WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 250: Punishment, Bond (7)
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A hill at one edge of the manor, where a fierce battle raged.
The winter grassland had rusted into an ocher expanse. It remained so even as the swordsmen, who had raced through the air as though flying, landed.
One by one, quiet yet profound presences spread across the hill, seemingly far removed from the clash of weapons below. There were five in all.
Mount Hua Sect's Plum Blossom Swordsman.
The embroidered petals on their white robes fluttered elegantly.
That was the only disturbance left by Mount Hua's Hidden Fragrance Drift. It was an ultimate technique passed down by the immortals of the Nine Sects.
Soft step.
Leading the three Plum Blossom Swordsman disciples, a woman in a pink robe stepped on a blade of grass, an old sword hanging from her waist.
The ocher grass beneath her spotless white socks burst into green.
In an instant, it regained its vivid color, as though spring had been drawn forward.
Though the socks looked fit to be worn only on an immaculate wooden floor, the grass supporting them remained upright. It was the wonder of the Body Movement Scripture.
The Plum Blossom Swordsman disciples who had landed behind her exchanged startled whispers.
“Senior Brother, has the sect leader become a living sword herself?”
“Your question seems to answer itself. How else could this be possible, if not through the living sword of unity of sword and self?”
“You are both wrong. The sect leader's intent is merely affecting physical things. It is a realm of the sword path so lofty that it cannot be measured.”
They had no hesitation discussing martial arts while looking at their sect leader's back. It was not merely because Mount Hua Sect was strict with its enemies yet free-spirited within its mountain.
A young Daoist standing beside her was pointing below like a boy pestering an older sister.
“Master, Master...!”
“Disciple Yu Hyeon, do not rush me. This master was watching the sword of that child you call a friend.”
Her clear voice carried on.
“Did this master not tell you to recall the setting sun? The name itself is the mnemonic formula. Calm your heart fire. If you wish to perfect the Purple Haze Divine Technique, you must breathe according to the Divine Technique's mnemonic formula.”
“I mean that friend down there! His eyes are strange! Isn't that an opium poppy in his mouth? He can be unpleasant at times, but his conduct was as upright as any Daoist's!”
“Mind your words. What part of your behavior resembles a Daoist? It will be fortunate if you do not disgrace Mount Hua's name in the future. You once asked for grain wine at Lotus Flower Peak. Its scent was terribly strong.”
“I do not understand you, Master! How can you be so relaxed when every moment is urgent...?”
“There is something I must confirm, so be quiet. I will now ask the Sword Demon of the Heart Martial Union why they are watching that child.”
All at once, the mountain birds fell silent.
* * *
The manor where Jeong Hye had been taken.
Yeoryeong's branch of the Thirteen Heavens and Desolate Fortress's Demon Wings.
Jeong Yeon-shin committed the scene before them to memory.
Force waves from weapons colliding throughout the manor blurred the sight of the estate crumbling into ruins. Jeong Yeon-shin's focus narrowed to a single point.
The most distant battlefield, where the greatest threat to the Demon Wings stood.
Boom! Kwaaah!
An elderly swordsman in yellow robes unleashed overwhelming sword strikes.
Every time his sword thrust forward, black haze and immense pressure swept over them. His attainment in energy arts was tremendous.
Black smoke, as though he had brought the night sky onto his blade, battered and crushed the surroundings as it scattered.
The power of his materialized inner energy was truly terrifying.
Most of the Demon Wings experts surrounding him could not properly exchange even one move with him before being forced back.
Even Desolate Fortress's elite could only approach and restrain him to a limited extent. It was a precarious balance.
The Lord of Yeoryeong's confidant from the Thirteen Heavens, Shaanxi's greatest demon. Before mastering the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel, Jeong Yeon-shin would have struggled to approach him.
Wi Geuk-sang, the First Demon of Shaanxi, was worthy of being called a match for ten thousand enemies. He had raced across the martial world for a long time.
The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes lifted in amusement, yet they did not seem out of place. Cruel madness gleamed within them. He did not care about the deaths of his subordinates.
“Refined martial arts, and rather decent attainments. You bastards took the Chaneum Twin Demons, did you not? Is that not reason enough for me to personally reduce your attainments to nothing?”
“Hahaha!”
