WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 257: Ascent (7)
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Three Flowers Gather at the Crown was said to be a state in which one's command of inner energy had reached its absolute peak.
That was the meaning of essence, qi, and spirit becoming one. Inner energy could keep pace with the speed of one's thoughts. It was a realm that troubled Jeong Yeon-shin, who had to live in a world of superhuman masters.
'Strange how slow people become so fast.'
There was a limit to calculating the swift attacks of supreme masters in advance. He had learned that painfully when he nearly died at the hands of Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword and the First Demon of Shaanxi.
Without variables such as Baek Seo-gun's sword control or opposing qi, he would likely lose. The martial arts they had accumulated were simply that profound.
Keeping Radiant River active throughout battle was the first answer Jeong Yeon-shin had found.
It was a method of producing lightning by colliding opposing qi through the principles of a sorcery formation. Clear Qilin had given it its name.
The first stage was maintaining it continuously. If he kept detonation-type palm force around him at all times, he would not need to worry about the casting speed of a finishing blow. His ability to respond in battle would rise terrifyingly.
So he trained.
He altered the properties of the Shaofu acupoint, Laogong acupoint, and Zhongzhu acupoint in his palms. Using the Jeong Family Youth Technique, he increased the flexibility of his acupoints and minor meridians. Repetition held tremendous power.
What had seemed doubtful became possible after a month of effort.
The only drawback was that the longer a battle lasted, the greater the burden on his body. For Jeong Yeon-shin, who pursued swift, decisive battles, it was an acceptable price.
He could also greatly reduce the conspicuous aura waves. It would be useful for ambushes.
'How foolish. There was a reason everyone did things the same way.'
There was no falsehood in the Four Books and Five Classics that the Desolate Fortress Divine Hero spoke of so often. Jeong Yeon-shin reflected on himself anew.
People truly had to remain humble, just as he had always tried to be.
“……”
The aftermath of a single move brought silence.
Silence spread in every direction. The scattered mounds of snow gleamed an especially brilliant white.
The cold winter wind silently brushed over the grass and swept onward, reaching beyond the hill where the fighting had taken place in an instant.
Jang Sun-il, standing awkwardly behind Jeong Yeon-shin, drew a needless breath.
The young man who had thrown the spear looked as though he doubted his own eyes.
Stunned dismay showed in the way he let his right hand fall. Not a trace of his fighting spirit remained.
He opened his mouth with difficulty.
“The encirclement on this side... is the strongest.”
“What?”
“You shouldn't come this way.”
He answered toward the rear as though speaking to himself. Even as he spoke in a groan-like voice, he could not meet Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
Now that the nearby mountain range had become a vast battlefield, the Leader of Demon Wings from Desolate Fortress was a terrifying variable. Anyone on Mount Taebaek would see it that way. To those who did not know Jeong Yeon-shin's identity, he would seem like a disaster.
The young spearman felt something incomprehensible in the black-robed boy standing with both hands behind his back.
He simply could not understand that single palm strike. His voice trembled without his realizing it.
“You can't, you can't come this way...!”
“What are you talking about?! Time is of the essence! At this rate, we'll all be wiped out!”
An angry voice drew near in an instant. It seemed to belong to an elder of a spear-wielding sect.
At the same time, a woman's laughter rang out.
Words such as “Insignificant things” and “Such pathetic creatures dare speak” drifted through the clear wind with a bewitching lilt.
Even the thick scent of blood rode the aura waves.
'The unorthodox sects are fighting each other.'
Jeong Yeon-shin turned quietly, his entire presence settled into a sharp calm.
Jang Sun-il, whose mouth had been slightly open, flinched.
“Let's go.”
“Ah, y-yes! Your hand is all right, isn't it?”
“It's only a little cool.”
His traveling companion was a mountain boy. Since they were the same age and Jang Sun-il was not a martial artist, Jeong Yeon-shin's tone was lighter.
Speaking to him as he did to Yu Hyeon felt more comfortable than coldly addressing martial-world people.
“I said let's go. It'll become troublesome if we stay here.”
“What? Uh, ah?”
He grabbed Jang Sun-il by the waist and slung him over his shoulder like baggage.
It was possible because his shoulders had broadened somewhat along with the growth of his limbs.
He felt proud again. Proud enough to view the comrades who had teased him about the spacing of his chopstick use with brief generosity.
He glanced back at the young man with the spear.
“You.”
“Mm...”
The now-unarmed spearman flinched. Even amid the chaos, he had unleashed a killing move against someone he had just met. It said plenty about how he had lived.
He would have nothing to say even if he received the retaliation he deserved. Perhaps he would meet his end at the hands of the Seventh Apostle, who was flamboyantly detonating the aura waves of Mara Roaring Blood Art in the distance.
