WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 182: Swordsman (5)
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Rustle.
The enormous round table was brushed by robes of every color.
Figures of exceptional presence took their seats. Their finely tailored, colorful garments gleamed with a soft sheen.
Every piece was immaculate silk. As befitted the orthodox clan elites who devoted their mornings to supreme arts, even their complexions were extraordinary.
They were people who sweated every day in prestigious households. Not one neglected the rites of bathing and purification.
“The sky was remarkably blue. It felt like spring.”
A refined middle-aged man sat farthest from the door. He held a white crane fan with dark-blue silk tassels in his left hand.
His snow-white long robe suited his skin, pale as fresh snow. His narrow face and thick brows gave him a striking appearance.
He looked every bit the father of Immortal Dragon Jegal Hyeon.
He was the Zhuge Family Head.
Some called him the reincarnation of the Crouching Dragon.
It did not mean he possessed the miraculous strategic mind of Zhuge Wuhou of Shu. It meant that he had the appearance and dignity to be spoken of alongside him.
The sorcery arts and martial arts befitting the head of a great family also contributed to his nickname, Crouching Dragon Rebirth. Rumors had even spread that he had reached a realm where he could occasionally influence the weather.
The Zhuge Family Head continued calmly.
“It was hard to believe how magnificent it was, watching the sword of youth cut across the sky. Wasn’t it dazzling and beautiful?”
“...”
He was speaking of Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin.
They had gathered to discuss a response.
The Leader of Demon Wings had insisted on participating in the grand founding ceremony. Mud was about to be splashed over an event intended to announce the alliance’s standing.
The tyrannical might displayed by Desolate Fortress’s young Black Uniform reminded some veteran martial artists of Tyrant Hero Ma Yeon-jeok.
That monster of the Hwangrip Faction, who had worn a purple long robe at the age of thirty.
“I was prepared to endure the humiliation. I made that difficult decision, but it seems all things ultimately return to what is right. The vile scheme didn’t work.”
The Zhuge Family Head smiled faintly.
Silence followed. The mood in the hall did not match his expression. A chill hung over the ancient round table.
No one failed to realize that the true power behind the Martial Alliance Assembly was deeply angered.
“And the Alliance Leader?”
A middle-aged swordsman with fierce eyes suddenly asked.
He was the Moyong Family Head. His rose-colored long robe was a deeper shade than that of his son, Moyong Myeong-jun.
The way he lightly rested a hand on his sword hilt during the gathering was strangely natural. A swordsman hailed as the finest in Liaodong was allowed any eccentricity.
“Ah, I was rambling.”
The Zhuge Family Head’s smile deepened.
“Those words I recited were the Alliance Leader’s.”
“That lone wandering swordsman?”
The Moyong Family Head asked, furrowing his brow.
This was a solemn gathering hall. Only rays of light filtered quietly through the windows. Dust drifted slowly through the glow cast over the table.
No one reacted when the Moyong Family Head casually referred to the Sword Star. Only the expressions of some younger talents, including Jegal Hyeon and Gongsun Min, shifted slightly.
Jegal Hyeon and Ak Ye-rim, who had parted from the Leader of Demon Wings on the West Peak Road, had returned safely.
They had not needlessly headed to Sevenfold Gorge and encountered the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost.
That was because they had received a brief letter through the Jeomchang Sect’s spiritual beast, owned by Little Sword Empress Chwi So-ok. They had already been on friendly terms.
‘This is uncomfortable.’
Jegal Hyeon thought.
No matter what others said, the Leader of Demon Wings he had met was a boy with a rather pure side.
Despite possessing peerless martial strength at such a young age, he had listened to Jegal Hyeon’s words.
When dealing with ordinary people, he had acted like a boy his age. He had also taken Clear Qilin’s death to heart.
He could have lumped Namgung Se-jin in with the Namgung Family and condemned him alongside them.
‘If Seom-ye had been someone from a great family, he would have disparaged the character of the person who died by his hand and insisted that his actions were justified. I’ve seen it far too often. Even in my own family...’
The young Leader of Demon Wings had not done that. He was a chivalrous young man, green as a new shoot. He should not have been made the target of such schemes.
Just as his disillusionment rose to his throat, Immortal Dragon Jegal Hyeon heard a sound transmission.
“Don’t show it, foolish brother.”
The girl seated beside him lowered her eyes indifferently. She swept the black hair tied with sky-blue silk over her neck and did not spare a glance for those in the hall.
Deep Still Eye Jegal Cheong-a. She was Jegal Hyeon’s younger sister.
