WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 210: Turmoil (4)
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Baek Seo-gun had long enjoyed the wealth and power of a major unorthodox faction.
Like the other supreme masters of the Thirteen Heavens, she had made a name for herself. She had been called a monster of the martial world.
Unlike the orthodox martial world, the martial world of unorthodox sects did not concern itself with petty rules.
If one's sect possessed enough influence and one's martial strength was so great that enemies were hard to find, one could enjoy a life that left one no reason to envy any Prince of Commandery.
She had acted as the Sword Venerable of the Demonic Sect and buried the life she had lived as a servant. She had to.
It was not a world that cared for a person's roots as much as the orthodox martial world did, but if her lowly origins became known among the leading figures of major factions, she would inevitably be mocked.
One's origin was one's foundation. The hometown where one was born and raised was one's root.
It was a natural perception. The martial world was the same. It was full of martial artists who regarded their sects as equal to their hometowns.
It was a world where one's native place held exceptional meaning.
Jeong Family Manor in Xinye County, Baek Seo-gun of Jeong Family Manor, Baek Seo-gun of Xinye County...
Boredom settled into her heart, dulled by wealth and glory.
She was unlike the elders of the Heart Martial Union, who enjoyed refined pleasures until death. She had lost her sense of excitement remarkably early.
Was it because she had turned away from the years that had become her foundation? At some point, even the precious aroma of Dragon Well tea had become as bland as plain water.
Even when she drank Xifeng Liquor, famed throughout the world, she felt no intoxication.
The Eldest Young Master of the Heart Martial Union, who had declared his affection and tried to cling to her without knowing his place, was insignificant as well.
She had felt nothing even when she cut his face with her sword. If the Alliance Leader had taken issue with it, she would have walked out of the Heart Martial Union herself.
She had no desire to leave the union of her own accord after growing accustomed to wealth and glory, but Baek Seo-gun's life became more tedious by the day.
Then, a master from Jeong Family Manor emerged into the martial world.
After asking the Alliance Leader, she crossed swords with Seom-ye with genuine pleasure.
The youth possessed a certain refinement. Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin's high guard stance carried an air she had missed terribly.
The Go Ten Precepts.
The high guard stance embodied one of the well-known principles of Go. Even if one sacrificed a stone, one had to seize the initiative.
The stance followed the maxim, “sacrifice stones to seize initiative.” It could also refer to something of great significance.
Baek Seo-gun, the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost, was so skilled with a sword that people called her a sword ghost.
She sensed the martial intent contained within sword arts more deeply than most. All the more so because the swordsman she had exchanged moves with was the blood relative of Jeong Ban-ak, whose noble features he so closely resembled.
She realized anew that the years she had spent growing up in Jeong Family Manor had not been worthless.
She fully recalled Jeong Dae-myung's kindness toward her when she had been a servant, as well as Jeong Ban-ak's teachings.
In a sense, Seom-ye had helped her find her roots.
“How absurd.”
She muttered as she looked down at Jeong Family Manor's second son.
A different face came to mind.
It was a face that carried Jeong Ban-ak's beauty.
Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin. The third son of Jeong Ban-ak of Xinye County.
She had thought he must have grown up under teachings unlike any other in the world.
The traces of the youth technique that had refined his entire body to a brilliant degree, the sword-gripping method with which he held the hilt in a calm yet aggressive posture, and martial accomplishments enough to establish a school in his own right all seemed to speak of instruction from a distinguished family.
She had regarded him as a young nobleman raised so nobly that he need not envy even the Young Sect Master of the Ming Cult.
Even his extremely arrogant nature had not seemed like a flaw. The familiar manner of speech he used as a Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress had even felt warm.
‘How could something like this...?’
Baek Seo-gun, the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost, recalled drinking with the Hao Clan Leader.
She had not poured a drink, only received one. Sitting there as though it were natural, she had heard a deeply shocking story.
―...He was not raised gently. That is the rumor about Seom-ye of Desolate Fortress. Very strange, is it not? They say he built up his martial ability on his own at that age. Xinye County became a backwater after that evil ghost ran rampant at the end of the Yuan dynasty, so I do not know how much one can trust the words of those villagers.
She had received a facial-feature portrait of Jeong Family Manor's second son from the Hao Clan Leader.
She had come to confirm the truth of the rumors. Even while crossing the ground with lightness skill, she had doubted them.
Could a child who forged such elegant sword paths truly have grown up unloved?
The eyes of the Seom-ye she had met then had looked somewhat lonely, but she had assumed his disposition was due to the destruction of his family.
To her, Jeong Family Manor had been a fairly warm martial family.
Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin was...
He was the legacy the Family Head of Jeong Family Manor had left behind before his death. A jewel polished with radiant meaning.
He had grown up in a third-rate martial family and become a Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress who could discuss the affairs of the world. He was a child who gave even greater value to Jeong Family Manor, where Baek Seo-gun's childhood remained.
She had not wanted to believe the Hao Clan Leader's words. Not until the panicked Jeong Joong-san opened his mouth.
