WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 178: Swordsman
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The Martial Alliance's grand founding ceremony opened in grand fashion.
To secure provisions and stand against Desolate Fortress, it needed prestige, all the more so during a severe famine.
As the troubled times deepened, public sentiment and reputation mattered more than ever. The Alliance sought to establish itself as the martial world's foremost coalition.
It opened its main gate.
Its scale surpassed Desolate Fortress's. Its banner stood for chivalry. That was the impression the Martial Alliance wished to leave behind.
The grand founding ceremony announced its presence. Masters from mysterious sects that passed their arts down to a single successor came calling, while swordsmen from the Mount Hua Sect descended from their mountain.
Masters from powerful martial families also appeared in great numbers.
A fist master of the Eon Family donned hand guards. One renowned master after another made an appearance.
The Alliance had spent a long time preparing for this.
Beggars’ Sect members spread rumors of the Martial Alliance through every marketplace and posted notices. People could not help but take an interest.
They said it was a gathering where orthodox martial artists would display their skills.
Countless people flocked in.
There was not a single village in the vast lands of Hanzhong that was not bustling. The lights of taverns and inns lining the main roads never went out.
“My eyes have been thoroughly spoiled. The Moyong Family's River-Cleaving Sword Form truly lives up to its reputation. I wonder how formidable the Mount Hua Sword Absolute's Twenty-Four-Hand Plum Blossom Sword is. They say it is the most splendid sword art under heaven. My heart is pounding. Coming late is the regret of a lifetime.”
“I did not see a thing. Is your sect's eye technique really that impressive, or are you simply boasting?”
“Boasting? How could a novice measure a master's field of vision?”
Laughter and commotion mingled together. There was barely room to place one's feet on the broad road before the main gate.
On days when word spread that a reasonably well-known master would take part in a martial contest, the five-li stretch of road turned into a marketplace.
Commoners sold pancakes and sweets. Even servants from shabby inns came out into the streets to pester passersby.
A crowd.
Calling it a sea of people was accurate. Today was no exception.
“I never knew buildings like that existed. They were tall, enormous, and elegant. It truly felt like another world. It seems the Martial Alliance Assembly really is the greatest under heaven.”
“The truly otherworldly sight was the First Fist of the Eon Family's fist art. Was that not heaven-shaking, earth-moving power from a human body? I finally understood why great martial families carry themselves with the pride of royalty. Could they not face an army alone?”
The attention focused on the Alliance was tremendous. An ordinary commoner would never again have the chance to see the Martial Alliance's main headquarters.
Even if they entered, their movements would be restricted and they would undergo thorough identity checks. Still, it was worth enduring questions about their status and background.
Commoners and merchants, martial artists from minor sects, even escorts guarding the flow of goods.
The tide of people was a spectacle even to the Martial Alliance's martial artists.
In a world where chances to take in so many people at once were rare, it was a sight even for the man and woman seated atop the seven-story pavilion just inside the Alliance's main gate.
They had a clear view of the main road before the gate.
“The Martial Alliance Leader definitely is not the Sword Star. The Zhuge Family Head decides everything.”
The woman, reclining against the roof rafters, spoke. She was Miss Ye of the Ye Clan.
Soft white silk covered her eyes, yet she glanced down as though she possessed the ability to see through it.
“Why are there so many? They look like cockroaches.”
“Compared to the noble True Bloodline, they do.”
A middle-aged man in a neat, pure-white martial uniform replied. He stood upright below Miss Ye.
Though fierce winds blew against him, his posture did not waver. Martial arts had seeped into every aspect of his daily life.
“The Zhuge Family Head's unchecked rise was inevitable. An orthodox alliance was established where the Zhuge Family's main house stands. It is the reward for the effort they have quietly invested over the years. They now stand at the forefront of governing the martial world.”
“At least the Sword Star is on my side.”
Miss Ye ran her long fingers over her white blindfold.
“I wasn't sure at first. I never thought it would work even on someone of that level. He had no idea at all. Peerless masters are all eccentric, so they have careless sides. The late Sect Master was like that too. Why do you think that is?”
“...There are realms one reaches only by losing one's sanity. All the absolute masters who dominate this era must be like that. They say the peerless realm is a world of madmen. The Divine Sword Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress said so.”
“Mm, but Tyrant Hero was a little different. The First Apostle should have seen the technique that burned the Sect Master to ashes. Perhaps because he is our Grand Preceptor's grandfather, he recognized the Divine Technique well and learned it quickly. I was so jealous.”
“You must not underestimate the Sword Star. The moment even a trace of our cult's martial arts shows through in your bearing, it will lead to disaster. This unworthy Apostle has offered this counsel repeatedly, but no amount of caution will be enough.”