She had gained fame early as a prodigy of supreme eye techniques. Her beauty, no less remarkable than her brother’s, was also well known.
Jegal Hyeon adjusted his expression upon hearing her sound transmission. He immediately looked toward his father.
Fortunately, the Zhuge Family Head was slowly nodding without looking their way.
The father of the Jegal siblings spoke gently.
“It seemed that our Sword Star has become quite taken with the aptitude of Desolate Fortress’s young Squad Leader. Isn’t that rather surprising? Many of Seom-ye’s well-known accomplishments were achieved with palm arts rather than swordsmanship. He seems more a born fighter than a sword talent, but perhaps the Sword Star saw another side of him.”
“What the Alliance Leader truly thinks is not our concern. We should focus on the uninvited guest. Isn’t this a sorry spectacle? His rampaging has reached a point that is difficult to overlook.”
“Then please share your thoughts, Moyong Family Head.”
“I examined Seom-ye closely and found a sword wound on the lower left side of his abdomen. Extraordinary sword intent lingered in that scar. It was no ordinary sword mark.”
The Zhuge Family Head smiled.
“I saw it as well. It must have been the strike dealt by the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost.”
“Since it is not an injury that will heal quickly, it may be enough to find a way to delay matters gracefully. The more he continues fighting without rest, the worse his internal injuries will become. Our children may even be able to claim victory.”
A colorless gleam flashed through the Moyong Family Head’s eyes as he finished.
Then Miss Ye, seated at one side of the round table, slightly raised her head. Sunlight shimmered along her elegant jawline.
The Ye Clan’s Family Head beside her reacted at once. He was a man neatly dressed in pure-white martial garments, like the Chief Steward of a noble household.
He raised a hand to draw everyone’s attention, then spoke slowly.
“To call him an uninvited guest is flawed from the start. Did we not invite him? We summoned Desolate Fortress’s envoy to bolster the Alliance’s reputation and declare to the world that we did not fear the imperial court’s watchdogs.”
“Are you rebuking us for carelessly rushing our response?”
The Moyong Family Head asked.
“I am saying that we need a more constructive discussion. Delay matters gracefully? No suitable method comes to mind. Instead, what about a ten-exchange bout?”
His words commanded attention. The Ye Clan had established itself during the late Yuan alongside clans such as the Blood Flame Sect and the elven race.
The wealth accumulated through its history as a merchant clan was enormous.
Even after pouring immense sums into establishing the Martial Alliance Assembly, it remained one of its main sources of funding.
That meant its influence within the alliance was considerable.
The Zhuge Family Head looked interested.
“A ten-exchange bout. You mean we should impose conditions on the grand founding ceremony?”
“Isn’t the issue now preserving the Alliance’s dignity? Whether a seasoned supreme master struggles against a young expert, loses, or barely wins after a rotating assault like this, the damage will be great. If we limit the exchanges, it would be an all-out contest without truly being one, and both victor and loser will be able to save face. Let us look at the larger picture. We should not become bound by one individual, the Leader of Demon Wings.”
The Ye Family Head spoke. The Zhuge Family Head lightly stroked his smooth chin.
“Certainly, that would allow the weaker fighter to seize the advantage over the stronger one. It would become a battle with many variables. There is merit in it.”
“We can attach any number of justifications. Times are chaotic, so would it not also be suitable to say that we are preserving the strength of the chivalrous warriors of the orthodox path?”
The discussion continued.
Jegal Hyeon and Jegal Cheong-a listened in silence.
So did Ak Ye-rim, Gongsun Min, and Moyong Myeong-jun. They were not in a position to casually offer their opinions.
The conversation among the adults who moved the upper ranks of the martial world was grave. It remained so until the gathering ended.
The Leader of Demon Wings, whom Ak Ye-rim and Moyong Myeong-jun had rashly invited to a banquet before, walked in a realm clearly separate from the younger generation.
“I heard that you and Seom-ye formed a friendship on your way to the West Peak Road.”
The Zhuge Family Head spoke after leaving the gathering hall. His two children followed him.
He spoke while looking ahead rather than at them. Jegal Hyeon lowered his head slightly and answered.
“We only exchanged a few words.”
“You are unbelievable. Are you saying you did not even dare deceive that child? If it had been your younger sister, she would have learned the name of the maid Seom-ye had loved in his childhood. Information possessed by Desolate Fortress’s Black Uniform should all be treated as treasure.”
“...My apologies.”
“Enough.”
The Zhuge Family Head spoke indifferently.
“Cheong-a, listen.”
“Yes.”