Jeong Yeon-shin moved his lips toward him.
“If you come this way, you'll die.”
“...!”
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately turned away and stepped forward.
'Movement technique, Wind Body.'
Whoooosh!
A wave of wind exploded from the Yongquan acupoints on the soles of his feet. The moment he kicked off the ground, the noise behind him blended together and receded.
Only then did they seem to notice the disturbance here. Sinister aura waves surged belatedly.
* * *
Bright noon sunlight.
Mount Taebaek was so called because it wore white year-round.
Every peak in the nearby Qinling Range was covered in perpetual snow, and it was so mystical that poets and scholars such as Du Fu and Li Bai had come to leave verses behind. The range of peaks beside Seven Maidens Peak was no exception.
Thud.
A palanquin sat upon the white summit.
Inside sat a handsome man dressed like a refined scholar, his eyes narrowed. At his side, a quiet-looking swordswoman gazed down at him.
“Was there a need to go to such lengths?”
She asked.
“He is someone who must be killed. There is no more dangerous budding threat in the present martial world.”
The man replied with the corners of his red lips raised. He rolled a long box beneath his fingers as the clean scent of medicinal herbs faintly spread.
“Mm.”
“His rate of growth makes no sense. Everyone who handles information must be thinking the same thing. The world is vast, so the importance and accuracy of rumors naturally vary greatly.”
There was something strange about the man's manner of speech. It carried a melody, as though he were singing. The elegance ingrained in his voice was unusual.
The swordswoman glanced at the wooden box he held.
'A thousand-year-old he shou wu...'
She spoke again.
“Even if Seom-ye's martial prowess is outstanding... has it not only been about a year since he began to stand out? Would it not be better to concern ourselves with the Young Sect Master of the Ming Cult? I heard that many of the spies in Xinjiang were discovered and killed.”
The man smiled languidly.
“You must not have seen the urgent report those spies sent before their deaths. They say Desolate Fortress's Swift Heaven Wing Squad was annihilated. Ha Do-un, the Swift Heaven Wing Squad Leader, died a particularly miserable death. Whatever methods were used, how could one call someone who achieved such a feat a mere budding threat?”
“The Swift Heaven Wing Squad...! How could the toothless Ming Cult possibly do that?”
“They are said to be well-versed in sorcery arts, so perhaps they raised their realm early. I heard their system of sorcery martial arts is most unusual. In any case, this is Shaanxi, so let us return to the main matter. Seom-ye.”
The man tucked the box he had been holding into his robes and continued.
“He was already under the Blood Flame Sect's watch. Looking deeper, they say he possesses martial arts based on dharma power. Since the Desolate Fortress martial artists have never displayed anything similar, it appears to be a unique martial art. His martial talent is truly astonishing. From Sichuan, to the Martial Alliance Assembly, and now here in Shaanxi. I have read through that man's records countless times...”
“It was wise to contact the Tyrant Sword Sect. But was there a need to inform the Blood Flame Sect as well? I hear its branches have splintered badly since the Blood Flame Sect Master stopped appearing, and the blood demons are now beyond control.”
“I hear the Second Apostle is the one who rebelled. The First Apostle is personally leading the cleanup. Even if the sect is in disorder, crushing a single promising Black Uniform should pose no problem.”
The Young Lord of Yeoryeong spoke as though talking to himself, lightly scraping the armrest with a fingertip. His movements were as delicate as his instincts and schemes.
He parted his lips again.
“The rumor that the Tyrant Sword Sect Master is coming is not entirely false, either. They say he is greatly enraged. Well, how could he not be? He lost his wet nurse to a junior far beneath him.”
“It was well done to leave Seom-ye's niece in that condition. It seems First Demon Wi Geuk-sang properly carried out his orders. But will the Leader of Demon Wings from Desolate Fortress truly come all this way just because you spread rumors of he shou wu? The moment he steps onto Mount Taebaek, he will be half-dead already...”
“Did we not deliberately leave one root behind? The Leader of Demon Wings will definitely come.”
The Young Lord continued.
“I have tracked his movements so much that he feels almost like a friend, but he does not seem to be the sort who would turn away from blood kin. What we must worry about is only that incomprehensible ‘Ascension’ unique to supernatural phenomena.”
“The Mount Taebaek you created, Young Lord, is hell in this world. There is no need to worry.”
The swordswoman spoke at an unhurried pace. Her words carried the discerning eye of a seasoned martial artist.
* * *
Night descended.
The darkness encountered in the mountains was especially deep.
As if it had always been that way, the quiet mountain wilderness embraced even the occasional ringing of steel, dyeing the eyes of the two boys black.
Perhaps because the mnemonic formula Jeong Yeon-shin recited every night was that of the Jeong Family Youth Technique, the unbroken silence felt like a mother's embrace.
