WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 237: Opening One's Eyes

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KRRRRANG!

Demon Wings' charge swept across the flank. Every other sound was swallowed by the thunderous blasts of force waves.

It was as though a mass of light had become artillery shells and exploded. The Demonic Sect's gathered martial force was torn apart.

They had utterly destroyed them. The sounds of tearing flesh and crushed bones began to ring out from every direction. The strike range was immense.

"Aaargh!"

"Ghk!"

The charge itself was a True Step. Blurred figures swung their arms.

Whenever they clashed with the Demonic Sect's strange weapons, shimmering haze burst forth.

The figures whose eyes flashed amid shattered blades inspired nothing but chills.

Demon Wings had appeared at nearly full strength.

There were three White Uniforms and twenty-five Blue Uniform masters.

Boom! Craaash!

Flesh and blood burst apart with horrific sounds. The unorthodox martial artists' formation crumbled in an instant. The strikes of the Radiant Art Formation did not discriminate in their methods.

Fist strikes and sword strikes shot forth as identical force waves. The air was violently swept aside, forcing even the surrounding brush to bend in every direction. Weapons and corpses flew away and scattered across the ground.

Rumble!

The gorge shook. Unceasing tremors spread in all directions, the aftermath of their charging True Steps.

After piercing straight through the formation, they immediately turned and swept over their enemies again. Their movements flowed as one.

Legs wrapped in light struck the ground according to the principles of the Phantom Wing Step. Dust scattered through the white flashes of force waves.

The tide of radiance had become almost a wave.

It swept up those trying to flee first.

The charge of twenty-eight people was separate, yet whole. They drove forward with their full weight behind consecutive strikes, and no one could stop even a single step.

Movements flashing in and out among the streaks of light traced scattered paths through the air.

Force waves exploded without fail at the end of every sword and fist-and-palm strike, driving fragments of their opponents' weapons into their chests.

They could have been called invincible here.

Their opponents were not elites of the Nine Sects and Eight Great Families or the Thirteen Heavens. Demon's Light or divine arts linked to the Seom-ye Martial Lineage were more than enough to slaughter them. One charge had come close to wiping them all out.

Daewol Gorge...

In an instant, it had become a realm of hell. A scene of utter pandemonium unfolded.

"Are they heavenly generals...?"

"What... what is that...?"

"How could people like that exist under heaven?"

Those watching the plain from the steep gorge walls stared wide-eyed. Some stood with their mouths hanging open.

They only reacted long after the light swords had appeared. It could not have been otherwise.

Nothing about the sight before them felt real, from the first whistling arrow to the charge of radiance.

Most of Xi’an's people had gathered as though they were here to watch a public execution. Yet this went far beyond anything they could have imagined. The shock was terrifying.

"Spare... ghk!"

"Aaaagh!"

The unorthodox martial artists who had been so relaxed moments ago screamed. Not one of them could properly withstand a strike from the Radiant Art Formation. That was the difference between a major faction and a middling sect.

The gap was overwhelming. Shin So-bin's jet-black braided hair flew as her fist smashed the ribs of a Sungyeo Branch martial artist. It was a short, sharp blow.

Boom!

"You were happy because you thought you'd win?"

She spoke boldly even as she killed. It was a temperament befitting a promising descendant of a prestigious main fortress family.

She had already excelled at both Demon's Light and the Sihwa Boundless Fist. Now the linked martial arts had layered over one another.

Her attainment in the Radiant Art Formation was incomparable even to that of most seniors. As a White Uniform, she had received tremendous benefits.

She could easily take charge of one axis of the winglike charge.

That was the level of a White Uniform's martial prowess. The Blue Uniform masters ran wild. They dealt with many opponents at once, driving brutal single blows in consecutive attacks.

One sword strike severed three heads, while fist-and-palm strikes crushed weapons and flesh alike.

It truly was an execution. Only the roles had been reversed. It was an execution of unorthodox martial artists.

At the front edge of that formation, the heads of Xi’an's seven clans stood still. Though they were the strongest experts in their camp, they could not go protect their subordinates.

No one spoke, their expressions grave.

They did not dare charge into the battlefield. Nor did they look back.

They stood as if frozen, weapons clenched in hand while only the hems of their finest satin robes fluttered. All seven were the same.

The one before them was the Leader of Demon Wings from Desolate Fortress.

"......"

Baek Mu-ryang, who had spoken of the strength of one's forces, was speechless.