“Is this thing unreliable?”
Miss Ye lightly brushed the edge of her blindfold with a fingertip. The middle-aged man's eyes flashed.
“It is without doubt a sorcery artifact of our cult. It is a dharma implement devised to protect direct descendants from the lowly and a sacred relic passed down through the Sect Masters for generations. True Blood, sacred from birth, became the target of countless insignificant clans even without training Blood Arts.”
“So it is what kept our bloodline alive?”
“If one of noble blood covers their own eyes, no one can recognize them. It separates perception through the realm of sorcery arts. The deception will hold as long as you do not reveal the Blood Arts intrinsic to your bloodline. That is its only limitation, so it truly deserves to be called a sacred relic.”
“You told me not to let my guard down.”
“Even if it deceives your disposition, voice, and appearance, your conduct is another matter.”
“I've heard that until I'm sick of it. I'm getting a little nervous. Our Grand Preceptor will be here soon. He is a divine being who has refined the power to drive out evil through inner energy. What if he really sees through it?”
The hand touching her blindfold moved to the hair below her shoulder. She gently twisted its ebony ends.
The middle-aged man answered expressionlessly, as though he had not seen her do it.
“You have washed away all the habits of your former self. Your talent surpasses that of the previous Sect Master. With respect, this Apostle believes it will suffice for you to watch only your words and conduct. That will be the hardest task of all.”
“That much is fine. Still, I can't wait. I wonder how long it has been since we were able to stay so close.”
“...The sacred relic is an incomparable treasure under heaven. Please cherish it.”
“There is only one thing precious to me.”
Miss Ye's lips curved upward. Her smile was smooth.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin entered the Martial Alliance's main headquarters with his group. The moment he stepped through the main gate, the vitality pressing in on him was overwhelming.
The aura released by countless people constantly stimulated his Baihui acupoint.
At the same time, he felt something strange.
“The character for ‘desolate’? Golden-thread embroidery. What a flamboyant uniform for a young lord.”
“Wait. That age, the character for ‘desolate,’ and a black long robe... Is that not Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings? Desolate Fortress's supreme master!”
“What? That person actually exists?”
“Do not show everyone that you are a country bumpkin from Guangdong. You might offend him. Let us pass quietly.”
It differed from before. There were no gazes mixed with competitiveness and hostility.
Those unrelated to the Martial Alliance watched Jeong Yeon-shin's group with curious expressions, while the Alliance's martial artists passed them by with their eyes fixed elsewhere.
“So they know enough to feel ashamed. They invite envoys, then begin their founding ceremony among themselves?”
Hyeon Won-chang openly sneered, but no response came. Gongsun Min and the Little Sword Empress, who had accompanied them, wore rare, awkward expressions.
“Could there have been some misunderstanding?”
The young lord of the Gongsun Family spoke.
Despite his youth, he was the heir of a great martial family. Dark flames repeatedly flickered within his jet-black eyes.
It was the eye radiance produced by the Gongsun Family's inner energy.
He had just seen the Leader of Demon Wings he admired returning after settling matters with the Sword Venerable of Henan.
Shame and distress filled Gongsun Min's face.
“They call themselves an orthodox sect... Even if martial families pursue worldly fame, this is too much. My family would never have agreed to it. It is a disgrace to orthodox martial lineages.”
“I don't know. They must have already received word that the Heart Martial Union withdrew. There are so many Beggars’ Sect members in Hanzhong. If someone from a martial family had accomplished what Young Master Jeong did, would they not have come out to greet us long ago...?”
Chwi So-ok spoke as she forced her sleepy eyebrows upward. Along with Gongsun Min, she watched Jeong Yeon-shin's reaction.
The matter seemed to weigh on her. This was unlike her usual obliviousness. It meant the situation was serious.
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly looked them over.
“Go rest.”
It was a kind word from the Leader of Demon Wings, a Black Uniform master who had singlehandedly resolved one of the Alliance's problems.
Gongsun Min's eyes widened, and he muttered without thinking.
“I need to get my sword back from Moyong Myeong-jun first.”
The group split up.
Jeong Yeon-shin had no particular desire to report the outcome to the Sword Star. Looking into Namgung Hwa-shin, who had been left behind alone, came first.
If the Alliance's affairs had moved so quickly that the grand founding ceremony had already begun, then considering White Qilin's temperament, Namgung Hwa-shin would not have remained still.
Amid the countless people, people scattered in every direction. They moved the moment they saw Jeong Yeon-shin.
They appeared to be martial artists from the various sects composing the Alliance, heading to report to their leaders.
Step.
The young Leader of Demon Wings moved slowly.
