystical wall outside and raised sharp sword wind within.
It belonged to the realm of sorcery arts. Black leather shoes could be seen beneath the curtain. By now, the servant and the Leader of Demon Wings would have encountered a supernatural phenomenon.
Where else would they have seen an invisible wall that prevented one from stepping through? Sorcery formations that exerted physical force were rare under heaven.
For a martial artist to break it down, ordinary methods would not suffice. Even considerable knowledge would be far from enough.
An advanced sorcerer was one who could create a domain of mutual nonaggression even before a supreme master.
‘It would be a poor choice to provoke him too openly, but...’
Jegal Cheon thought.
There were many ways to assess a person’s nature, but in his experience, nothing surpassed stirring their anger.
At least, that was true in the martial world. The Martial Alliance Assembly’s founding ceremony would be a long event.
They needed to understand the young Leader of Demon Wings’ disposition and probe for weaknesses.
A martial art’s mnemonic formula drew strength from its imagery. Qi was only a means of giving form to martial principles.
If they could repeatedly disrupt the Leader of Demon Wings’ state of mind, much could be gained.
The chances of a Martial Alliance martial artist winning the grand founding ceremony would rise. They might even extract information about Desolate Fortress.
If the young master could not control his rising anger, he might even make a fool of himself before everyone.
It would damage Desolate Fortress’s reputation.
“Did I not say to let him in?”
Jegal Cheon deliberately raised his voice.
Rip.
A hand suddenly pierced through the center of the green silk curtain.
It was a straight hand blade. Jegal Cheon felt a divine chill in that instant.
Footnotes:
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