WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 181: Swordsman (4)
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He declared that a single exchange would suffice for every martial artist attending the grand founding ceremony.
He had invoked the notion of determining victory in a single move, something rarely heard in the orthodox martial world.
Few battles had as many variables as a fight between masters.
In a short, decisive clash, martial prowess alone was not enough. The compatibility of their martial arts, the state of their acupoints, and luck also had to favor them.
Not every match would truly end in a single exchange.
Still, the Leader of Demon Wings had displayed the caliber of a Black Uniform with a single sword strike. No one could object to words uttered with such composure.
“……”
The silence bestowed by Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings, was profound.
For a brief moment, everyone present was at a loss for words. The westerly wind, blowing without regard for human affairs, felt strangely distinct.
It was a silence that did not break easily. Despite the gathering being filled with people of high standing from across the martial world, it endured.
Step.
Beside the flagpole Imperial Hero Hyeon Won-chang had driven into the ground, the hem of a black robe shifted slightly.
Seom-ye stood beneath the white banner of Desolation, dressed in a pitch-black long robe. His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyelids lowered slightly.
At last.
His exceptional looks, martial strength, and bearing drew admiration. Murmurs began to rise from all around.
“What an otherworldly presence. There was a boy like that in the martial world?”
“They say the Mount Hua Sect's Sword Absolute's equal was the former Leader of Demon Wings. A Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress can discuss martial arts alongside the immortals of the Nine Sects. Such people are hard to see even once in a lifetime. Could there even be a hundred in the vast Nine Provinces?”
“At that age… I can hardly believe it, even seeing it with my own eyes!”
Nearly a thousand people watched the boy from every direction. Some looked impressed, some dazed, and others openly disbelieving.
Even those who lived at major crossroads of the realm could not quickly receive news from afar.
Carrier pigeons were rare, and carrier spiritual beasts raised by the elven race were used only by a very small number of prominent families.
This was an age when rumors traveled by people and horses. Information about the systems of the world's countless organizations was unreliable as well.
Even if a young boy wore a black robe, it was difficult to grasp his martial prowess without witnessing his martial arts firsthand.
“Could a sword form like that be attained with mere spiritual medicine? Its refinement is impossible to measure.”
“I heard rumors that he had made a name for himself in Sichuan, but…”
Even the few who had seen Seom-ye in Clear Night Valley in Southern Zhili felt the same.
Less than a year had passed since he, as a Blue Uniform martial artist, had faced the Changnyeong Flower Lord Namgung Mi and the Namgung Young Family Head, Clear Qilin.
Only a few months. Such a rise in martial skill defied common sense.
One swordsman in the crowd muttered, “Did he live for over a decade in Peach Blossom Paradise, where time stands still?”
“Step down.”
Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin, spoke to Seop Un-cheol, who stood unsteadily with his hair disheveled.
The Radiant Zen Sword no longer held the same light in his eyes. It was as though his soul had scattered along with his hair.
He did not seem inclined to object to the one-exchange result.
It was impossible to know what impression the Leader of Demon Wings' sword had left on him, having witnessed it firsthand as his opponent.
“Your true martial arts…”
Seop Un-cheol slowly began to speak.
“Thank you for showing them to me.”
He raised his sword in his left hand and placed his right hand over it. Because he was holding his sword, his fist-and-palm salute was tilted slightly to one side.
The blade that had passed Seop Un-cheol's neck scattered the light.
It was a form of etiquette altered to their own taste by the elven race during the wars of the late Yuan. In the present martial world, it was used to express particular satisfaction with a match.
The boy's eyes widened slightly.
When they had first met, Yeon-shin had seen greed on the other man's face. He had thought him no different from those of other prominent families.
Now, he seemed different. His composed bearing and expression made that clear.
When it came to martial arts, could anyone in the orthodox martial world wear an expression like Clear Qilin's in the end?
“Conserve your strength. I wish you good fortune.”
Step.
After offering those brief words of encouragement, Seop Un-cheol turned away. He did not wait for the Leader of Demon Wings to return the courtesy.
He sheathed his sword and stepped down from the platform as though ashamed of his earlier behavior.
Yeon-shin had heard that weaker martial artists sometimes underwent a change in body and mind after glimpsing a fragment of a master's martial principles.
He grew curious.
What had Seop Un-cheol seen in the path of that nameless sword art, which even Yeon-shin did not yet fully understand?
‘It doesn't seem like hypocrisy.’
They might meet again. Warmth swirled in the Baihui acupoint, where spirituality was taking root in his upper dantian.
