WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 248: Punishment, Bond (5)

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An order to arrest a fourth-rank official came from the mouth of an unorthodox sect leader.

‘What?’

Could such a thing happen? Even seeing it firsthand, the words and actions were hard to believe.

Prefect Wang Wi-su’s jet-black eyebrows drew together at once. What had this lowly bastard just said?

The Investigator reacted first, cautiously studying Jeong Yeon-shin’s cold eyes.

“Get out of the way!”

The red silk tassel tied to the sword hilt at her waist flew up. A powerful aura rose from the left hand gripping her sword.

It was the drawing stance of the Golden Collar Autumn Flower Sword Form.

Even in Beijing, it was known as a sword art of the highborn. Once unleashed, force waves shaped like flower petals swept through the surroundings.

It was a sword technique favored by Beijing’s upper class, where high-ranking officials abounded.

‘The Radiant Art Stronghold Leader is frighteningly strong. But the internal and external injuries are severe! I have to deal with the leader first, no matter what!’

Just as the Investigator urgently reached for her sword hilt with her right hand, a long streak of white light suddenly flashed from the ceiling to the floor.

Swish.

It brushed past the Investigator’s shoulder and came to rest. There had not even been the slightest sign. It was as though a grim, chilling killing intent had taken the form of a single line.

Beyond the pale haze, Hyeon Won-chang had already bent one knee and lowered their body. The knot of the hero’s headband fluttered behind Hyeon Won-chang’s head.

The expression was indifferent. The tip of the sword, unstained by a single drop of blood, rested against the floor.

The Investigator’s right arm fell beside it.

Splash!

“Aaagh!”

Blood burst from the Investigator’s shoulder a moment later. It was the aftermath of a killing sword honed to terrifying smoothness.

Hyeon Won-chang had woven their own swordsmanship into the Radiant Art Formation.

The Investigator who governed the thousand-year-old city of Xi’an had been disabled with a single strike. Within Demon Wings, none surpassed Hyeon Won-chang at concealing their presence and delivering a sure-hit sword strike.

Hyeon Won-chang had truly reached the level of a Blue Uniform of Desolate Fortress. Every member of Demon Wings had steadily followed their Squad Leader.

“Stop!”

Prefect Wang Wi-su, who had risen halfway from his seat, shouted.

He was not rebuking the Radiant Art Stronghold Leader. Raising a hand behind him, he stopped his mounted martial artists from forcing their way through the inn’s entrance.

“The one who cut down the Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword has spoken of immediate execution. You rabble should fulfill your duty as subordinates and put away your weapons. Do you intend to harm this official?”

“Some officials are rather quick on the uptake.”

Cheong Myeong, who had appeared out of nowhere, smiled faintly. Cheong Myeong had descended with astonishing speed and natural ease.

The elven race’s Body Movement Scripture had the bearing of an assassin, yet carried power behind it.

White light glinted along the blade lightly held to Wang Wi-su’s throat.

“……”

The inn, quiet to begin with, fell into even deeper silence. Dust motes stood out in the faint sunlight filtering through the window frames to one side.

The Prefect’s martial artists, who had forced their way to the entrance, stopped in their tracks. Shock filled every face.

Wang Wi-su groaned.

“Your audacity reaches the heavens. You are no ordinary unorthodox group. Who are you?”

“That is none of your concern,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, seated calmly by himself.

Wang Wi-su let out an incredulous laugh.

He understood the value of exceptional martial artists as well as he understood the great authority he possessed.

A person who could command elite masters of major factions without moving so much as a finger.

Even among officials and martial artists alike, that was an extraordinary position.

His own martial prowess and experience might not measure up to the sect leaders of the Thirteen Heavens and Nine Sects, but he possessed strength that came somewhat close.

Meeting Jeong Yeon-shin in person made that clear. The Investigator, who had looked down on disciples of the Seven Great Clans, was writhing on the ground in agony from a single sword strike.

That was why Wang Wi-su held his chest even higher.

It was a world where the strong devoured the weak. In an age where one’s bearing proved one’s worth, if he wished to leave alive, he had to display his authority all the more splendidly.

Unlike the Prefect of Yunyang Prefecture, who had died silently in keeping with a gloomy nature, Wang Wi-su had a far better background, greater skill in navigating the world, and a city of far higher standing beneath his control.

He spoke as though reciting poetry.

“Do you know where you stand and what you have done? This official was born and raised in the Prime Minister Wang Family of Beijing, and personally witnessed His Majesty’s sword dance, close to divine in its might. His Majesty personally bestowed my rank and honored me by saying he would remember my face. No matter how lofty your martial arts or how capable your subordinates, in broad daylight you dare act against this official…”

Then.