His lips had gone dry beneath his white beard. The mouth that had taught Jeong Yeon-shin the principles of the martial world had stiffened and would not move.

Earlier, he had mentioned a Black Uniform from Desolate Fortress.

It had been purely a joke. Though such a thing was possible, he had not believed it would happen. The world was too vast.

Even if hail fell in Henan, a person in Shaanxi would not prepare a rain hat.

They knew the weather was fair to the whole world, yet they still acted that way. They were human.

He had considered the possibility that Yeon-shin was a supreme expert with a sect behind him rather than a wandering martial artist, but there had been no other way regardless.

There was nowhere to retreat. Fighting to the death was not exclusive to the orthodox sects. If anything, it was an even more essential virtue for the Demonic Sect.

Their strength and reputation were what kept their bowls filled even in years of famine.

They valued them above their lives. They could not show themselves breaking. That was the world of the unorthodox martial realm.

"Those people... are Demon Wings? They're using martial arts none of us have ever seen or heard of..."

The Sword Demon Sect Master, who had glanced back for a brief moment, muttered.

He was a man in a yellow long robe, with sharp eyes and sweat beading on his narrow chin.

Still, as befitted the head of an unorthodox sect, he seemed to possess considerable nerve. He began speaking as though addressing Jeong Yeon-shin, gripping an extraordinary white treasured sword in one hand.

"There are many sects that exploit Desolate Fortress's name. That is why your identity is unimportant."

"...There were rumors that the new Leader of Demon Wings was very young."

Baek Mu-ryang muttered.

His subordinates and disciples were dying.

The sect masters placed survival first.

An unimaginable danger had appeared before them. They spoke on purpose, using their experience to create a sense of composure.

When facing a supreme expert, the most important virtue was a mind as clear and still as a mirror.

They needed to temper their minds like swords. If they simply fell into panic, they would likely die pointless deaths.

The old man who had ruled a Shaanxi family for decades spoke again.

"Doesn't this mean you've lured us into a net and offered us up, Sect Master Wi?"

"......"

Wi Il-hwa, the Flame-Sprinkling Demon Sword, did not answer. She only bit her lower lip.

"We're both martial artists with forces behind us."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke quietly.

His words recalled what Baek Mu-ryang, the Hwigwol Family Head, had said.

"Look here. A fight involving experts without forces behind them is... very complicated, with much to consider. It is on an entirely different level from a one-on-one fight. There is no romance in the martial world here. No one would fault you for retreating now."

It was as though he had thrown the words the Demonic Sect expert had offered him back in their faces.

Baek Mu-ryang's white brows twitched.

"Insolent..."

"Things are simple now, so stop talking and come at me."

The Leader of Demon Wings took the opening stance of Hand Arts.

Swish.

He curled his right fist beside his waist.

Gravel scraped beneath his left foot as he stepped forward. The moment he lowered his left fist diagonally before his thigh, the surrounding brush trembled.

Whoosh!

Even the slightest movement transformed into Force Projection. Every minor meridian throughout his body, deep within his smallest muscles, was filled with power.

Formless aura spread from his whole body. Faint dust was pushed away in every direction.

A Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress.

A master of martial arts stood before Xi’an's rulers.

"Hm."

"That bastard truly..."

The sect masters let out low groans.

There were people who could choke the breath from their opponents with only an opening stance. The Leader of Demon Wings standing before them was such a person.

That was why they had prolonged the standoff while their subordinates and disciples died. An expert's first strike was terribly dangerous.

Life and death were decided in an instant. Unless they fully understood the supreme expert before them, they would suffer fatal injuries before even exchanging two moves.

"Sect Master Wi, have you seen enough?"

Baek Mu-ryang asked while staring forward.

Wi Il-hwa, the Sungyeo Branch Master, had mastered the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique of Yeoryeong, one of the Thirteen Heavens. It was said to be an eye technique passed down through the ages.

If mastered properly, it was said that one could exchange blows on equal terms with opponents of the higher rank.

"...It's difficult, but I can see him."

Wi Il-hwa answered quietly as she suppressed the rage boiling within her. The power she had built over long years had been shattered by people who might not even be from Desolate Fortress's Seventeen Squads.

Only the viciousness unique to the Demonic Sect remained. Even if she tore that bastard apart and killed him by any means, it would not ease her heart. They had become enemies who could not share the same sky upon their first meeting.

The Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique.