Jegal Cheong-a, walking a step behind, answered softly.
“Clear Qilin’s body has been brought back. We also managed to obtain several corpses of the Heart Martial Union men who fell on the West Peak Road.”
“...”
“Examine them. We have already identified various methods within Seom-ye’s martial arts, but a ten-exchange bout carries great uncertainty. Look from a different perspective. Do not miss even the smallest clue, and report everything. The Leader of Demon Wings is very strong.”
“I understand.”
The girl replied without expression.
Jegal Hyeon’s face twisted for a moment. Nothing about this pleased him.
Neither the way he and his sister submitted to their authoritarian father nor the way that father constantly schemed under the pretext of the greater good.
He shared this understanding with his friend Namgung Se-jin.
As Young Family Heads, they were strong. As martial artists of the orthodox path, they were weak. They had lived that way for twenty-eight years.
Jegal Hyeon watched his younger sister walk away with steady, monotonous steps.
A thought came to him unbidden. He envied Namgung Se-jin, who had met his end according to his own will.
The clear sunlight slanted low. The autumn wind stole time away as it passed.
Jegal Cheong-a had to examine the bodies of those who had fallen to the Leader of Demon Wings. Wounds caused by martial arts revealed a great many things.
The patterns of force waves could be determined from traces of power crushing the body, and the trajectory left in a sword wound could be used to estimate the sword’s path.
It was somewhat easier for her, but only when examining wounds on the living.
The girl had perfected the Zhuge Family’s secret eye technique at an early age. Born to be the eyes of the family, she had been forced to train only in eye techniques.
Her exceptional talent among the family’s younger generation had also played a part.
Even so, this was her first time breaking down martial arts through the traces left on corpses. Her father often expanded her limits, and her brother’s, in this manner.
He taught them how to wear the mask of chivalry while pursuing their family’s interests.
“Miss, why have you come to such a place...?”
“I was ordered to.”
She answered in an emotionless tone.
Passing the bewildered retainers, she crossed the threshold of the secluded hall. Someone immediately guided her.
A man with no expression led the girl deeper inside.
The things passing through her sight felt both familiar and strange. Faint sunlight, dark floorboards, the cold texture beneath her feet.
The moment she entered the room at the end of the corridor, an old family retainer stood guard outside the door.
Jegal Cheong-a faced five people lying with their eyes closed. Her eyes trembled slightly.
Rustle.
The girl bowed to them twice. Her tied hair spilled down in black waves, and the hem of her sky-blue clothes swept across the floor twice.
Straightening, Jegal Cheong-a quietly looked down at Namgung Se-jin’s body.
His closed eyes rested peacefully. His pale complexion stood out.
Though preserved by the sorcery arts of Mount Mao Sect, a corpse was still a corpse. He could not find rest even in death. It was the price of being born into a powerful family and enjoying its authority.
Clear Qilin’s life and Jegal Cheong-a’s own circumstances were both terribly tragic.
“Setting aside the power...”
The girl deliberately murmured as she traced the marks left by the sword that had raced through Namgung Se-jin’s body.
She wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible. She examined the wound that rose to his ribs, then checked the side that had been crushed by palm arts.
She engraved the martial arts of Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings, completely into her mind.
A gleam of inner energy formed in Jegal Cheong-a’s pupils. The color of leaves passed over her jet-black eyes.
‘There is an intent that runs through all his martial arts.’
The girl’s eyes widened. Something came to her from the realm of instinct.
The inspiration that often flashed through the minds of gifted talents responded to Seom-ye’s traces. Her prodigious aura sense surged forth.
Bluish flames flickered in her eyes. Her gaze brimmed with talent.
She thought.
‘Direct. Desperate. Fast.’
A strange emotion rose on the girl’s face.
What could a boy worthy of being called the greatest in the world among his peers possibly lack? She had once thought it unfair for such talent to exist in the world.
The Huangbo Family’s Languid Flame Dragon was said to possess the greatest talent among the great families, but the Sun God Meridian was a constitution that exacted a price.
Why had the Leader of Demon Wings infused his own martial arts with such intent? As Desolate Fortress’s youngest Black Uniform, he should have had everything.
‘The wounds grew deeper. That means the sword force landed properly. The number of effective force-wave strikes clearly increased, which means his martial prowess steadily rose during the life-and-death duel... There cannot be another monster like this in the world.’
For the first time, interest appeared on the girl’s face.
She deliberately nurtured that small emotion. It was to endure the guilt of examining corpses.
Jegal Cheong-a wondered what deficiency the most perfect boy in the martial world possessed.