He laughed as he crushed the white streams of the Radiant Art Formation with his sword.
His temperament bordered on eccentric. Though Jeong Yeon-shin had noticed him, Wi Geuk-sang was too absorbed in enjoying himself to care.
A demonic martial artist in the martial world usually referred to a madman who had learned martial arts. The First Demon of Shaanxi was no different.
They said he took pleasure in cutting short the lives of masters who had achieved great heights. He was an exceptional powerhouse with the martial strength to do exactly that.
“Your leader is very young! Once I kill two of you, their face will be worth seeing! Come here! Come!”
Clang! Boom!
The deafening noise and clouds of dust did not stop. The Demon Wings masters who had slaughtered hundreds of martial artists at Daewol Gorge staggered again and again.
The gap in martial skill was painfully clear. Even his taunt about seeing their leader's expression carried an enormous threat.
The majesty of a supreme master.
A great martial artist could single-handedly replace the strength of an army.
That was why the heart of a sect war was a life-and-death duel between the leading masters.
A Squad Leader who had led Desolate Fortress's martial force could not spare attention for the enemy's lesser men. Jeong Yeon-shin had heard it repeatedly from Ma Jin and Ak Su-rim.
The subordinates of the Seventeen Squads were assistants who created a one-on-one situation for their Squad Leader.
A Black Uniform martial artist was meant to walk through the opening made for them and end the battle at once.
‘The situation is dangerous. If even one person sends a Radiant Art Formation force wave in the wrong direction, the balance will collapse. The moment it does, we will all be wiped out, just as the sect leaders of Shaanxi's Seven Great Clans were by my hand.’
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned both feet slightly until the tips of their leather shoes were parallel.
Faint blue currents began flowing from both temples of the Leader of Demon Wings.
The faces of the two White Uniform martial artists guarding the Languid Flame Dragon nearby went pale.
They were the Steel-Breaking Saber Wanderer, Ho Un-cheol, and Jegal Cheong-a of the Deep Still Eye.
Ho Un-cheol, a terribly gaunt man who had transferred to the Demon Wings with the permission of Heaven-Treading Forest Squad Leader Xiahou Wi-jin, normally showed no change in expression. Now, he urgently tried to stop Jeong Yeon-shin.
“You cannot! Not in that condition...!”
Jegal Cheong-a did not try to stop them. Her sharp eyes flashed green as she glanced at the unconscious Languid Flame Dragon.
“You are saying that we should leave this man here while you draw their attention, correct...?”
“Yes.”
Jeong Yeon-shin swept their gaze across the battlefield. As the pain dulled, their vision wavered as well.
There were no fewer than twenty enemies before them, but their forms began splitting apart as though Jeong Yeon-shin were drunk. It was the effect of the opium poppy blossoms, amplified by the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel.
“He came alone! He has no support!”
“His aura is unusual!”
“Kill him first! Deal with those following Lord Wi afterward!”
Their shouts came in multiple echoes, as though they were piercing straight into Jeong Yeon-shin's mind instead of passing through their ears.
It was almost dizzying. A few blossoms allowed Jeong Yeon-shin to ignore the backlash of running for days while disregarding both internal and external injuries.
The opium poppies would not buy much time. Jeong Yeon-shin had to settle this quickly.
The martial principle of swift, decisive battles pursued until now was facing its true test.
“You came here knowing where this is!”
“Attack!”
Jeong Yeon-shin gripped the sword hilt while watching the afterimages of enemies rushing toward them. They had to strain their eyes as well.
Even so, Jeong Yeon-shin could not see them properly. All Jeong Yeon-shin had to do was sweep them away.
Boom!
Wind exploded from the Yongquan acupoint in the sole of Jeong Yeon-shin's foot. It was the force wave of Wind Body. The earth beneath them burst apart. The moment Jeong Yeon-shin kicked off the ground, a tremendous backlash swept over them.
The enemies' murderous faces rapidly grew larger.
Jeong Yeon-shin filled the minor meridians running from their right shoulder blade to their arm with the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel.
The strands of fine muscle trained through the Jeong Family Youth Technique tightened inward at once. Jeong Yeon-shin did not feel the agonizing pain that should have followed. It was thanks to the opium poppies.
‘Wi Geuk-sang, First Demon of Shaanxi. If you will not concern yourself with me...’