―Father kept his distance from him. He did so from the day he was born.
It had come from the mouth of Jeong Family Manor's blood relative. Those first words struck her harder than the attacks of countless supreme masters.
―Ban-ak truly...? I have mastered an eye technique beyond what your little mind can comprehend. The instant I see falsehood in your expression, I will tear out your sinews and crush your bones. Ban-ak kept Seom-ye at a distance? Why did he do so?
―I-I am only telling the truth! In our county, they said children whose birth killed their mothers were all unclean children!
―Continue.
―There is a Daoist temple called Spiritual Marvel Daoist Temple in the village! The Daoist who acts as its master said the same thing. He said Yeon-shin was a child who harmed the energy of the land... No one wanted to befriend Yeon-shin. Father made it so because he bore the responsibility of being the great landowner.
―Surely not, such ignorance...?
For days, she gave nothing but water to Jeong Joong-san, the Zhongnan Sect disciple.
She heard many stories and asked even more questions.
Baek Seo-gun, the Spirit Sky Sword Ghost, was the second-strongest supreme master in the Heart Martial Union.
As a person of power in the Demonic Sect, she was accustomed to draining people dry.
Jeong Joong-san, who had grown up pampered, did not have the capacity to endure her interrogation. Day and night, he had to spill every detail of his younger brother's life.
His trembling voice carved itself into Baek Seo-gun's ears.
Everything was beyond her imagination.
A sharp, colorless force wave flashed between her brows. The divine sword fastened to the sash at her waist writhed on its own.
It was because her heart and qi had become one.
The secret art of qi sword control had manifested through Three Flowers Gather at the Crown. It was a realm where sword control responded to one's emotions.
Baek Seo-gun's lower lip trembled slightly.
“That bastard's stubbornness went that far...!”
Jeong Ban-ak was a damned bastard. He had given the servant Baek Seo-gun pleasant memories, then left the Sword Venerable Baek Seo-gun with immeasurable shame.
Her hand trembled. It felt as though the time she had spent with Seom-ye was only yesterday.
The sunset that had stretched the shadows of the two of them long between the valleys of Sevenfold Gorge remained a fond memory.
‘But that child...’
He had risen alone.
―If I had not made a great choice, I would have held your hand and walked through Xinye County with you. This will have to do. You received all the love I could not give you. Your complexion looks so healthy.
She recalled what she had said to Seom-ye. What else had she said?
―I almost wonder how they raised you.
“...”
Her lips parted slightly. A long, soundless breath escaped like a groan.
The Sword Venerable of the Heart Martial Union could no longer feel blameless. That was how the sensation piercing her chest felt.
The years she thought she had reclaimed had been sullied. Seom-ye had not been polished by Jeong Ban-ak's hand. He had been stained by it instead.
“It seems you are not entirely inept. Zhongnan Sect's pursuit is closing in. The signs surrounding us are quite chaotic.”
She spoke as though reciting a verse, lost in deep thought.
Jeong Joong-san flinched and looked up at Baek Seo-gun from his knees, but she did not even meet his eyes.
How could she swallow this shame and guilt that cut into her heart?
“You said Zhongnan is preparing for an attack by the Tyrant Sword Sect. I will lend you a hand.”
If she brought several heads of Tyrant Sword Sect masters as an offering, might she earn even a little favor from her young master?
She was even willing to join forces with those Zhongnan rabble and face the Tyrant Sword Sect Master.
‘It would be too difficult to go meet him empty-handed.’
She had experienced Seom-ye's nature firsthand. Though he did not seem like it, he had deep affection for his subordinates. He might treasure his nephew in Zhongnan Sect more than most.
It would be fine even if she was wrong. As was well known, Jeong Yeon-shin and the Tyrant Sword Sect had become enemies even on Mount Zhongnan.
The heads of those Tyrant Sword Sect bastards should be enough for a greeting.
The Sword Venerable's thoughts went where they pleased.
She had heard that Seom-ye had encountered the Namgung Family in Southern Zhili.
Demon Wings under the newly appointed Squad Leader had already become famous for many tales before setting out in earnest.
Those at the level of the Thirteen Heavens' leadership sometimes received even more secret information.
One such rumor said that the White Qilin, born to one of a family's assassins, a hidden sword, was a subordinate of the Leader of Demon Wings.
Swish.
Baek Seo-gun's white hand suddenly brushed her ash-gray hair behind her ear.
She thought to herself.
I will become your hidden sword.
* * *
Ma Ung, a White Uniform martial artist, was a master of the Desolate Ma family.
He was a rising talent who had donned white martial robes at the age of twenty.
His future was very promising. Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin and White Cat Shin So-bin of Demon Wings were simply unusual cases.
If he hoped to enter the Divine Sword Squad someday, numerous martial units would reach out to him.
‘I do not want to fall into decline.’
With Ju Yeon-jeong, the family's imperial daughter-in-law, and Ma Jin, who had recently taken office as Family Head, locked in conflict, Ma Ung had sided with Ju Yeon-jeong's faction.