It felt as if it were briefly speaking to its body's owner, telling him that this might become a good connection.
He looked around.
His eyes swept over the martial artists, merchants, escorts, powerless commoners, and beggars seated around the platform.
He also saw masters leaning against or standing atop the watchtowers arranged in every direction, each dressed differently.
People who lived complete lives.
He had never taken in such a crowd all at once.
The boy's gaze sank as it swept over the masses. Every face within his view bore a different expression.
The envy and admiration of strangers brushed past his vision and reached him through the aura sense of his upper dantian.
‘So many people, living fifty years, living a hundred years…’
Praise felt burdensome. Jealousy was laughable.
The reactions to Jeong Yeon-shin's talent as a martial artist were like a revelation that made his lifespan feel real.
The deepest inferiority lay within the boy himself.
What did it feel like to live a life where the cliff was far away? Though this was not a world where many people lived out their natural lifespan…
Jeong Yeon-shin blinked once. He closed his eyes fully, then opened them.
“…This Squad Leader will not rest until the sun sets. Next, come up.”
The Leader of Demon Wings raised his lashes as he spoke.
Standing upright on the platform, he looked lofty. Streams of wind from Force Projection flowed from his entire body.
It was Wind Body, the movement technique. A gentle breeze began to brush ceaselessly against his black robe.
Though he seemed completely still, the force wave of the Body Movement Scripture stirred, making many martial artists flinch.
They knew without facing it directly. Anyone could see that it was a superior martial art.
Suppressing his inner thoughts, the boy took his place as a Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress.
The crowd's expressions changed.
There was even a trace of interest now. The mood became fitting for a festival.
Desolate Fortress had always been a major faction supported by the people even more strongly than the Nine Sects.
Unless they were connected to the Martial Alliance Assembly, few would dislike seeing a young Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress openly display his martial strength.
“I am So Jun.”
The One Hero of Yeoju stepped forward first. It was the natural course of things. Acting Chief Strategist Jegal Cheon entered the canopy where the Martial Alliance Assembly's leaders had gathered.
Deep shade swallowed the handsome middle-aged man, while every eye remained fixed on the platform.
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly watched So Jun, the One Hero of Yeoju.
The middle-aged man could not hide his discomposure. The One Hero of Yeoju was facing the Leader of Demon Wings.
He had watched the boy exchange a single sword strike with Seop Un-cheol from the closest position. He seemed to have accurately judged the difference in their martial prowess.
Still, he could not withdraw now.
So Jun respectfully offered a fist-and-palm salute. His bearing was fitting for a martial artist of the orthodox sects. As an established master of the orthodox martial world, he was respected by many.
“I was born in Yeoju, Shaanxi, and trained at One Origin Martial Academy, a secular branch of Kunlun. I am a lowly martial artist who has only clumsily learned the martial lineage of Kunlun Sect's offshoot.”
“I am from Xinye County, Henan. I inherited Desolate Fortress's Demon's Light.”
The boy returned the courtesy with a brief reply.
He did not provide more information than necessary.
Rather than confirm that the martial arts he had cultivated most were his unique arts, it was better to let them search for counterforms to martial arts that had never existed before.
Among the more than forty established masters he would have to face were the First Fist of the Eon Family and the Mount Hua Sword Absolute.
Those were epithets he had heard even before Jeong Family Manor was destroyed. Their renown was tremendous. They were said to be capable of contending even with Black Uniforms of Desolate Fortress.
Taoist Cheon Ju, the Mount Hua Sword Absolute, was Ma Jin's equal.
For a newly appointed Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress to stand a chance against established supreme masters of the Nine Sects, he would have to push his innate senses to their limit.
‘The key is how little of my own martial arts I reveal before I reach them.’
To do that, he needed to overwhelm his opponents.
The boy stared ahead. So Jun, the One Hero of Yeoju, approached with strange footwork.
Thud. Thud.
Something changed every time his heel struck the ground. It was the direction of his aura. Dust twisted around his feet.
The ripples spreading through his power were peculiar, swaying with mysterious profundity.
It was as though they declared that he could step in any direction and extend a powerful sword anywhere.
Kunlun had been one of the Nine Sects before its destruction. Everyone knew that. Martial arts descended from a secular branch of Kunlun Sect could not be taken lightly.
The crucial moment would come when qi fully entered that unpredictable footwork. A fatal strike would follow with the drawing of his sword.
Thud!
A faint wind swept across the platform's floor. The crowd held its breath as they watched the coming clash.
