WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 239: Opening One's Eyes (3)
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The slaughter wrought by the light swords had ended.
The shoulders of the twenty-eight people standing on the plain rose and fell gently. It had been a large-scale battle. They had left hundreds of demonic-path martial artists mangled or dead.
Even after displaying such overwhelming bursts of lightness skill, it was only natural that they needed to catch their breath.
The sleeves of the Hand Arts masters had blackened, while blood dripped steadily from the swords held low by the Swordsmen, splattering the ground.
Radiant Art Formation was a Divine Technique with clear strengths and weaknesses. Its overwhelming breakthrough power came at a cost.
Such was the way of the world. Only by expending vast amounts of qi could one work miracles.
Still, its effectiveness was undeniable.
The carnage of this sect war's life-and-death duel proved as much.
“Haaah…”
“Ugh, ugh…”
The brush and dirt were stained dark red. The stench of blood rode the cold wind and spread in every direction.
Chunks of flesh shattered by Force Projection and scattered by force waves, pieces of corpses cleaved in two, defeated fighters releasing pained breaths because their inner-energy breathing gave them the faintest sliver of life…
“Is this… haaah… a dream?”
“It feels… so satisfying.”
“Don't act tough.”
Even if the people of Xi'an in Shaanxi were known for their hardy disposition, it was not a sight anyone could properly bear to watch. Even those with considerable nerve turned away.
Fortunately, there was somewhere else to look. The true climax of a sect war was always said to be the life-and-death duel between its leaders.
The plain in Daewol Gorge was no different.
“Only the sect masters are left!”
“Haaah, how is this going to end…?”
“The Sword Demon Sect Master really was defeated, wasn't he? Xi'an will be thrown into chaos!”
“A combined attack by the sect masters will be different. Aren't they masters whose strength we can scarcely comprehend?”
“They brought masters of that heavenly level. Won't they show something incredible even against the three great masters?”
More spectators than the dead martial artists of the seven unorthodox sects craned their necks to look down. Many had gone hungry.
A rare spark of life rose in their hollow, drawn faces. It was a cruel sort of excitement.
“Please… please…”
Some prayed as though bowing before a shrine. As if Maitreya had manifested, they prayed for the deaths of the unorthodox sect masters.
Hands braced against rocks and heads turned toward the black-cloaked young Swordsman.
The sect masters of the Seven Great Sects of Xian and an unknown supreme master.
As hundreds of gazes gathered, the cliffs enclosing the gorge grew quiet.
The mountain range stretching toward the horizon of the Guanzhong Plain shone a vivid green, while the lowering sunlight spread pale and white across the land.
The greenery was dreamlike and lush. It suited neither the carnage nor the standoff.
It created an odd atmosphere.
Until the man with a great saber strapped to his back, standing with the sect masters of the Seven Great Sects of Xian, opened his mouth.
“You said you wouldn't take more than ten breaths?”
He looked unconventional from the start.
His upper body was bare, as though he meant to display his external arts. A scar that began at his abdominal muscles skipped over his neck before reaching his cheek.
It was a horrific sword wound. How was he even alive? The heat of his burning martial power, radiating from his entire body, only made the sight more unbelievable.
Bu Jo-wi, the Great Wind Blade Freak.
He was the master of the Jongcheon Saber Sect.
He was considered Xi'an's strongest saber wielder. His reputation crossed the boundaries between orthodox and unorthodox sects. They said his saber arts rivaled the heights of Zhongnan sword arts. He was a master of the Jongcheon Saber.
He was also known for habitually saying that he did not fear the immortals of the Nine Sects. Though he had seen the Sword Demon Sect Master defeated, fighting spirit blazed from his square face.
“No matter how strong you are…”
Just as his deep voice rang out, the current Leader of Demon Wings took a step forward.
Grass crunched beneath his foot. Wind stirred where he pushed against the ground. Light-wheel energy spreading from his Yongquan acupoint burst into driving force.
Boom!
His heel was driven fully back. Even though he contained the aura within his body as much as possible, his qi circulation remained unhindered.
His control over inner energy was growing stronger by the day.
It was the capability of his upper dantian, which continued to expand without his notice.
Whoosh!
Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes. Fierce recoil struck him. He could feel the powerful wind whipping through his hair and clothes even through the gaps between his fingers.
He did not hesitate to enter the range of the six sect masters. Bu Jo-wi's twisted face rapidly grew larger.
The man's reaction was fast. He drew the great saber from his back and brought it down in the same motion.
The air split to either side, and blades of grass bent low on both flanks. It was a force wave carried by the saber strike. It rushed forward, pulverizing brush and clumps of dirt.
Boom!