Just as her brother Jegal Hyeon had formed friendships with Clear Qilin and then Seom-ye, could she and Desolate Fortress’s young Squad Leader come to understand each other through mutual sympathy?
* * *
The Leader of Demon Wings.
Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin’s string of victories continued without end. It continued even after he accepted the proposal for ten-exchange bouts.
The boy was somewhat bewildered. It was a form of duel exceedingly favorable to him.
That was true in terms of stamina and from the standpoint of having to face the Mount Hua Sword Absolute.
The Sword Absolute was the strongest master at the grand founding ceremony.
It was said that he stood on equal footing with Ma Jin in his prime, at a realm where he made flowers bloom through the sword.
His experience with the sword would naturally differ from that of Desolate Fortress’s newly appointed Squad Leader. The longer the exchanges continued, the more likely Yeon-shin was to lose.
‘So I intended to end things quickly, but they made it a rule.’
The boy thought as he faced the leader of the Moyong Family’s Heaven-Treading Sword Squad.
“Rumor has it that you are a Grandmaster. They say every supreme art was created already tailored to your body, so it is no surprise that you displayed such martial strength from a young age. Is that true? I find it impossible to believe.”
The middle-aged swordsman in red asked.
He had narrow eyes beneath a broad space between his brows. The probing gleam in them was exceedingly sharp.
The upper ranks of the Martial Alliance had identified all the martial arts Seom-ye had displayed.
The Leader of Demon Wings’ techniques took the form of single decisive strikes.
His arts combined inner energy that seemed influenced by orthodox Buddhist teachings with explosive martial techniques, each blow powerful. They would have worked exceptionally well in a realm where survival was his only concern.
‘The world of true masters is different.’
The Heaven-Treading Sword Squad Leader looked over the boy’s entire body.
When supreme masters clashed, they competed through flow. That was why they linked moves together, creating the systems of fist arts, sword arts, and the like.
It was also why wandering martial artists could not defeat masters who had trained in orthodox martial arts.
If an opponent could withstand the single strikes and seize the advantage through structured swordsmanship, Yeon-shin would have no choice but to fall helplessly.
The rule limiting them to ten exchanges was unnecessary. The leaders had been needlessly afraid that defeating him might prove difficult.
They had rushed to create conditions where the Martial Alliance Assembly’s martial artists could save face even if they lost. The young Leader of Demon Wings was in a different position.
The Heaven-Treading Sword Squad Leader continued speaking to the silent boy.
“Because your existence is as strange as tales of ghosts and gods, all kinds of rumors circulate. Most are surely nonsense. It is regrettable that we are limited to ten exchanges. Swordsmen form bonds through the vibration of their sword blades, yet I doubt I will feel even a tremor through my grip.”
“You talk a great deal about swords. Has the duel begun?”
Yeon-shin asked.
A long smile formed on the Heaven-Treading Sword Squad Leader’s lips. With relaxed movements, he lightly tapped the hilt of the sword he had not yet drawn.
He intended to use the ten-exchange rule against him. He also had a personal grievance with Desolate Fortress.
After bluffing and defeating him, he planned to greatly lower the standing of the Black Uniform.
“Am I not yielding you the first exchange even now? Come whenever you like. I have already crossed swords with the Lord of the Immortal Wood Spirit among your Black Uniforms...”
Then it happened.
A strand of wind blew through the air.
Suddenly, a sword flashed before the Heaven-Treading Sword Squad Leader’s eyes.
‘What...!’
A blade containing monstrous force split toward his brow. It was as though a gust carved into the air had transformed into a sword in an instant.
He did not know when it had been drawn. A storm spread from the sword tip that rushed in within a moment.
It was a chilling force wave. The scenery around him blurred. His vision filled with a single point.
The Moyong Family swordsman drew his sword like lightning. There was no time to execute a True Step. He simply swung upward.
Slaaash!
The air warped translucently along the sword blade. He felt no impact through his grip. It was a feint that struck at a blind spot in psychological warfare.
Only the cold sensation pressing in a straight line against his neck was vivid.
Only then did he see the boy standing at his side, black robe fluttering as he held his sword there.
A pure-white radiance spreading along the blade settled over the Leader of Demon Wings’ eyes.
A strange transcendence surrounded the boy’s whole body. It was an uncanny presence.
If Bodhidharma had lived as a man of the secular world, would he have looked like this? Perhaps the circumstances made it seem that way.
“So you truly didn’t feel a tremor through your hand! What remarkable insight!”
From the spectator stands, a rascal wearing a sky-blue hero’s headband shouted.
Footnotes:
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