Crackle. Pop.
Samadhi True Fire rose from his hand and lit the campfire.
Jang Sun-il made no effort to stop him. He had just learned of his companion's martial prowess.
Jeong Yeon-shin was clearly one of the few true powerhouses even amid the chaos on Mount Taebaek. To all but the most extraordinary martial artists, he would seem like the grim reaper.
“……”
They sat facing each other across the fire.
After keeping his head lowered for some time, Jang Sun-il raised it.
“May I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why are you trying to obtain the thousand-year-old he shou wu? They say that if you eat it and circulate your qi properly, you can gain tremendous power, but you're already strong enough. I've never even heard of skills like yours. They were truly terrifying.”
“My niece is sick.”
“Ah...”
The quick-witted mountain boy's mouth fell slightly open. He looked as though he had heard something unexpected.
“What about you? Why are you trying to eat dirt?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly.
“My family was wiped out by unorthodox sect bastards. When I came home, there were only corpses.”
“……”
Jang Sun-il spoke calmly.
“It's common these days, isn't it? They come to collect tribute even though they aren't government soldiers, then draw blades on innocent people because there is no food. We took the brunt of their anger over the famine. I'm going to find them and take revenge. If it is soil where thousand-year-old he shou wu once grew, it should hold quite a lot of energy for me.”
He spoke as though telling someone else's story.
The Leader of Demon Wings quietly took in Jang Sun-il's face.
“Do you know which sect they belonged to?”
“I don't. Whether they were bastards wandering and begging like vagrants, or bastards from a prestigious family who had properly learned the sword. They're enemies I can never share the sky with, so I'll meet them if I keep living. I have to.”
The boy murmured.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly thought of the Blood Flame Sect and Tyrant Sword Sect.
'They said the Blood Flame Sect has become rampant.'
He did not wonder why the Seventh Apostle was here.
After receiving her help, he no longer knew how he should treat her. That was all that troubled him. They said the debts and grudges of the martial world swirled as murkily as the rapids of the Yangtze River.
He understood now, after becoming deeply entangled with someone to whom he owed gratitude while also bearing a grudge.
'...Without her, I would have died in the City of Master Craftsmen. Together with everyone else.'
His uncle, the Returning Wings Squad, and Demon Wings all owed their lives to an evil person. What should he do?
That was when it happened.
“You use fire.”
“You must be quite confident.”
A man and a woman spoke from the darkness beyond the campfire.
Step.
Unhesitating footsteps followed.
The outlines of two people walking together came into view. It was as though they pushed aside the campfire's gentle glow and stepped into view.
Their pure white martial robes stood out against the night air. The color was profoundly mysterious.
Their faces soon came into view.
They were twins. A brother and sister who looked exactly alike.
Their long blue-white hair clearly held inner energy, and the distinct lines of their faces carried an authoritative dignity.
Their somewhat foreign features were extraordinarily striking.
“Oh.”
An exclamation escaped the woman's lips the moment she met Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
“To think I would feast my eyes on such a sight here. He is like the reincarnation of Pan Yue of Jin. Not that my younger brother would know.”
“I studied too, so I know. Do not act as if you alone understand this land's history and affairs. In any case, would it not be better to seek a carriage for the fruit people would throw at that face than spiritual herbs? With that face, anyone would throw food at you.”
The male twin invoked the tale of Pan Yue.
His tone was plain. It was impossible to tell whether he was mocking Jeong Yeon-shin or being sincere.
“Are you good with a sword?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked.
The blue-white-haired man answered blandly.
“Hand Arts are my true specialty. More importantly, may we share the campfire? Our inner energy cannot kindle one, and we lost our attendants... We have no intention of forcing you.”
“We are unlike the martial-world people here. We value manners and reason over the strong devouring the weak. If you refuse, we will leave.”
The woman said this with a faint lift of her lips.
Jeong Yeon-shin blinked for a moment. He had not expected such words on a battlefield.
“My elder sister is Bukgung Rin, and I am Bukgung Hu. We come from the place you call an ice palace. Shall we at least exchange names?”
Bukgung Hu asked while standing still.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently studied their faces.
They said they would leave if refused, yet they did not seem to expect refusal. Their confidence showed in their bearing alone.
The temperament of rulers. It was an atmosphere he had felt at the Blood Flame Sect's main headquarters. They did not even seem to consider rubbing dry branches together to make a fire.
“You are disturbing my thoughts. If you do not leave, prepare to be beaten.”
Jeong Yeon-shin calmly voiced his true feelings. Indifference seeped from his tone.
The Desolate Fortress Divine Hero was not here to dress up a Squad Leader's words.
This land was crawling with martial artists, yet the Leader of Demon Wings sat carelessly alone, proud and aloof.
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