To use such a large technique, his reaction speed had to match that of a swift sword at the very least. As a master who wielded a heavy weapon, he seemed to have focused on Sensory Training.
The transparently blazing force wave reached Yeon-shin's nose in an instant. The saber wind alone could tear through bricks.
‘He isn't easy.’
Yeon-shin felt the nature of the unorthodox path against his skin.
How many unorthodox sect masters shared food that preserved one's health, spiritual medicine, and profound secret arts with all their disciples? Very few, surely.
That was even more true for sects on the scale of the Seven Great Sects of Xian. They said a sect master's authority nearly reached the heavens. It was a structure in which the leader could not help but become overwhelmingly powerful.
Anyone who was not utterly ignorant of the world would know that much.
It was clear from the saber strike before him.
It came in the form of a transparent, razor-sharp slash. It violently tore through space.
Slaaash!
Yeon-shin felt loose strands of hair fall across his forehead. His vision was already warping before his eyes. Staring straight ahead, he raised his left hand.
The light-wheel energy gathered at his elbow split in two and rose like rays of light. The moment he extended his hand to meet the saber's force wave, the powerful wind split into streams through the gaps between his fingers.
The rebound was tremendous. Even with martial power properly wrapped around his hand, he could feel the skin of his palm being pushed back.
The pressure he used to weave opposing qi came in handy. He adjusted it through sensation.
‘Should I try using Radiant River in a different form?’
Yeon-shin's expression sobered slightly.
Bu Jo-wi's eyes widened.
The Leader of Demon Wings did not stop advancing. He charged forward from that first leap, holding his sword low as he cut through the saber's force wave with his other hand.
Through shafts of sunlight rippling from the aftermath of martial power, Yeon-shin's handsome, expressionless face appeared now and then. It was chilling.
“Gi So-seul!”
Bu Jo-wi shouted urgently. He called the name of Chamjeol Pavilion's leader, a master who had perfected strange weapons. She was also one of the leaders of the Seven Great Sects of Xian.
Kiiiing!
Sharp streaks of light flashed in front of him. It was like an untimely downpour had begun. They split the air in every direction, as though connecting the brush to the sky.
They were threads blocking the Leader of Demon Wings' charge. Like an enormous spiderweb, they sealed off every direction with a metallic sheen.
Though they had plainly come plunging down from the front, threads jutted at angles above and below. It was as though spiderwebs had been erected everywhere. They looked immensely sturdy.
The technique itself was an art. Was it a mixture of sorcery arts and martial arts?
Yeon-shin stopped. One strand had nearly touched beneath his chin.
He raised his head slightly and looked past Bu Jo-wi. A woman in a pale-blue silk martial outfit had both hands extended.
Dozens of shining threads ran from within her wide sleeves.
They were the thread swords he had only heard about. Special iron was cut into threads and used as weapons.
‘I heard about this.’
Gi So-seul, the Sharp Thread Ghost Absolute. They said she had once been a performer who played the zither before receiving some strange opportunity and establishing a sect.
She too belonged to the unorthodox sects. Every pleasure house in Xi'an was under Gi So-seul's control. She habitually committed atrocities against her subordinates, kidnapping commoners sleeping at inns, dragging them to pleasure houses, and saddling them with debts.
She was said to indulge in every kind of pleasure alongside Bu Jo-wi, master of the Jongcheon Saber Sect.
Their eyes met.
Though she was elegantly dressed, a ghostly aura clung to her. So did the way she curled her lips upward. Something spectral seeped from her silent smile.
This was the martial world beneath the heavens.
Did every unorthodox founding master known across the land possess such a distinct presence?
“His Protective Qi Technique is a weakness.”
Wi Il-hwa, Sungyeo Branch Master, spoke from behind Bu Jo-wi. Sword qi seemed to gather in her venomous eyes.
She appeared intent on drawing out every bit of usefulness from the eye technique bestowed upon her by the Lord of Yeoryeong.
“It isn't as powerful as his other martial arts. Its framework is shallow. No, not truly shallow. It only lacks depth compared to his other methods. It does not suit his body.”
“The fact that Pavilion Head Gi's Severing Ghost Threads made him hesitate tells us enough. Yeoryeong's secret intelligence network reported that he may be skilled at creating martial arts suited to himself. His Protective Qi Technique must still be incomplete. It would have been more effective for him to refine his other unique martial arts first. If we mean to kill him, now is our only chance.”
Her words came quickly. This was a battle that presupposed lip-speech. Masters who moved their hands like streaks of light would naturally be able to speak just as quickly.
It was the same for the martial artists of Desolate Fortress. Those who had learned lip-speech could speak faster than they moved their hands. The same went for understanding it.