Shing!
Jeong Yeon-shin drew the Northern Light Sword.
Then they struck downward.
The blade, which had not been raised very high, accelerated sharply as it fell.
The enemies moved quickly too. The four men and women in front attacked with sabers, swords, and fist strikes, their sharp Force Projection sweeping around them like a bitter winter wind.
Above them, two men holding spears leaped into the air and delivered long-reaching strikes.
The spearheads carved diagonal lines toward the ground with a thunderous roar.
Whooom!
This was the discipline of a major faction. The combined attack closing in with the murderous intent distinctive of the Demonic Sect was formidable.
Jeong Yeon-shin accelerated their charge. They ignored the strikes of the spearmen shooting down toward their crown.
Driving deeper and faster, Jeong Yeon-shin drew a long flash with the Northern Light Sword. A storm raged from the hand gripping the hilt to the tip of the blade.
‘Judging the Qilin.’
Kwaaah! Claaang!
Jeong Yeon-shin broke everything.
Sabers, swords, and gauntlets scattered into fragments. Three enemies were struck by the devastating force wave of Jeong Yeon-shin's sword strike and sent flying as they vomited blood.
The one who met the sword head-on was split in two along with their Protective Qi Technique, toppling to either side. A path opened directly ahead.
It was sword power beyond comparison.
The faces of the two spearmen plummeting from the air filled with shock for an instant. Jeong Yeon-shin passed beneath them and extended their left hand behind them.
They did not even look back.
The vortex that traveled from the Light Wheel in Jeong Yeon-shin's heart to their left hand surged outward violently. Fragments of weapons falling behind them whirled in every direction.
‘Myriad Flowers Rain.’
Slaaash!
Iron fragments shot high into the air and embedded themselves in the enemies' bodies. Dull impacts rang out one after another. The spearmen's bodies jerked wildly in midair.
Blood burst from all over them. Even the spear shafts mixed among the cold blossoms shattered into pieces, increasing the scale of Myriad Flowers Rain.
Jeong Yeon-shin drew their outstretched left hand forward and spread it wide. Without stopping their Wind Body sprint, they executed an uncanny circulation of qi.
Rumble!
The sound of the ground being battered was enormous. The cold petals of Myriad Flowers Rain scattered in every direction.
Its drunken, swaying motion was beautiful and merciless. The vortex of metal rapidly grew until it expanded like a massive waterspout toward the battlefield.
“Radiant Art Stronghold! Something big is coming!”
“You bastards! What...?!”
“Redirect the attack! Do not expose your backs!”
“Do not retreat! Argh!”
The Demon Wings masters knew their Squad Leader well. The moment Jeong Yeon-shin extended their hand, they used the Radiant Art Formation's withdrawal footwork and scattered in all directions. They then finished their individual battles without hesitation.
Yeoryeong's masters did not.
They had not known what was coming.
They had to pay the price immediately.
Flap, flap, flap! Claaang!
Dozens of Protective Qi Techniques were cleaved apart along with fluttering robes.
“W-what, aaagh!”
“It cannot be countered! Run!”
Blood and screams erupted everywhere.
A divine art ranked among the greatest in the world for wide-area combat had manifested from the hand of a Desolate Fortress Black Uniform martial artist intoxicated by opium poppies.
Jeong Yeon-shin had poured a huge amount of power into it without holding anything back. Yeoryeong's unorthodox sect fighters were strewn across the battlefield in an instant.
“...”
The state of those who had failed to escape was gruesome. Many were corpses.
Their bodies and robes were torn so badly that no part of them was left intact. Their faces were too mangled to recognize.
The battlefield fell still. Those who had not cared about an intruder now lowered their swords. Both sides alike.
In the distance, the First Demon of Shaanxi, who had been caught amid the Demon Wings masters' rotating formation, did the same.
The wrinkles around the yellow-robed swordsman's eyes rose slightly. He still did not regard his opponent highly, but he could not completely hide his surprise.
Wi Geuk-sang gradually subdued the mighty demonic arts aura gathered around his body.
“You, that energy...”
“Wi Geuk-sang, First Demon of Shaanxi.”
Jeong Yeon-shin's lips, crooked with intoxication, formed a bright red curve.
“Your face is not much to look at.”
Footnotes:
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