WeTried Translations

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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 200: Demon Wings

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Jeong Joong-san donned his martial attire and descended the mountain.

His neatly arranged yellow robes suited him well. With his rugged features, he possessed the bearing of a martial artist.

Quite a few people now recognized him even at the foot of Mount Zhongnan.

He had grown more accustomed to being known as a registered disciple of the Zhongnan Sect than as the second son of Jeong Family Manor. His days had been devoted to training.

Three months earlier, he had finally been freed from attending to the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan.

"You've grasped the basics. You're no longer a freeloader, so you may go down the mountain."

That was after he had learned the opening forms of the Great Primordial Invisible Sword. He had immersed himself in training until he could perform the sword forms skillfully even with his eyes closed.

It was because rumors of his half-brother reached him whether he wanted them to or not.

Every time he went down the mountain, he heard something unbelievable.

"They say some boy stepped forward in the duel between Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Family."

"Clear Qilin died, didn't he? It's both tragic and astonishing. Doesn't that mean a rising talent greater than Namgung Se-jin has appeared?"

The first rumor had been that the Namgung Young Family Head had been slain.

He was someone Jeong Joong-san would have revered if they had met at Jeong Family Manor. A young master often compared to Sword Dragon Weiji Myo-hwa.

Yet news that he had died at Jeong Yeon-shin's hands had reached Xi'an.

Jeong Joong-san had reunited with his younger brother after Yeon-shin became a White Uniform of Desolate Fortress. It was hard to believe.

Still, he could not dismiss it outright.

He had seen the martial skill and talent of the brother he had once despised. The sword strike that severed Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword's neck belonged to the realm of exceptional talent.

Even if Yeon-shin had joined forces with outstanding masters such as Sword Dragon, Mu-ryeong Fist, and Cliff Sword, there was no denying it.

Jeong Joong-san had thought his brother's name would shake the martial world someday. That day had merely come early.

As time passed, even that became the least of it.

"Country folk who came up from Sichuan on business were saying something strange. They said the Ten Perfect Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance had nearly collapsed, reducing the volume of trade..."

"That tells you how much the extravagance of those major unorthodox factions* swelled the flow of goods in the area. It all came from the common people's lifeblood, didn't it? Traders traveling between cities may complain of losses, but the people's praise must have filled the valleys of Sichuan."

"So many supreme masters died. The Ten Perfect Sect's Fierce Sword fell to the Tang Family Head, while Pure Demon Divine Hand, Sword Scorpion Demon, and Saber Fist Demon died at the hands of Desolate Fortress's Seom-ye. They say the Sichuan martial world is in upheaval..."

"Seom-ye? Isn't he the boy who fought Clear Qilin fiercely? That must be an absurd rumor."

"Well... they call him the Leader of Demon Wings now, so it's probably true. The deeds of Desolate Fortress's youngest Squad Leader are quite clear. Even a modestly sized merchant guild is well informed, and they tend to judge matters more sensibly than most martial sects."

"Even so, how can anyone believe that? Unless you're from Huguang or Sichuan, how would you know? Everyone knows it is difficult to improve one's martial arts. Desolate Fortress must be using an outstanding young talent as its public face."

"Let's wait and see. There are rumors that the Leader of Demon Wings took part in the Martial Alliance's grand founding ceremony."

It was a conversation Jeong Joong-san overheard in a market in Xi'an.

The streets were bustling.

Xi'an, below Mount Zhongnan, was an enormous city filled with people. Processions from merchant guilds and escort agencies hauling goods were everywhere.

Merchants laid out their wares and chatted among themselves. Inn attendants strolled lazily outside and held open the doors. Wandering martial artists roamed about, gathering rumors.

Though many shops had closed because of the famine, the city was still lively.

Several men stood with their hands behind their backs at the side of the market street, discussing the state of the martial world.

Their clothes were not ordinary. Their green and blue long robes were immaculate. They were the owner and tailor of a fabric shop fairly well known in Xi'an.

'It isn't an absurd rumor.'

Jeong Joong-san stopped walking. He almost said something to the fabric shop owner who had called it nonsense, but held back.

He was ashamed to act like an older brother now. Their stations did not compare. He was a disciple newly admitted to the Zhongnan Sect, while Jeong Yeon-shin was the Leader of Demon Wings in Desolate Fortress.

He felt deeply indebted to Yeon-shin. As the Zhongnan Sect's benefactor, his younger brother had restored the pride of both Jeong Joong-san and his nephew.

He should have stepped forward for his brother, but memories of his younger self flashed through his mind.

It was a sight that crushed the dignity of Jeong Joong-san, disciple of Zhongnan.

'Damn it.'

It had been about seven years ago, yet it still felt like yesterday.