The beautiful woman standing beside the Radiant Art Stronghold Leader parted her lips. The cold presence surrounding Baek Mir-yeo was just as severe, and Baek Mir-yeo’s voice was as frigid as a winter gale.

“You are the one who has no idea where you stand or what you have said. Officials throughout the realm may not be able to update all seventeen facial-feature portraits at once, but you look utterly ridiculous.”

“Seventeen? What is a mere attendant martial artist babbling about…”

Wang Wi-su suddenly fell silent.

A brief silence passed.

The martial prowess that had faced the Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword, the strange words and behavior, the way they treated a Prefect as nothing, the remarkably young face, seventeen people… Wang Wi-su was not a fool.

The panic in his mind slowly became fear, sending a chill racing up the back of his neck.

“It seems… there has been a misunderstanding.”

Prefect Wang changed even his manner of speech. He had no choice.

He had walked straight into a tiger’s jaws.

Baek Mir-yeo was right to call it ridiculous. Could there be anything more absurd under heaven?

He had personally committed an offense against Desolate Fortress’s newly appointed Squad Leader, whose momentum must have been soaring. After dominating the Martial Alliance’s grand founding ceremony, Jeong Yeon-shin’s reputation must have spread enormously.

Swish.

He clasped his hands in salute.

Though the gesture did not normally require one to lower one’s head, he bowed deeply as well.

All the arrogance of a man born to a prestigious family and holding high office vanished from his bearing. He lowered himself as though facing the late Empress Dowager.

“The vast Shaanxi region has become entirely the Peach Blossom Paradise of the Demonic Sect. The destruction of Zhongnan was that painful a matter. For an official to survive, there was no other way…”

Slash!

Black energy warped beside Wang Wi-su’s ear. It was qi manifesting in a refined form.

Energy like a thread drawn from the abyss severed his ear and seeped into the blood.

“Do not defile the ears of the person before you. You would feel the same way.”

Baek Mir-yeo spread and curled slender, pale fingers as Wang Wi-su’s excuse turned into a scream.

Though he twisted on the ground beside the groaning Investigator, the guards could not rush forward. Prefect Wang had shown the utmost respect only moments before.

“What is this…”

The leader in dark-blue martial garb standing at the inn entrance muttered in bewilderment. The scene before them was the exact opposite of what had been expected.

They had assumed they would naturally share a drink, yet only blood had splashed. Surrounded by masters they could not hope to approach, there was nothing they could do.

Under sunlight that shone down with almost indifferent brightness, they were bound one after another.

* * *

What should have happened from the beginning moved quickly after the bloodshed.

The Prefect and the Investigator were locked in the inn’s underground storeroom. It was practically imprisonment. There, they had to meet the armless Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword.

Shin So-bin and Kang Chang-mu, meanwhile, brought in all manner of documents.

They were scrolls recording the actions of Xi’an’s officials, stolen after infiltrating the government office with their swift Body Movement Scripture.

The Prefect and Investigator’s faces turned pale once they fully understood the situation.

What had they done before Desolate Fortress’s Squad Leader?

There was no room for excuses. Fear that their throats might be cut if they spouted sophistry stiffened their expressions.

“Not just one, but an entire chain of them is involved, so executing them all on the spot would be more trouble than it’s worth. I heard the Eastern Depot is already groaning over this. Eunuch Myeong Yeo has lost power completely.”

Cheong Myeong crouched on the musty underground floor and spoke as if to himself.

“Just, just kill me instead! If you release my paralysis acupoint, this official will take his own life!”

They had used ranks bestowed by the Emperor to pursue personal gain and deceive the people. The Xi’an officials’ grave crimes would not end with their execution.

The Great Ming Code was extremely strict. This was a matter that called for the execution of their three clans. The moment the case reached Beijing, their entire families might face punishment.

Wang Wi-su was asking for everything to be buried with his own life.

The timing was poor, though.

The Leader of Demon Wings had already lost interest in them.

“What should I do? It is outside my authority.”

Cheong Myeong smiled.

On the inn’s first floor above them, Baek Mir-yeo finished interrogating the Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword and reported to Jeong Yeon-shin, blood dripping from Baek Mir-yeo’s fingertips.

“It will not be easy. Zhongnan disciple Jeong Hye…”

The young Leader of Demon Wings felt an immense loss of strength. Jeong Yeon-shin’s whole body gradually seemed to sag.

Jeong Yeon-shin had not shown it to the companions, but the backlash was severe. The drawback of martial arts meant to ignite explosive power for short, decisive battles was felt keenly.

The messages received through Blood Guard Squad Leader Jin Myeong-jo and Desolate Fortress’s secret intelligence network after imprisoning the officials were another problem.

