WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 172: Embodiment (8)
──────
The stench of more than a hundred and twenty corpses filled West Peak Road like fog.
Every one of them had become a lost soul with a blade raised. Some had been bringing back captives.
They had spared neither children, women, nor men. All were powerless commoners.
The long robe draped over the boy had turned an even deeper black. Blood seeped into it with every battle.
Thud!
The young Leader of Demon Wings drove his sword into the ground. He had just finished another fight. The people looking at him wore many different expressions.
Alongside fearful gazes were reverence and gratitude. The captives rescued from their captors kept bowing deeply.
“Thank you, thank you...!”
A woman in ragged hemp clothing took Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand.
The bloodstained back of the boy’s hand disappeared beneath her dirt-covered palm.
“Go home safely. They will not be able to attack again.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke.
A small smile bloomed on the elderly woman’s face. Kind wrinkles gathered around her mouth.
She smiled despite leaving behind dead relatives and a ravaged homeland. Though she had never studied, she possessed deep wisdom.
She wanted to show only her best side to the young hero who had saved her life.
“May fortune in the martial path be with you as well, young hero.”
Jeong Yeon-shin watched her retreating back for a long time. If his mother had still been alive, she would have been around that age.
He hoped every misfortune in her life had been gathered into this one ordeal. From now on, he hoped she would live in peace.
“Isn’t your attitude completely different?”
Step.
Ak Ye-rim approached and tossed out the question.
Jeong Yeon-shin briefly turned his gaze toward her. The cherished daughter of a martial family wore a strange expression.
It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. The boy did not bother trying to understand her heart.
The fact that Clear Qilin Namgung Se-jin had died by his hand would not change.
Spear Phoenix Ak Ye-rim.
One of the Nine Dragons and Nine Phoenixes, famed for both exceptional martial strength and beauty. The younger niece of Desolate Divine Spear Ak Su-rim.
The boy turned away again.
She was someone who hated him. He understood her to some extent, but he had no desire to earn her favor.
His life was not comfortable enough to spend mental energy on matters he could not change.
Instead, he found himself interested in Immortal Dragon Jegal Hyeon. There was much to learn from him.
“About thirty remain.”
Jegal Hyeon spoke while seated in the center of the camp. He sat on a rock that had been smoothly sliced flat across its width.
It was an unnatural chair. Everyone in the group assumed it had been made by a sword strike from the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost.
Such a cut would have been impossible without an exceedingly accomplished swordsman.
A Go board stood before the stone seat. It appeared that the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost had been playing there as well.
Enjoying a game in the center of a tightly guarded camp belonging to a major faction? It would have made no sense unless the person had been of elder rank.
White and black stones lay intertwined.
Since the fighting until now had taken place around the camp’s perimeter, the board remained untouched.
“You said you were the Jegal Family’s Young Family Head.”
The boy spoke.
“Lately, I have been known as the eldest legitimate son of the man truly in control of the Martial Alliance. It is often said that the Zhuge Family Head is, in practice, the foremost figure among the orthodox sects.”
Jegal Hyeon gestured for the boy to join him, a faintly self-mocking smile on his lips.
After spending two nights together, the three of them no longer felt awkward exchanging a few words.
“Is it true that the Sword Star is a figurehead?”
“He possesses great martial strength and prestige, but has no political ties. He was the ideal person for the Alliance Leader’s seat. The family heads are constantly forming and breaking alliances, so the person they put forward in name had to lack political power. There are family heads who led that effort, but... I do not wish to speak of them.”
Jegal Hyeon gave a roundabout answer before changing the subject. He seemed deeply reluctant to discuss his father.
“The remaining forces should all return by today or tomorrow. Fortunately, we have greatly reduced their strength. We were lucky. To have thinned their numbers this much before facing the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost...”
He was right.
Of the one hundred and fifty, more than one hundred and twenty corpses had been cleared away.
Many had died in just two days, yet neither Jegal Hyeon nor Ak Ye-rim appeared particularly shaken.
That was what it meant to slay demons and eradicate heresy. Those of the orthodox martial world could be as cruel as they pleased toward demonic and unorthodox practitioners.
“Do you think the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost truly uses qi sword control?”
The boy asked as he sat opposite Jegal Hyeon. They were speaking of the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost of the Heart Martial Union.
Ak Ye-rim, who had been completely ignored, raised an eyebrow. A faint smile touched Jegal Hyeon’s lips.