At the village festival hosted by Jeong Family Manor, he had kicked away the hand of a boy holding a bowl of noodles in a corner and scolded him to return to his room.

"Do you want to join us? You look ridiculous standing there and watching, so I kicked you. Go practice some petty martial art instead. It was called the Jeong Family Youth Technique, wasn't it...?"

Jeong Joong-san remembered his own words.

Children from the village had jeered along behind him. They knew that the direct line of Jeong Family Manor looked down on the third son.

That must have been Jeong Yeon-shin's tenth birthday.

Their father had said they needed to drive away the misfortune of the child who had killed his mother through the earth energy of Xinye County.

On his son's tenth birthday, he gathered the villagers and prayed for peace in their fields.

The people of Xinye County, who had been freely fed meat and wine, happily praised the head of Jeong Family Manor.

Jeong Joong-san, who had acted as the leader among the village children, had done the same.

That was only one example.

Similar things, or worse, had happened often.

It was a past that now filled him with hellish regret.

The more deeply he accepted Zhongnan's stern teachings, the more his guilt and shame grew.

The people of Xinye County were likely anxiously wondering when the Desolate Fortress Squad Leader might pass through their village as well.

"They say the Huangbo Family's Young Family Head serves the Leader of Demon Wings. Perhaps Languid Flame Dragon deserves a considerable share of those achievements? Even if Seom-ye truly is the Leader of Demon Wings. Above all, their experience must differ."

"You keep saying that even though I said we should wait and see. Do you hold some grudge against rising masters?"

Regardless of Jeong Joong-san's feelings, the fabric merchants continued discussing the Leader of Demon Wings, a contender for the strongest among those of his generation.

Rumors of the martial world were great entertainment for the common people.

Who was stronger, what achievements had been made, what martial art deserved to be called the finest in the region...

Then it happened.

The fabric shop owner in green suddenly collapsed.

His neatly woven, grass-colored robes kicked up dust. At the same time, a woman's cold voice sounded.

"There is no exaggeration in the rumors of Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings."

The voice came from beside Jeong Joong-san. Had she sent a Finger Wind at the fabric shop owner?

The moment he sensed her presence, the tailor's horrified cry was the last thing he heard before Jeong Joong-san's consciousness faded. A faint prickling touched the back of his neck.

He had helplessly yielded his sleep acupoint. Despite possessing the qi of Zhongnan Sect's Great Primordial Static Training, sleep overwhelmed him.

"Shopkeeper! No! My apologies! I-I failed to recognize such an esteemed person..."

The tailor hurriedly bowed, his figure narrowing in Jeong Joong-san's vision. Then darkness swallowed his sight.

He staggered after losing his balance for a moment when an icy sensation closed around his forearm.

It was an inhuman touch. A firm grip seized him roughly.

It was the hand of a supreme master. Though his mind was fading, fear rose like wildfire.

'Tyrant Sword Sect...?'

The second son of Jeong Family Manor thought of the rumors that the Tyrant Sword Sect Master was heading north.

Jeong Joong-san had been on his way, under orders from Zhongnan Sect's leadership, to place an order with a grain merchant. Perhaps the Tyrant Sword Sect had arrived before the sect could stockpile enough food.

After that faint speculation, time skipped past his consciousness. At some point, the sensation against his back changed.

It felt as though he had been dragged into an alley, while the noise of Xi'an's market reached him from far away.

Smack!

The impact on his cheek shot to the crown of his head. It felt as though he had been struck with the back of a hand.

Winter was still some time away, yet cold spread through him as if he had been buried in snow.

"Wake up."

It was a voice perfectly suited to an overbearing tone.

His captor did not treat Jeong Joong-san gently. With a single gesture, his consciousness became sharp as lightning.

Her control of qi was terrifying. She seemed to have briefly used a small amount of inner energy to stimulate his mind.

"Ugh..."

When he opened his eyes with a dazed groan, the tips of short gray hair tickled his vision.

A black sword hilt at the woman's waist gave off a terrifying presence.

It had contained profound power for so long that it seemed to swallow darkness itself. It was a divine weapon imbued with its owner's spirituality.

She was different.

Even her aura was different. It pricked Jeong Joong-san's skin as though it had taken form.

She had to be one of the rarest masters in the world. Other than the Nine Sects, Eight Great Families, and Thirteen Heavens, no other possibilities came to mind.

The person who had forcibly brought him here was a supreme master who walked the skies.

"Are you Jeong Joong-san, son of Jeong Dae-myung? If you lie, I will subject you to tendon-rending and bone-dislocating."

Her voice was like frost settling beneath autumn sunlight. It scraped coldly along the back of his head.

