WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 252: Ascent (2)

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It was the climax.

The air wrapped around the skin of his right arm like fine down. It felt as though he were dancing with a sword in a dream.

This was not for the First Demon of Shaanxi.

He did not see Wi Geuk-sang as a person. The man was merely an obstacle blocking his path to his niece.

It made no difference how formidable his opponent was. He was sick of the great evils of the martial world doing as they pleased with his mother's home and the blood relatives he held dear.

It was time, as a Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress, to speak of invincibility.

He could not see clearly. Only the First Demon of Shaanxi's form wavered faintly before him. The painkiller was potent.

'It's all right.'

He simply followed the thread-thin radiance rising in his mind as he swung his sword. He extended his hand so the streak of light and the sword path overlapped in a single trajectory.

It felt as though the hand gripping the sword hilt were being forced forward of its own accord. Jeong Yeon-shin's talent, blazing throughout his body, drove it onward.

A life-saving ultimate move. The preserve of prestigious schools, capable of shattering desperate circumstances.

It was a sword path of lightning.

Light Sword Like Phosphorus.

Hummm!

The essence of the sword form naturally seeped from the crown of his head to his fingertips. It carried the image of thunder and lightning, free and unhindered.

'Break it downward once at the center, then raise it again...'

As the Northern Light Sword shot forward in a dazzling arc, that dreamlike radiance overlaid the blade like a will-o'-the-wisp.

It was the fourth sword form of the Thunderclap Flash-Ridge Sword Art. It warped without restraint, like a hand flailing drunkenly.

At its end came the First Demon of Shaanxi's groan.

"Khk...!"

The instant the lightning-patterned trajectory flickered, the dreamlike world shattered. His vision cleared around the sword tip. Blood was the first thing to strike his vision. It splashed across it.

His sword strike had forced its way past the black blade's defensive form. A red line crossed the First Demon of Shaanxi's chest, a long sword wound stretching from side to side.

Black blood spread above and below it. It marked the path of sword power that had shattered even his Protective Qi Technique.

The result of the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel clinging to the blade and forcing its way into the demonic martial artist's body was truly terrifying.

"You were practically dead...!"

Wi Geuk-sang, the First Demon of Shaanxi, staggered back a step, his mouth twisting. The yellow robes that had billowed stiffly with his tremendous inner energy lost their strength and drooped. He looked utterly wretched.

Hup!

Jeong Yeon-shin trapped an inhale within his body and barely kept himself upright. The flower petals only dulled pain. To maintain his balance, he still had to tense his entire body.

The sword hilt in his grip was hot. Light Sword Like Phosphorus was a counterattack form.

The longer and more deeply his own attack path became entangled with his enemy's, the more lethally the single sword that cut through the contest would strike.

A sword of Sensory Training, one that drew out every last bit of his innate talent. Unlike Nine Verdants Form a River, the second form, which required him to be in perfect condition and accumulate force waves, this form seized a single instant.

Even a decent prodigy would have been fortunate to unleash such a strike by chance, only to be unable to do so again.

It arose from his own body, yet was almost an accident. A sensation that manifested for only a brief instant was usually difficult to recapture.

That was why martial artists of prestigious sects meditated so often.

Seom-ye was different.

'With the image of calling lightning from a clear sky...'

He remembered every flow of qi that ran through his body and every movement of his smallest muscles, turning them into a sword form.

Even the sensation freed from control was recalled in an instant. Letting a martial insight that had come to him once slip away was impossible for him.

The fourth ultimate form of the Thunderclap Flash-Ridge Sword Art was fully woven.

His combat abilities had grown more varied. Jeong Yeon-shin had taken another step toward becoming a complete martial artist.

"..."

Silence fell all around him. Those fighting or watching from every direction stopped moving.

The Leader of Demon Wings' terrible condition and the gap in martial prowess had created an unspoken expectation.

They believed he would lose to the First Demon of Shaanxi and die. Wi Geuk-sang himself had attacked boldly under the same assumption, only to be caught by the counterattacking sword form of a life-saving ultimate move. No one had expected that sword path.

Only the Demon Wings experts murmured among themselves. Some pressed through the encirclement toward him, while others kept watch over their surroundings.

"...Did you see that?"

"Squad Leader's condition?"

"The sword form. I can't believe it... Still, that's a relief."

"You sword-crazed fool, bring out the Golden Wound Medicine already!"

At the center of it all, the First Demon of Shaanxi staggered while clutching his chest. An enormous amount of blood poured through the gaps between his fingers.

At a glance, his injuries appeared no less severe than Jeong Yeon-shin's. This from a man who had posed as the Prince of Commandery of Yeoryeong's Shaanxi branch.

"How can this be...?"