“I cannot say. It is true that the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost is famed in Henan as an undefeated swordsman, and that the Ghost’s movements are more widely known than most, but even the righteous heroes of the Beggars’ Sect have been unable to analyze the Ghost’s sword arts. It is unfortunate that there are only endless rumors that the sword is as swift as a ray of light. I have heard that the Ghost once boasted a single sword was enough for any Black Uniform expert of Desolate Fortress, though I cannot confirm whether it is true.”
“...Famous as an undefeated expert? I heard the Ghost was an elder.”
“It means the Ghost has lived as a supreme master for many years. It also means the Ghost is an extraordinary powerhouse, so it is worth keeping in mind. The internal cultivation art the Ghost practices is unlikely to be an unorthodox art that declines rapidly. The Ghost will be terrifyingly strong, but does it not help us prepare to know our opponent is an experienced swordsman? It will matter even more for martial artists of your kind, Squad Leader.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean geniuses who appear once in a thousand years. Their capacities may differ, but there were two around me as well. Languid Flame Dragon and Clear Qilin.”
“...I heard you were the same age.”
“Yes. The three of us, the Young Family Heads of the Jegal, Namgung, and Huangbo Families, are the same age. It is not something that happens often, and it was rather interesting, so we kept in touch from afar. We met at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering and exchanged letters to ask after one another.”
Jegal Hyeon quietly studied the Go board, then lightly shook his iron fan. Its white ribs spread open.
The side bearing a crane covered part of his lips.
“Ah, these moves follow the Go Ten Precepts very faithfully. Never... deviating from principle. It seems the Ghost played both sides alone... The Spirit Sky Sword Ghost may be more rigid than expected.”
After suddenly muttering to himself, he addressed the others again.
The Go Ten Precepts were ten well-known principles of the game.
He had been speaking of himself, yet he was offering advice about the Sword Ghost. Jegal Hyeon was no ordinary person.
His words and actions had a clear logic, yet he remained impossible to pin down.
“Did you know? It is not an exaggeration to say that Go contains life itself. Even a genius’s nature can be expressed through the principles of the Go Ten Precepts. Whether it is Languid Flame Dragon or Clear Qilin.”
Jegal Hyeon spoke in a calm voice.
All at once.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt something like a bolt of lightning.
A thrill flashed through his mind. It was faint, yet close to inspiration.
A treasured sword appeared in his mind’s eye.
The boy slowly parted his lips.
“Tell me more.”
Jegal Hyeon’s smile deepened behind his fan.
“First, I would like you to keep this from Languid Flame Dragon. I was never particularly close with that friend. I avoid debauchery.”
“And?”
“Clear Qilin was on good terms with all of us, so I was forced to spend time with him. If I had to describe Languid Flame Dragon, the principle of enter the enemy’s sphere gently would suit him. He seems hot-tempered, but he keeps within bounds and remains relaxed. He knows when to withdraw and when to press forward. One might say he is exceptionally skilled at judging the situation.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Tell me about the other one.”
Jeong Yeon-shin ruthlessly changed the subject.
Jegal Hyeon watched the boy for a moment before suddenly asking, “How did Clear Qilin meet his end? I need to know how he died to speak of that friend’s true nature.”
There was no particular intent on his face. Only a flinch from behind them could be felt. It was likely Ak Ye-rim.
Clear Qilin Namgung Se-jin.
Since Jeong Yeon-shin had entered the Martial Alliance as the Leader of Demon Wings, Namgung Se-jin’s name had continued to torment him.
His name followed the boy everywhere. It was no less persistent than the pain that came to his knees every night.
Jeong Yeon-shin was human too. Sometimes, he grew tired of it.
The martial artists of the orthodox sects who hated him. The guilt of sending a good man to the Sanzu River.
Even though they had fought a fair life-and-death duel as martial artists, the fact that he had killed a hero still cut deeply.
He simply did not show it. It was not something he had wanted.
The boy spoke with deliberate calm.
“He rebuked the family retainers who meant to harm me. He told them not to stain his death.”
“...He died with the principle of sacrifice stones for initiative.”
Jegal Hyeon nodded.
“It means one must seize the initiative even by abandoning a stone, and initiative can also mean what is important. It teaches us to clearly distinguish what has little value from what has great value. Clear Qilin cast off the burden of being the Namgung Family’s Young Family Head and chose to be the martial artist Namgung Se-jin. In the end, he departed as a noble swordsman.”