Whoosh!
The moment qi-light flashed in So Jun's eyes, the force wave accumulated through that nameless Kunlun footwork transformed into immense momentum.
White dust rose from the platform and curled around the area. So Jun's figure rapidly grew larger in Jeong Yeon-shin's view.
He had already drawn his sword. He had fully loaded it with the force of the Body Movement Scripture.
He truly was an established master. His prowess was at Blue Uniform level, tempered by experience.
‘The next page.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the Comprehensive Guide to Breaking the Orthodox Sects.
As he studied the One Hero of Yeoju's footwork, he slowly stepped forward. It was just before his opponent stepped diagonally forward.
The paths So Jun's legs would take and the direction of his aura formed intricate lines in Yeon-shin's mind.
It was a realm of prediction, breaking down the directions of the Eight Trigrams into countless pieces, yet the Baihui acupoint at his crown and the upper dantian beneath it remained calm.
Only a single footprint was left on the still surface of his mind.
Step.
He stepped forward, sending qi into the Liangqiu acupoint and Xiyangguan acupoint around his leg joints.
The muscles of his thighs stood sharply defined beneath his trousers, while the calf muscles on either side of his knees relaxed lightly.
It was Force Projection through the lower body. He had mixed the principles of Wind Body into his footwork.
Swish!
So Jun's face twisted in shock as he passed by Yeon-shin's side. His decisive strike had been rendered useless by a single step.
Only the fierce gale of the force wave remained. The black sleeve of the Leader of Demon Wings rose high.
The boy did not let him go. As if it were nothing, he reached back and seized the One Hero of Yeoju by the nape.
So Jun's hair was short. The violent pulse in his neck throbbed against Yeon-shin's grip. He seemed profoundly shocked.
‘Radiant River.’
He sent qi into the Laogong acupoint and Shaofu acupoint in his palm.
Still holding So Jun by the nape without looking at him, a current of power stirred in a spiral through his palm. So Jun flinched.
Ever since the Leader of Demon Wings had stepped through the main gate of the Martial Alliance's main headquarters, a storm of rumors had swept through the gathering as people sought information about Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin.
Most of the assembly now knew the details of the public battle in Clear Night Valley.
They even knew the name and power of the terrifying palm art named by Clear Qilin Namgung Se-jin.
“I yield!”
So Jun shouted with his back turned. The boy immediately withdrew his hand.
It was enough to strike at the Martial Alliance's prestige with Radiant River. He had taken another step toward completing his mission.
The crowd reacted at once. This time, there was no silence.
As though they had only now remembered why they had come to enjoy the Martial Alliance's grand founding ceremony, cheers began to rise everywhere.
The murmurs of hundreds spread like wildfire.
“What a spectacle in Hanzhong!”
“Wasn't that another single exchange? One step, one move!”
“What an outstanding young man… If he is from Desolate Fortress, he would be more than satisfactory as a marriage prospect…”
Overwhelming martial strength stirred the noble spirit in people's hearts. The excitement was intense.
Even if several people vanished from the spectator stands, it would not have been noticed.
The Ye Clan's cherished young lady sat aloofly in the empty seats. Yet no one was in a position to care.
Even the exchange of courtesies between the One Hero of Yeoju and the Leader of Demon Wings was swallowed by the noise.
“I saw this Squad Leader's gaze. I felt as if I would be drawn into it. This So offers his thanks. Thank you for taking me seriously.”
“Your footwork was profound. It broadened my knowledge.”
The boy spoke.
So Jun, still holding his fist-and-palm salute, blinked once before bursting into hearty laughter.
“The honor is mine.”
Perhaps he had taken it as a compliment. Jeong Yeon-shin had meant it sincerely. Another page had filled within the Comprehensive Guide to Breaking the Orthodox Sects.
If he continued to build it one piece at a time, he might create the third sword form of the nameless sword art before facing the Sword Star.
If it came to have three or more forms, he could bind them into one complete flow, one sword art.
That would be the birth of the Leader of Demon Wings' signature ultimate technique.
“Another challenger, come up.”
The boy spoke.
The cheers grew louder. The grand founding ceremony, which would continue for four more days, had entered an entirely new phase.
* * *
The next day.
A meeting of the Martial Alliance Assembly's leaders was held.
There were thirty people in attendance. For the upper ranks of the martial world, it was an exceptionally large gathering.
Along with the heads of many great families and their heirs, the Ye Clan's Family Head and a niece or nephew were also present.
Footnotes:
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