"Lord Wi...!"

The dozens of Yeoryeong martial artists could no longer hold back Demon Wings.

The Mount Hua Sect leader, who had suddenly intervened at the end of the life-and-death duel, stood elegantly off to one side. That alone robbed them of their will to fight.

She watched the Leader of Demon Wings with her white, slender chin slightly raised, like a white plum blossom.

Standing atop the tip of a stiff thicket with the hem of her pink Daoist robe hanging down, she seemed utterly detached from the scene.

Her Body Movement Scripture was a mysterious art of skimming over grass, while her aura carried the transcendence of an unparalleled master.

"The Mount Hua Sect leader... Did she come after Radiant Art Stronghold and Demon Wings?"

"She must have appeared to inspect a newly risen unorthodox sect, and we got caught in the middle of it..."

"This won't do. It's over. We need to find an opening and get at least some of us out."

Yulha Jin-in, the Starflower Sword God, was considered an overwhelmingly dangerous figure among Shaanxi's unorthodox sects. To them, her facial-feature portrait, beautiful as a painting, was like a portrait of the King of Hell.

She was the absolute ruler of Shaanxi, a land encompassing even Xi’an. In the surrounding martial world, no one besides the Tyrant Sword Sect Master could cross blades with her.

They could not oppose her.

The battle lines surrounding the Leader of Demon Wings and the First Demon of Shaanxi collapsed without resistance.

"Squad Leader! Squad Leader!"

"It's done now! The mission is complete! Squad Leader won!"

The Demon Wings experts tried to push toward their Squad Leader. Even then, Jeong Yeon-shin and Wi Geuk-sang continued glaring at one another.

Their upper bodies were stained red, and neither could easily control his body as they stood unsteadily with their swords lowered.

Jeong Yeon-shin's exhalations broke off intermittently.

The hem of his Black Uniform cloak, draped over the bright-red bandages around his upper body, trembled with the movement of his chest.

"..."

A single trajectory decided life and death.

The concentration of supreme masters immersed in swordplay was frightening. They seemed not even to notice the Mount Hua Sect leader's presence.

Then.

Cough!

Wi Geuk-sang coughed up blood. Black blood flowed violently down his chin. The Demon Wings experts flinched.

It was not an ordinary sight. Blood normally took time to turn black.

Even after being struck by an internal heavy-hand technique, one did not immediately vomit dead blood. It had to be the aftermath of clashing qi.

The First Demon of Shaanxi laboriously twisted his mouth.

"You possess talent on two fronts, martial arts and combat... Heaven made a mistake."

Jeong Yeon-shin had fully infused dharma power into that instantaneous sword strike. It meant he had not focused solely on the sword path. Jeong Yeon-shin possessed the talent to turn a single effective strike into a fatal wound.

Wi Geuk-sang thought that perhaps the man destined to bring about his end from the moment he learned demonic arts had been the current Leader of Demon Wings.

He chuckled weakly.

"The dignity of a martial artist who dies in defeat depends on the opponent who defeats him. With your status, your age, and your martial prowess, you are more noble than the elven race. The whole world must seem laughable to you. I sincerely hope you do not die young in the martial world."

"...There is something right in your last words. Yes, Heaven made a mistake."

The Leader of Demon Wings answered slowly.

At the same time, Wi Geuk-sang's smile deepened.

"I see something of the Demonic Sect's style in you."

He said, "Arrogant young master of Desolate Fortress. Your temperament suits the path of domination."

Jeong Yeon-shin did not reply.

Without a word, he slashed diagonally upward with his right hand holding the Northern Light Sword.

Slaaash!

The First Demon of Shaanxi did not close his eyes until the Leader of Demon Wings' sword filled his pupils with white.

He stared straight at the unhesitating trajectory. In an instant, white sword light swept beneath Wi Geuk-sang's jaw.

'At last.'

Jeong Yeon-shin clearly felt it through his outstretched grip. He had severed the neck completely. The sensation of ruthlessly tearing through the remaining Protective Qi Technique reached him vividly.

Thud.

The man's head dropped among the blades of grass.

Silence lingered for a moment. Yeoryeong's martial artists still could not move.

Saaah.

The dry winter wind swept once through the shattered thickets.

As cold air settled over the ruins left by the supreme masters' force waves, the body of the demonic path's supreme master fell heavily onto the frozen ground.

Thump.

That was the turning point.

Only then could the Demon Wings experts attend to Jeong Yeon-shin. The backlash from his Body Movement Scripture pushed the dust away in every direction.

"We never should have started this!"

"How many fingers do you see? From now on, I'll watch my mouth carefully."

"Can you move? Please, get on my back."

Callused hands repeatedly hesitated as they reached toward their Squad Leader.