With every step, the crowd parted. Uneasy faces and curious expressions spread in every direction.
The reaction of Desolate Fortress's Black Uniform envoy instantly became the matter of greatest concern. Would the grand founding ceremony end in disaster?
Or would the vitality of the festival that covered Hanzhong become the Martial Alliance's presence and spread throughout the Central Plains?
‘The Martial Alliance is vast, yet closed off. What happened?’
The boy walked on silently, with Languid Flame Dragon and Hyeon Won-chang beside him.
He thought of Namgung Hwa-shin, the companion and subordinate he trusted most. Namgung Hwa-shin had surely voiced his opposition.
Discussions between martial artists were usually accompanied by violence. The Demonic Sect and orthodox sects were no different.
If their positions could not be reconciled, major matters were often decided by the superiority of one's martial arts. It was a world where a master's word became law.
The Alliance had ignored Namgung Hwa-shin's objection.
If they had used any threat or coercion in the process, Jeong Yeon-shin was willing to use the pavilions in the Martial Alliance's inner compound as testing grounds for his new sword art.
‘If they think I would hesitate to draw my sword because they are an orthodox martial faction, they are mistaken.’
Hyeon Won-chang would make the justification clear. The sword wound inflicted by the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost could be repaid by taking and consuming Languid Flame Dragon's opium poppy.
Swish.
His left hand moved unconsciously and closed around the hilt of Northern Light Sword. Gasps immediately erupted throughout the crowd.
The Martial Alliance's martial artists were shocked. Had they thought they would suddenly witness a supreme master make a move?
Then it happened.
Tap.
Soft, lively footsteps suddenly rang out. They were unusually distinct.
‘Hm?’
A presence approached quickly. It was a dreamlike movement art, as though someone were walking on clouds.
Within a few steps, it had drawn close enough for him to smell her scent.
She wore pure-white clothing. Her long white sleeves were wide. Her outfit lay somewhere between a martial uniform and court dress.
The woman walked directly toward Jeong Yeon-shin. White silk covering both her eyes bound a strand of her hair.
She seemed to have taken care with her appearance, yet her long, confident stride was striking.
He could not tell whether she was blind or a martial artist who had trained Sensory Training.
“...”
The surroundings fell silent.
Perhaps it was because of the woman's high status. Or perhaps it was her appearance.
Sunlight filtered through leaves around the trees. In the dappled light, her beautiful nose stood out.
Her pale, porcelain-like skin carried a smooth glow. Her hair swayed with her cheerful steps, giving her a strangely mysterious air.
‘She is training Static Training and footwork at the same time. Her senses are extraordinary.’
Jeong Yeon-shin sensed aura in her soft breath. He sensed aura in her footsteps as well.
Near the big toes of her pink soft-soled shoes, he detected directions guided by the principles of the Eight Trigrams.
Fine power rippled along with her cheerful steps.
The autumn wind seemed especially clear when it reached her, as though she had refined ancient sorcery arts.
Elegance lingered in her approaching posture.
A dignity that seemed to breathe martial arts.
If one had to describe a beauty capable of toppling kingdoms among the people of the martial world, this was what it would look like.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt something strange in his heart. It was the movement of the dharma wheel. It clearly pulsed for an instant.
It lay somewhere between repulsion and resonance. Part of the energy contained within the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel had stirred at the same time.
He did not know why. Was it because of the woman's unique aura?
‘What is this?’
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin thought that, she reached his side and opened her mouth.
Her attitude suggested that the martial artists surrounding them did not exist.
“They said it doesn't have to be now. It is a message from the Sword Star.”
“What?”
“Ah, we can speak casually, right? I know you are a Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress. But I am an acting squad leader. I am also acting head of a merchant guild, the head of a very, very large merchant guild. How about we speak comfortably? I even speak casually to the Chief Strategist.”
“State your identity and name.”
The young Leader of Demon Wings spoke briefly.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin had the sensation that their gazes had met. It was deeply strange that his upper dantian's aura sense detected no hostility.
Was this how it felt to have the night sky watching him? Silence passed for a moment.
Then the woman, who had approached directly before him, formed a faint smile. It carried a bewitching allure.
“This is a secret... but since you ordered me, I'll tell you.”
She extended her beautiful fingers as her poppy-red lips moved.
“The Ye Clan Sword School, and the Ye Clan Merchant Guild.”
White fingertips settled on Jeong Yeon-shin's fist, which gripped the sword hilt at his waist. An unfamiliar fragrance gently spread.
The woman softly placed her hand over the Leader of Demon Wings' opening stance for drawing his sword and slightly lowered her head.
Her small exhale scattered near the boy's collarbone.
“My name is Ye Ha-rin,” she whispered.
Footnotes:
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