WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 268: Master of the Martial Book (5)
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“Hngh...”
The Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s direct disciple could not move. All he could do was groan.
His arm remained extended like a support beneath the Leader of Demon Wings’ foot. Despite Jeong Yeon-shin’s unprecedented weakness, he could not shake him off, even though Gi Do-hyu’s eye technique had thoroughly assessed the Leader of Demon Wings’ condition.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s aura was clearly faint and unstable.
His internal injuries bordered on qi deviation, while external wounds had left his upper body drenched in blood. He had just faced several powerful masters in succession.
How could he easily deal with Gi Do-hyu, who had climbed the mountain as though taking a stroll with his master? The Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s direct disciple was a master capable of effortlessly using a grass-skimming lightness skill.
The blades of grass beneath Gi Do-hyu’s feet still stood upright. It was strange.
“Stay still.”
Jeong Yeon-shin said, standing with his feet together.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress’s second lesson. The feint she had taught him scattered an opponent’s aura sense.
Jeong Yeon-shin matched his own aura to the fluctuations of Gi Do-hyu’s power.
He thought of the opera troupe that had once visited his hometown of Xinye County. Facing the Tyrant Sword Sect Master had suddenly brought it to mind.
When he had trailed after the village children who avoided him, he had once watched puppets bound to countless strings moving in the distance.
It had been a puppet opera. He had watched in a daze.
‘The essence was within me, too.’
A martial artist’s martial arts were connected to their life.
With the image of his childhood in mind, Jeong Yeon-shin toyed with the aura Gi Do-hyu gave off.
He manipulated the weakened fluctuations of the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel as delicately as a skein of thread, robbing Gi Do-hyu of his perception of inner energy.
A master’s aura sense was linked to the five senses. The deeper one’s cultivation method, the faster one could react to an attack from behind.
If aura sense was disrupted, even the senses would fall into confusion. That was the essence of the Heart Sword feint.
“Heart Sword...?”
The ease in Gi Do-hyu’s expression turned to despair. There were two reasons he could not respond properly.
The instinct that another joint might move the instant he tried to withdraw his arm, and the realization that the Leader of Demon Wings’ weakened Leg Arts could crush his head.
A Squad Leader under the Divine Sword Corps would possess all manner of countermeasures.
Jeong Yeon-shin suppressed the danger with the bearing expected of a Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress. It was the posture of a powerful master.
As he casually scattered Gi Do-hyu’s aura sense, he watched the battle between the Mount Hua Sect Leader and the Tyrant Sword Sect Master.
The paths of their swords tangled around them in hundreds of strands.
To the eye, they resembled a storm of tangled thread. Terrifying killing intent surged in the life-and-death duel to determine Shaanxi’s greatest.
Crack!
Sunlight warped along the sword trajectories of the two peerless masters.
The explosive force of their swift sword strikes followed far behind.
Even a single sword strike unleashed shockwaves stronger than Radiant River, and even with the Heaven-Displaying Eye Technique activated, Jeong Yeon-shin struggled to follow their movements.
He could barely keep up only because Yulha Nangnang’s movements carried a familiar quality. The essential principles of the Comprehensive Guide to Annihilating Evil Demons showed through her sword paths, which resembled swaying flower branches.
‘She’s pressing him.’
Peerless masters lived in a different time. Hundreds of exchanges passed in an instant.
The difference was minute, but Yulha Nangnang’s sword appeared to reach its peak a little sooner.
Had he helped at least a little? It seemed the sword intent recorded in the Comprehensive Guide to Annihilating Evil Demons had overlaid the Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s sword strikes as Yulha Nangnang drove him back.
Even within a single sect, dozens of martial arts could branch out. It was truly fortunate.
“You... do not know the Sect Master...”
Gi Do-hyu’s voice sounded from beneath his feet. Jeong Yeon-shin did not lower his gaze.
“Seom-ye. A peerless genius like you can never understand...”
That was when it happened.
The Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s sword stance abruptly changed. Dozens of colorless, blazing greatswords rose, then swiftly merged into the blade of his sword.
It was as though a single sword from an entirely different realm had been completed.
Whoooosh!
Enormous pressure weighed down on Jeong Yeon-shin’s skin.
At that instant, Gi Do-hyu’s body moved as well. His other hand shot forward as though he were determined to kill him.
By then, Jeong Yeon-shin had already concentrated the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel into his right foot.
Enduring the brief pain of having his acupoints sliced by a blade, he erupted with power through the Yongquan acupoint in his sole.
Crunch!
Something incredibly hard met the tip of his foot.
Then came the sensation of it being crushed beneath his foot.
The moment Jeong Yeon-shin landed after bursting Gi Do-hyu’s head, he saw Yulha Nangnang falling backward.
Blood gushed from her. Her abdomen looked as though it had been split diagonally. A fierce gleam flashed in the Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s eyes as he thrust out his greatsword.
Kwooooooong!
A terrifying presence writhed around him. It was the power of an absolute master.