Though a strange feeling rested in his eyes, he finished his words clearly.
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin silently lowered his gaze.
The Go board filled his vision. An area conspicuously sparse in white stones caught his eye.
Sacrifice stones for initiative. The principle of sacrificing several stones to seize the initiative.
“Back then.”
The boy moved his lips slowly.
“Would it be all right to use what I gained from Clear Qilin for myself?”
Whoosh!
Around then, hurried presences rose from every direction.
There were around thirty of them.
They were different from those he had killed so far. Powerful auras closed in like a typhoon.
The remaining martial artists of the Heart Martial Union were surrounding them. They seemed to have noticed something had gone wrong.
They had approached from afar and only now revealed their power fluctuations.
“This is different from before! They said the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost had experts personally taught by the Ghost...!”
Ak Ye-rim drew the spear from her back as a brief silence fell.
Jegal Hyeon quietly watched the young Leader of Demon Wings before him. He did not know exactly what that genius meant.
Only one fact struck him.
As he looked at Jeong Yeon-shin, the Jegal Family’s genius thought of a boy who carried the martial artist Namgung Se-jin in his heart more deeply than anyone.
Immortal Dragon Jegal Hyeon spoke.
“You said it in the banquet hall. That even if you became Purple Uniform, you would still be equal to Clear Qilin.”
“I did.”
“To take a dead person as your eternal rival...? It is truly cruel. Whatever the Squad Leader chooses to gain, the gap between the two will remain the same. If Clear Qilin knew, he would likely be pleased. The higher the Squad Leader rises, the higher Clear Qilin’s own standing rises as well, does it not?”
Those words.
They could have been self-consolation. They were words meant to help the boy, whose life would be short, accept it.
Immortal Dragon truly had to be descended from Zhuge Liang.
The image of Clear Qilin, standing firm even with his side blown away, came to mind.
Jeong Yeon-shin respected him, but no longer wanted to be bound by him.
The boy slowly rose from before the Go board.
The martial artists of the Heart Martial Union, who had just arrived, saw him.
No sane person could be so relaxed. Had he not been playing Go among the corpses?
The new Leader of Demon Wings wore such a calm expression that he seemed mad.
“Geom Ye-hwa’s enemy struck first. This is a considerable loss. How should we make up for it? Perhaps a young Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress will do.”
A middle-aged man wearing black gloves on both hands stepped forward. Aura light gathered in his narrow eyes.
A haze-like aura wrapped around his entire body. This was not an expert one saw every day.
The irregular ripples spreading from the ground beneath his feet proved the depth of his inner energy.
“Was the harvest good?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked, placing a hand on his sword hilt. The presences of the thirty people surrounding them from all directions were remarkably clear.
Auras at the Blue Uniform level could be sensed here and there. There were more than one or two.
They were numerous enough to be called a group of elite experts.
“What?”
The middle-aged man asked back. The corners of the boy’s lips lifted slightly.
“Aren’t you farmers who harvest people? You are the lowliest farmers in the world.”
“The child has quite a tongue.”
The man snickered. His composure did not waver. He appeared to have deep designs.
“I have heard enough about you. A young supreme master who uses raw swordsmanship and Hand Arts while practicing a strange internal cultivation art. The First Young Master of our union has suffered greatly since losing Geom Ye-hwa, yet I never expected we would repay the debt like this. How many nights have you spent awake? One? Or two?”
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was thinking of his eternal rival.
‘Let us meet as late as we can.’
The boy spoke inwardly.
He wanted to live for a very long time.
Then, suddenly.
A sword manifested in his mind. The dam holding back his realization crumbled.
The breakwater he had built to mourn the deceased man burned bright white.
Clang!
He pulled the divine sword Northern Light from where it had been planted in the ground. Drawing the sword from the earth, the boy raised his right hand.
A dreamlike curve swept through the air.
His stance was shoulder-width. His feet formed a narrow figure eight. At the same time, his right arm rose without hesitation.
It was an opening stance that pointed the sword tip toward the heavens.
Such a form was rarely found in refined sword arts.
It was a posture a swordsman took only when abandoning defense. It was the most aggressive form.
High guard stance.
The boy gripped the sword hilt in the posture of sacrifice stones for initiative.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