[Shaanxi, Linzhao Prefecture. The Tyrant Sword Sect Master has left seclusion at the Tyrant Sword Sect’s main headquarters. Traveling south alone, at a pace the subordinates cannot match.]

[Shaanxi, Hanzhong Prefecture. The Blood Flame Sect’s First Apostle has appeared. Traveling north with terrifying lightness skill.]

[At the center, Shaanxi, Fengxiang Prefecture. The Lord of Yeoryeong’s First Sword has appeared. Wi Geuk-sang, the First Demon of Shaanxi, destroyed Mount Hua Sect’s Plum Blossom Sword Formation and escaped.]

[Mount Hua Sect Leader, the Starflower Sword God Yulha Nangnang, has descended the mountain carrying the Purple Haze Divine Sword.]

‘Something has to be prepared. Either recover, or create a fourth sword form.’

It was a fair price for facing a master at the highest level, but Jeong Yeon-shin had been born with a fate that required shattering even such limits.

Shaanxi was a battlefield for major factions.

Jeong Yeon-shin could face another supreme master at any time.

‘I need to devise the next sword form of the Thunderclap Flash-Ridge Sword Art. A sword form that will not overburden my body.’

Many things came to mind.

At this point, Jeong Yeon-shin had countless sources of inspiration. Rumors of the orthodox martial lineages of Shaolin and Wudang Sect, the principles of martial arts overheard from Desolate Fortress blood relatives and seniors, even gusts of wind that brushed against the skin without warning.

The upper dantian, shining white in Jeong Yeon-shin’s mind, whispered that there was nothing impossible.

‘It has to be that way. You, at least, have to say that.’

As Jeong Yeon-shin sorted through the inspirations passing through his mind and watched Baek Mir-yeo’s lips—

“Hm…?”

It was as though lightning had suddenly struck the Baihui acupoint atop his head. A sharp sensation rose, and Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision tilted to one side.

At the same time, his sight blurred. Baek Mir-yeo’s cry became muffled in his ears.

―Seom-ye!

* * *

Nine days earlier, at the Demon Wings Hall.

Miss Ye of the Martial Alliance Assembly had grown fairly close to Demon Wings’ unranked disciples. Her friendliness played a large part as she approached them with a smile while they practiced the Radiant Art Formation.

Desolate Fortress was a warlike faction. It could not be otherwise by nature. At the Training Hall called the Martial Arena, disputes were often settled through fighting.

It was a collective of martial artists who hunted and killed other martial artists.

The children readily accepted Miss Ye, who had faced their seniors.

They naturally spoke often of their Squad Leader as well.

Gathered closely in the Training Hall, the children told the beautiful and powerful guest many things.

The Lord of Desolate Fortress had personally approved her entry into the main fortress, so they had no reason to suspect she would harm their Squad Leader.

“If you mean why our Squad Leader does not succeed the Ma Family… perhaps it is because there is no need to? With that face, at that age, with that martial prowess, and the Lord cherishing our Squad Leader as well, what could possibly be lacking? Besides, the Ma Family already has an heir. Ma Se-in, who is now called the Shield Hero.”

“Ma Se-in is rather close with our Squad Leader.”

“Ma Se-in is a good person! Ma Se-in’s mother is the problem.”

“That’s right.” The children nodded among themselves. They had just told Miss Ye, at least roughly, where their Squad Leader had gone.

“Ma Se-in’s mother?”

“She is wicked. She once persecuted our Squad Leader. There was another serious incident recently, so I heard she is confined in a corner of the Ma Family estate now. She is from a collateral branch of the imperial family. Her name is Ju Yeon-jeong.”

“Ju Yeon-jeong…?”

That afternoon.

The right arm of Lady Ju Yeon-jeong, who had been reclining in a secluded pavilion, flew away. Her piercing scream spread through Desolate Fortress with the sunset glow.

Just as her head was about to be cut off as well, the current Ma Family Head, wearing a black prosthetic arm, descended like a ray of light and deflected Miss Ye’s hand blade.

Her second strike failed.

After briefly glancing at the opponent’s face, Miss Ye showed no particular regret.

With a gait that could have been an escape or a stroll, Miss Ye drifted away gracefully, with only a sleeve torn by Ma Jin’s Demon’s Light. Ma Jin did not make any effort to capture her either.

“Just as the Lord warned me. Was she called the Inner Chief Strategist of the Martial Alliance? I cannot fathom her true thoughts.”

“You’re a fool. There is no one in the world simpler than I am.”

That was all.

Miss Ye vanished without a trace from Desolate Fortress’s main fortress.

Footnotes:

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