It was a supreme divine art. An ancient Lord of Yeoryeong had supposedly created it, and it had been improved from generation to generation as a secret art.

Hum.

A faint image formed in Wi Il-hwa's eyes. With the enemy before her at its center, every route he might take next appeared like an illusion.

Afterimages of the Leader of Demon Wings layered around his body.

The phantoms made brief movements in every direction. She could infer his path even before he struck.

It constantly saw through changes caused by breathing, aura, and muscles. It was the ability of a peerless eye technique.

It allowed her to see through an opponent's coming movements in advance. It was the same now. That wicked bastard's strikes could be read before they happened.

She opened her mouth without realizing it.

"There are too many paths. Far too many... More than I've ever seen."

At first, she saw six layers.

That alone was suffocating.

The Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique was no ordinary eye technique. It was a supreme art because its mnemonic formula filtered out needless possibilities from the start.

That was how the eye technique's intent and qi structure worked. The number of afterimages formed in one's vision was adjusted to the aura of the opponent's martial arts.

In other words, it was reduced to a level one could respond to. It was a peerless secret art that granted immense utility to both its practitioner and their disciples.

Until now, Wi Il-hwa had never seen anyone in Xi’an's martial world with five or more afterimages. Even Baek Mu-ryang, the Hwigwol Family Head, had only four layers of phantoms.

That was because the Hwigwol Tyrant Art advanced especially quickly even among evil arts. It could give someone the appearance of an old man at the age of forty. It was only natural.

If one had three or more options for delivering the optimal strike in an instant, one could be said to possess the caliber of a middling sect's head.

Judging solely by martial attainment, Baek Mu-ryang was the strongest among the Seven Great Clans of Xian.

Yet...

'Fifteen, twenty... thirty-two, no, several times that... ?'

The qi of the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique burned around her eyes. Even the Cuanzhu acupoints between her brows seemed to blaze white-hot.

The more she overheated the Tongziliao acupoints with inner energy, the more afterimages of her enemy appeared. It was enough to make her doubt the qi structure of the eye technique. Within moments, they had multiplied into the hundreds.

How was he using his body?

At this point, predicting his movements before he struck was meaningless. It meant he was the natural nemesis of the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique simply by existing.

Was he performing Force Projection with his entire body? If that was truly the case, even calling him a genius would not be enough.

He differed even from the Lord of Yeoryeong, who had possessed no afterimages at all.

She had never seen anything like this. Was it real?

'Insane...!'

As Wi Il-hwa floundered in panic, the Leader of Demon Wings, who was holding his opening stance, furrowed his brow.

"I showed you mercy before sending you on your way."

It sounded like a remark without context. To the unorthodox sect masters, it was different. They understood it immediately.

He meant that he had intended to preserve their dignity. If they took the initiative, they would at least be able to put up a respectable appearance.

Before they died helplessly in defeat.

"You bastard!"

The Sword Demon Sect Master roared. His voice was filled with rage.

He began striding forward alone, carrying an overwhelming presence.

He had exceeded the limits of his patience. The bastard who had summoned that group of light swords was truly vicious. With a few brief words, he had delivered a terrifying provocation. He was no less ruthless than any Demonic Sect martial artist.

At this point, a mind as clear and still as a mirror had taken a back seat. This was not the time to measure the heights of martial arts.

True Step came first. The Sword Demon Sect Master stomped down.

Boom!

The force in his foot was tremendous. Thick dust rose as it tore through the brush.

His sword draw followed immediately. It released a long streak of white. Afternoon sunlight gathered around the sword blade extending straight above his grip.

He swung outward from his waist. The path of his sword blurred. It advanced with truly terrifying speed.

Whoooosh!

His long exhalation as he struck was heavy. It meant his inner-energy breathing ran deep.

He deserved to be called one of Xi’an's rulers.

The Sword Demon Sect of Shaanxi was renowned for its Solitary Sun Surpassing Sunset Sword Form. It was said to be an extremely lethal sword art, unlike even the secret arts of assassins.

It added vicious variations to the Quick Sword Formula. It was a sword form that dazzled the eye with exquisite speed before slicing the body to pieces.

Behind him, Wi Il-hwa readjusted her grip on her sword. She watched the first strikes of the two figures who were about to collide.

She also observed the auras spreading from the feet of the other sect masters. They had loaded leaps from the Body Movement Scripture like artillery shells.

'I will watch closely.'