Yeon-shin let the words pass by. He only took note of Yeoryeong's intelligence-gathering ability.
He widened his field of view. They called it Severing Ghost Threads. Gi So-seul's thread swords surrounded him on all sides.
A razor-sharp edge gleamed from them. An ordinary Protective Qi Technique could not withstand them. His movement was restricted.
‘How will they move?’
The question had only just occurred to him when a white robe billowed from his left flank.
Baek Mu-ryang, the Hwigwol Family Head, closed the distance as though an immortal had crossed it in a single step.
His white beard fluttered as he thrust out his palm. A strange roar spread from the formless energy gathered in his palm.
It was a sound Yeon-shin had never heard before. It seemed to burrow through his ears and turn his mind white.
Kiiiiing!
It was the core formula of the Hwigwol Tyrant Art. It suited an unorthodox martial art that tormented its enemies in every imaginable way. Insidious was the only word for it.
At the same time, the web of thread swords opened to either side on its own. Anyone could tell it was Gi So-seul's technique.
It allowed only her allies room to move. The thread swords moved incredibly fast, expanding and contracting as though alive.
A storm rose from the right. Bu Jo-wi had attacked again.
The moment Bu Jo-wi's figure, swinging his great saber wide, filled Yeon-shin's vision, the heavy saber force wave of the Jongcheon Saber slipped cleverly through the gaps in the web of thread swords.
The scraping sound was enormous, as though the atmosphere itself were being torn apart. Before it even arrived, Yeon-shin's clothes thrashed wildly behind him.
Rumble!
As attacks bore down on him from both sides, Yeon-shin watched over Wi Il-hwa's shoulder.
She was a huge woman. Her build rivaled Bu Jo-wi's. Beneath her red sleeves, she held her massive hands together at her waist.
The force wave spiraling up from beneath her feet was monstrous. It felt as though the ground itself were being scraped away.
Dust rose like a whirlwind. Even a faint tremor passed through the earth.
Gang Mu-jeong, the Time-Day Collapsing Mountain Fist.
She was the master of Xi'an's Great Spirit Might Shaking Sect.
Her story was well known.
Born the child of a herb gatherer, she had eaten a thousand-year-old he shou wu. The power of that spiritual herb gave her the greatest martial power among the Seven Great Clans of Xian.
Rumor had it that if she properly unleashed her signature ultimate technique, the Fortifying Tremor Thunderclap Wave, she could shatter even a small peak. They said she had failed to become a supreme master only because she could not release such a force wave all at once in a one-on-one life-and-death duel. As an unorthodox martial artist, she had reportedly received offers to join the military several times.
‘They formed a proper formation.’
Yeon-shin thought in that brief instant.
Gang Mu-jeong, the Time-Day Collapsing Mountain Fist, prepared the decisive blow at the very rear, while Flame-Sprinkling Demon Sword Wi Il-hwa sought a counter with the Lord of Yeoryeong's eye technique.
Gi So-seul's web of thread swords blocked every direction as Baek Mu-ryang and Bu Jo-wi struck through the gaps.
That entire chain of techniques converged on Gang Mu-jeong's Fortifying Tremor Thunderclap Wave.
Yeon-shin read the flow of their linked techniques. He deflected Baek Mu-ryang's wrinkled palm coming from the left.
He had originally intended to shatter Baek Mu-ryang's wrist in a single blow, but Baek Mu-ryang had cautiously withdrawn his strength.
The same was true of Bu Jo-wi's saber art rushing in from the right. The moment Yeon-shin struck once with the sword form of Judging the Qilin, it broke apart almost absurdly easily.
Instead, the tip of the Northern Light Sword caught in the web of thread swords.
For a moment, he could not move.
Gi So-seul smiled smoothly from afar.
“I captured a few specimens of the dwarven race and had them draw out threads by mixing black iron into heavenly silkworm silk. Not even the Sword Star could cut them.”
The Sword Demon Sect Master had died in vain. He had not even exchanged more than a few moves.
The sect masters who had properly prepared were different. They moved on the premise of a combined attack.
Even as they conserved their strength, every technique carried the intent to wear their enemy down and kill him. As though to show that this was the martial world beneath the heavens, they had formed an array meant to kill a supreme master.
“Ah.”
The corner of Yeon-shin's mouth rose slightly. Like plucking a string with a blade, he moved the Northern Light Sword and lightly flicked one thread sword.
It was a gesture carrying the strange curiosity of a boy his age.
“Seven exchanges left.”
He murmured slowly.
Then, with his left hand imbued with Radiant River, he grabbed one of the thread swords.
Footnotes:
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