Tendon-rending and bone-dislocating, when performed by a supreme master, was an exquisite torture method possessed by only a few in the world. They said it truly made one feel flesh and bone being pulled out of place.

Because qi kept the victim conscious, they could not even faint to escape the pain.

'This is insane...!'

A hostile supreme master stared down at him in an alley off the market street.

Panic rose slowly, then raced toward terror. Extreme fear tightened around his mind.

"...Yes."

Jeong Joong-san answered as though forcing the words through his throat.

"You do resemble him a little..."

The woman's voice trailed off. Suspicion filled her face as she quietly studied him.

"Bloodlines truly are strange," she muttered to herself.

Then she spoke again.

"I command you. Tell me everything you know about Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin's childhood."

* * *

It was a day when the sunlight was blue. Desolate Fortress's emissaries, now more than ten times as numerous, stood beneath the transparent sky.

The Heaven-Treading Forest Squad had more members than Demon Wings. Even more people had come to see them off.

Some had come under the Zhuge Family Head's orders to examine Seom-ye's martial arts.

Jeong Yeon-shin had sincerely accepted their sparring challenges, wishing to study their martial arts closely.

They had filled the pages of the Comprehensive Guide to Breaking the Orthodox Sects, yet they had also shown goodwill toward the Leader of Demon Wings.

That was what his position as a Desolate Fortress Squad Leader did. He appeared to be someone who remained humble despite holding great status.

Many masters, including the Cheongil Sect Master of Fujian and Seop Un-cheol, his first opponent at the grand founding ceremony, offered polite farewells.

"We will protect the common people of our region so that we do not shame the Squad Leader."

"Regardless of what happened with my brother-in-law, I admire you. May you return in triumph."

Jeong Yeon-shin raised both hands in reply, but his attention remained on Namgung Hwa-shin.

White Qilin, who had seen his elder brother's corpse again, had worn a thoughtful expression the entire time.

How did he feel as a younger brother? Yeon-shin could not easily guess, because he held no particular affection for Jeong Joong-san.

'I should ask Senior Ak for advice.'

As he considered the feelings of the subordinate he trusted most, Yeon-shin became newly aware that he had become the head of a martial unit.

Once Namgung Hwa-shin returned to the Swift Heaven Wing Squad, they would not be able to meet for a while. There was much to keep in mind.

When he returned to the main fortress, he needed to reorganize Demon Wings. It was necessary to strengthen their forces.

The journey back would pass quickly. He had to think carefully if he wanted to replenish the Blue Uniforms who had suffered so many casualties and train the unranked disciples.

They said competition between Squad Leaders was fierce. The achievements of their subordinates were the prestige and accomplishments of the Black Uniforms themselves.

'Assignments won't always be given only to small groups.'

Yeon-shin was thinking that when someone spoke.

"Thank you."

Ak Ye-rim of the Shandong Ak Family filled his view.

Her loosened hair covered the white cloth at her shoulders. The spear shaft slung across her back shifted loosely with each breath.

She respectfully clasped her hands in greeting toward Yeon-shin. Her manner of speaking had changed.

"I, Ak Ye-rim, have learned much from the Leader of Demon Wings of Desolate Fortress. I apologize for troubling you with my foolish pride and rashness."

Clear Qilin Namgung Se-jin's body had been laid to rest in the Martial Alliance Assembly's communal cemetery. The grounds were vast.

It was a place for wandering martial artists among the Assembly's warriors, those without a sect to which they belonged.

Sword Star's increasingly proactive attention ensured that no disgraceful incident would occur.

The Namgung Family could not claim the body.

The most shameful incident in the world had been exposed. They could only wait for the rumors to die down.

At the gates of the Assembly's main headquarters, where countless people came and went, the Leader of Demon Wings' victory at the grand founding ceremony was one of Hanzhong's foremost topics of late.

It was not only the common people who discussed it.

The Assembly's martial artists were even more focused on it. It was that strange and astonishing.

"Also, you allowed my beloved to rest in peace. I cannot thank you enough."

Ak Ye-rim paid no attention to the people watching from all around. Her clasped-hand salute changed into a deep bow.

Respect showed in the way she brought her hands together and bent at the waist. She thanked him not as a martial artist, but as a person.

"May you return in triumph."

Yeon-shin offered brief well-wishes. He concealed his awkwardness within his returned salute.

They had barely exchanged a few words even while traveling together to West Peak Road. He simply did not show it as a Desolate Fortress Squad Leader.

Next came Immortal Dragon Jegal Hyeon.

Warmth filled the Leader of Demon Wings' eyes. His expression changed at once.

*Apostle is used elsewhere as a specific Blood Flame Sect rank. Here, the source uses the same term generically for the unorthodox path.

Footnotes:

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