She would dissect every one of his paths, then tear his body apart as well.

Wi Il-hwa, one of Xi’an's three great masters, set her resolve beyond the several hundred phantoms surrounding her enemy.

There was a way to deal with him. The moment even one of his strikes extended, the number of afterimages would surely decrease sharply.

He could not draw a sword with the hand he used to deliver a palm strike. Their chance of victory lay there.

Six more experts of the same level stood beside her. She intended to strike at any opening according to the shrinking number of afterimages.

They would not simply stand by and be slaughtered. She only needed to operate the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique in a shorter span of time.

It was a combined attack by seven unorthodox sect masters. It would be enough to seize the right instant.

'I'll tear that bastard apart and kill him...!'

She brought her eye technique to its limit and fixed her gaze on her enemy.

His movement was strange. He was placing one hand against the Sword Demon Sect Master's sideways slash. His strike was not particularly quick.

Rather, it was strangely slow. Someone with that much aura should have been able to strike like a ray of light even without mastering quick sword arts.

At the same time, afterimages rose from his body. They were images formed in the vision of the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique.

A phantom pressing down on the blade with one hand filled her mind in accordance with the eye technique's mnemonic formula.

Almost at the same moment, his movement overlapped with the afterimage. With haughty ease, he pressed down on the sword. It was exactly the same. Such was the ability of a peerless eye technique.

'I caught it!'

The corner of Wi Il-hwa's mouth began to rise within that instant.

She had calculated his next movement in advance. Victory was within reach.

If she was not fighting him alone, if six more experts of equal standing stood with her, then as the Sungyeo Branch Master, she could lead the unorthodox founding masters and speak of their chances.

'His next move is...'

Aura spread from his hand. It seemed he intended to push the Sword Demon Sect Master's blade fully aside.

Then he would draw his sword. That was also what the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique's ability conveyed. It told her that was his only option there.

'His balance will weaken briefly. I need to strike at his lower body there. If I make a full-power strike with all the force in my body, I might take his neck more easily than expected.'

She activated lip-speech to immediately convey what she had thought.

She had already filled the minor meridians extending from her tongue to her Adam's apple with power. It was a technique that allowed an expert to pour out words like a barrage in an expert's perception of time.

That was when it happened.

Her enemy's hair suddenly rippled in a strangely beautiful black wave.

He had lowered his stance as though preparing a powerful punch. His right foot, left foot, and the Sword Demon Sect Master formed a straight line in a horse stance.

He turned only his head to look ahead. It seemed he was staring into the Sword Demon Sect Master's eyes.

Her enemy pressed down on the blade with his raised left hand, then spread his right hand wide and extended it forward.

In that instant, the image of his hands in Wi Il-hwa's vision divided apart. They resembled the wings of a moth fluttering against firelight. The suddenly multiplied afterimages swayed in every direction.

Had the Dark Motion Transcending Time Technique malfunctioned? Such a sight should only have appeared when he was in a natural stance immediately before striking. It meant entirely new possibilities.

There was no other explanation.

His opening stance had no value. It meant that any stance was the same as a natural stance.

The moment aura spread from the left hand pressing down on the blade,

KRRRANG!

The Sword Demon Sect Master's sword shattered into pieces.

The dazzling sunlight gathered on the blade broke apart. Her enemy thrust his right hand toward that spot. An immense force of release swirled at the center of his palm.

Boom!

A short, powerful sound rang out. The shattered sword fragments were driven forward by his palm, straight toward the Sword Demon Sect Master's abdomen.

It was as though his palm art held every bead of sunlight under its control. The sight was chilling.

Her enemy's eyes flashed as he extended his hand, and Wi Il-hwa's concentration shattered from her shock.

Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash!

Every fragment of the sword embedded itself in the Sword Demon Sect Master. The Sword Demon Sect Master's upper body jolted violently. He convulsed with tremendous force.

"Kuh..."

He let out a strangled groan and fell. A dull thud rang out.

Even amid the screams spreading from the rear of the formation and the collisions of force waves, it sounded unusually clear. Dust that rose belatedly wrapped around the Sword Demon Sect Master's body.

It was a sight that brought silence.

Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at Wi Il-hwa. His gaze swept precisely over the acupoints on her face. Blue lightning flashed in his clearly defined black-and-white eyes. It was an omen of something to come.

"Didn't you see this?"

The Leader of Demon Wings asked quietly.

Footnotes:

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