He had done so despite being Ma Jin's collateral cousin. It was a decision he had reached after long deliberation.
He had watched the martial arts of the family's elders grow disastrously weaker.
The former Family Head was the prime example.
Ma Yeon-jeok, the Tyrant Hero.
He had reached Purple Uniform around the age of thirty and shocked the world. Ma Yeon-jeok's days then were close to legend.
They said he could readily stand in for the Lord of Desolate Fortress, who rarely moved. From his youth, he had spread the banner of Desolate Fortress far and wide.
‘But.’
Even such an unparalleled absolute master could not avoid decline.
That was the nature of the Ma family's martial arts. It was an overbearing martial art that cultivated its practitioners too quickly out of loyalty to the Lord of Desolate Fortress.
Practitioners of the Harmonizing Splendor Divine Art soared quickly, then fell early.
Its nature was not much different from the martial arts of the Demonic Sect.
It was a matter of the family's circumstances and customs, so even the Lord of Desolate Fortress did not intervene. Only blood relatives could speak on a family's internal affairs.
Yet the family could not let go of the Harmonizing Splendor Divine Art. Their old hereditary martial art was the treasure that had built their reputation as Desolate Fortress's foremost martial family.
Instead, they sought to compensate for its flaws by bringing in the principles of other martial arts. It was that valuable.
Among the prominent families under the main fortress, the Desolate Ma family had produced the greatest number of masters.
Even the proud Chief Steward's Office always expected to draw military strength from the Ma family. Their momentum was like an eight-horse carriage.
“No abnormalities on the flank.”
“Let us switch positions for a moment.”
In a garden surrounding a small pavilion, five martial artists shifted to their respective positions.
One leaped onto the pavilion roof, while the other four guarded each direction in secret. Ma Ung stood at the front gate.
Desolate Fortress was an enormous place. It had many remote areas like this.
The sound of insects rang clearly. A dim wash of light flowed over thick pine needles.
The clear glow of the sunset carried a faint scent of winter.
Autumn had departed, carrying a piece of Ma Ung's heart away with it.
‘Madam Ju is right.’
Ju Yeon-jeong, who possessed the imperial martial art Golden Immortal Eight Methods, had summoned Ma Ung separately and given him an order.
Ma Jin, who had become Family Head in haste, was behaving suspiciously, so he was to closely watch the condition of Ma Yeon-jeok, the Supreme Family Head.
Ma Ung was, in effect, a spy for Ju Yeon-jeong's faction. He served her of his own will.
It was to bring the Golden Immortal Eight Methods fully into the family. He believed it was for the family's sake.
On his way here, he had already left markers several times.
Ju Yeon-jeong's subordinates should be following the trail.
Ma Yeon-jeok, the former Family Head, was a matter of major importance in himself. He required the utmost protection.
Ma Jin, the newly appointed Family Head, was not in a position to move him around alone.
Even if it was done in utmost secrecy, the Ma Family Elder Council's consent was necessary.
Now, it was only a matter of time.
The political blow that would fall upon Ma Jin would be enormous. Ju Yeon-jeong, who had built many connections through the Golden Immortal Eight Methods, would make sure of it.
That lofty imperial noblewoman never failed to obtain what she sought.
The senior members of the Desolate Ma family who stood with her faction would think it could not be helped.
‘Family Head, please forgive me. The family must change.’
Just as Ma Ung apologized inwardly, a fierce gust suddenly swept over his face.
Boom!
His vision shattered before the terrifying aura of a Blue Uniform master who had descended before him like an illusion.
Behind him, a woman with exceptionally dark, long hair opened her lips. She, too, wore a blue long robe.
“Cheong Myeong, why did you attack without asking permission?”
It was Baek Mir-yeo, the One Lotus Sword Plum. No one in the main fortress failed to recognize her character, martial arts, and beauty, all as sharp as a treasured sword.
“Do not be upset, just listen. The Squad Leader authorized me to attack first and report afterward. To me alone, that is. Anyway... This bastard feels wrong. That is how he looks to me.”
The face of the handsome man in a blue headcloth drifted farther upward. Had he deployed the Body Movement Scripture?
No.
Ma Ung realized too late. It looked that way because he was falling.
‘Demon Wings... Demon Sword of the elven race...!’
He barely turned his head. Ma Ung's eyes widened as though they would split apart.
When had they appeared?
The hem of a pitch-black long robe fluttered.
Whoosh!
More than ten Blue Uniform masters had already landed on either side, surrounding the area like a wall.
They were Demon Wings martial artists he recognized. At that moment, the aura blooming from their bodies swept over the brush like a tidal wave.
An escort wall of overwhelmingly powerful elite warriors was a symbol reserved for Black Uniform masters. It was an authority stronger than any martial art, almost mystical to ordinary people.
The power to crush every scheme at once.
The Squad Leader had arrived.
Step.
Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings, crossed the pavilion's threshold with calm steps.
No one could stop him.
Footnotes:
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