His wounds were so severe that his abdominal muscles showed through them. The skin visible between the plain bandages was bright red. No one dared touch him carelessly.

"Squad Leader, I'm sorry. I truly... did something deeply shameful."

Even Wi Ye-ryeong, the Moon-Shooting Bow Ghost and the elven race's master archer, who had always seemed calm, clasped both hands and offered an apologetic bow.

"Stop fussing."

Jeong Yeon-shin gave a faint shake of his head and waved them away with a small gesture.

He had to go to Hye-ah. Apart from ordering his companions to search, he wanted to see her himself. Baek Mir-yeo, who had tortured the Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword, had said Hye-ah was here. She had to be imprisoned somewhere.

He took a slow step.

"Yeon-shin! Yeon-shin!"

A familiar voice suddenly rang out from afar. It was Yu Hyeon of the Mount Hua Sect, his friend who seemed to get beaten by someone every time they met.

'Mount Hua was one of Shaanxi's great sects too. Radiant Art Stronghold has made quite a name for itself, so perhaps he followed after checking the inn.'

A hint of joy entered his weary eyes.

"May this Daoist finally offer greetings? I have watched for quite some time."

A clear, ringing voice came from right beside him. It was an astonishing Body Movement Scripture.

When he turned his head, the first thing to enter his view was a white, prominent bridge of a nose. She was so close that he could feel the absolute aura contained in her body against his ear.

"Your sword is truly frightening."

She spoke in an even tone while slowly meeting the Leader of Demon Wings' gaze.

"Hidden Fragrance Drift, Yulha Nangnang."

"Mount Hua's Sword God should keep her distance...!"

Cheong Myeong and Baek Mir-yeo muttered as they hurried over, their faces tense. Even Desolate Fortress's martial force would have difficulty responding immediately to the approach of an unparalleled master.

The current Mount Hua Sect leader was an absolute being, a Han Chinese who had reached the same level as the elven race. They said she had cultivated the Purple Haze Divine Technique to its utmost limit long ago and did not age.

Only then did Jeong Yeon-shin properly register Yulha Nangnang.

"Thank you... for your help."

His words broke because of his unsteady breathing.

Yulha Nangnang smiled ambiguously. Many qualities could be glimpsed in the curve of her lips. Her smile carried the pleasant air of the mountains, yet also the steepness of Western Peak Mount Hua.

"This Daoist did nothing. Curiosity simply arose."

"Please speak."

"The Sword Demon of the Heart Martial Union was watching you. Before this Daoist drove them away, the direction of their gaze was very clear. A deeply sorrowful feeling flowed into this Daoist's upper dantian..."

She asked with a smile, "What is your relationship?"

"I do not know."

"Truly?"

"Yes. Also... I do not think the Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress has anything to report to the Mount Hua Sect leader."

"..."

The heavy silence that rose in that instant belonged to those around them.

A Nine Sects sect leader stood on comparable footing with a Purple Uniform of Desolate Fortress, a personage able to hold forth on the affairs of the world. She was an absolute figure of the martial world.

Had he not been covered in wounds, suffering under the painkiller's aftereffects, and worried about his niece, Jeong Yeon-shin would have spoken more politely.

Yet Mount Hua's greatest master showed no anger.

She only smiled.

"One cannot easily overlook the Demonic Sect's ilk. One cannot know what schemes they may use against you in the future, so this Daoist wishes to determine beforehand whether there is any corruption upon you. Whether you have been stained, that is. From the orthodox martial world's perspective, it is not easy to trust you unconditionally either. Desolate Fortress may tend to the people's livelihood, but in the martial world, it is a faction between orthodox and unorthodox."

"I am in a hurry."

"Please understand Mount Hua's position."

She spoke while lightly waving her hand. Her somewhat playful gesture carried a faint tinge of sunset. The prelude to an attack plunged the surroundings into silence. No one here could stop her.

Then.

Sharp intakes of breath rose everywhere.

The Leader of Demon Wings suddenly seized her hand.

"You spoke of stains."

He stirred qi within the Laogong acupoint of his palm. Though the flow of his inner energy was clear, Yulha Nangnang only watched him silently.

Her attitude said it would not matter even if she received an attack from this close.

Yet Jeong Yeon-shin only infused his grip with the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel.

Hummm.

"This junior must find his kin."

It was inner energy imbued with dharma power. Energy that would not fall short of the power of the Three Pure Ones, said to be the most auspicious Daoist power under Heaven, touched the Mount Hua Sect leader's hand.

At the same time, white aura warped in every direction like visible wind.

"I hope this washes you clean."

Jeong Yeon-shin abruptly released her hand, then trudged past her.

Footnotes:

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