Over Yulha Nangnang’s shoulder, it loomed over the space, encroaching upon it alongside the gaze he directed at Jeong Yeon-shin.
The undisputed strongest in Shaanxi.
Their eyes met.
The Tyrant Sword Sect Master’s black eyes did not waver even after losing his disciple. It was composure bordering on madness.
“I heard you create unique martial arts with ease.”
His voice carried a heavy resonance.
“I cannot. I am struggling to create one. Three Forms of Breaking the Desolation. What you just saw was its first form.”
“...”
“I did not kill her. Starflower is the only one in Shaanxi who can temper me.”
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He focused on holding Yulha Nangnang in his arms and striking the acupoints around her abdomen to stop the bleeding.
Even so, he kept the Tyrant Sword Sect Master in view. Blue lightning crackled in the Leader of Demon Wings’ eyes.
The Tyrant Sword Sect Master gazed down at him for a moment before speaking.
“Brat, with whom I have exchanged much.”
Step.
The Tyrant Sword Sect Master turned away.
“I will wait for the day you become a Divine Sword.”
* * *
Many people had survived the place where the Young Lord of Yeoryeong had died. Masters of Shaanxi’s Thirteen Heavens, Beast King Sect disciples, and martial artists from orthodox sects who had been on the outskirts at the time...
Not many spoke of the fact that there had been two roots of thousand-year-old he shou wu.
Most did not follow the Leader of Demon Wings. They climbed Seven Maidens Peak or descended the mountain instead.
Those present were tight-lipped about their own gains. Only the sight displayed by the Leader of Demon Wings remained a shock, spreading from mouth to mouth all the way down the mountain slopes.
“The Young Lord of Yeoryeong had lost the thousand-year-old he shou wu!”
Winged spiritual beasts and several carrier pigeons took flight. Their wings brushed bare branches as they headed down the broad slope.
The moment the Blood Flame Sect’s Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation vanished, the mountain foothills, spread out like a horizon, filled with people.
Rumors of Desolate Fortress’s Leader of Demon Wings spread.
It was inevitable.
Those who had been unable to enter because of the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation climbed the mountain.
Wanderers, masters from renowned families, and merchants accompanied by guards raced with lightness skill, leaving countless footprints in the snow.
The sound of trampled undergrowth was loud. They stepped over corpses with clear bite marks on their necks and ignored piles of blood demon corpses whose cause of death was difficult to discern.
Those who had already wandered Mount Taebaek. Those who had newly entered.
Many found the same person, while the rest continued searching for them.
The huge movements of herb gatherers trained in martial arts converged on a point along the mountain ridge. A Heavenly Net naturally formed.
At its center.
“Sect Leader, you must not lose consciousness.”
A low voice emerged with white breath.
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin passed trees draped in snow while carrying Yulha Nangnang on his back.
The hems of his clothes swept across the snow. The sensation was unusually vivid.
His steps were heavy. His aura sense no longer reached as far as before.
From Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword and the First Demon of Shaanxi to the combined attack of the Thirteen Heavens and powerful masters on Mount Taebaek, the accumulated internal and external injuries seemed to wear down even the body forged through the Jeong Family Youth Technique.
Even the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel would not move as he wished. It merely circulated through the acupoints across his body like a faint haze.
The irritating people around him were a problem as well.
“The blood demons were wiped out. They say a woman covered in blood staggered away.”
“Some suspect infighting. Apparently, those who watched from afar with eye techniques said so.”
“That must be the Starflower Sword God! This is a perfect opportunity...!”
“The Young Lord of Yeoryeong and a protector died, the Rogue King was found dead, and those Beast King Sect bastards lost their Sect Leader...”
“It makes sense that their strength has waned. No, isn’t it a miracle that they’re still standing? How did they defeat them? It’s astounding.”
“Look at the way he walks. Does he look strong to you?”
A massive encirclement descended the mountain alongside Jeong Yeon-shin. Some whispered, while others did not bother lowering their voices.
Once the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation had lifted, the mountain ridge lay completely open.
At first, they gathered one by one in hiding. By the time whistling arrows and the beating wings of spiritual beasts grew loud, several hundred people surrounded Jeong Yeon-shin.
The exhausted Leader of Demon Wings was tempting prey to some ignorant fools.
He carried thousand-year-old he shou wu and even had the Mount Hua Sect Leader slung over his back. To them, Jeong Yeon-shin was nearly a spiritual beast that could grant both a spiritual herb and fame.
Those well versed in the ways of the world did not behave much differently.
This was a world where many martial artists bore grudges against the imperial court’s Divine Sword. When else would they find the head of a Black Uniform Squad Leader? They could afford to put Desolate Fortress’s retaliation out of their minds.
They were a pack of hyenas.
All kinds of weapons rattled.
Their footsteps in the snow varied as well. Careless presences, stealthy ones, those fidgeting to rush out, and auras honed like refined blades formed an enormous circle as they descended.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood imprisoned at its center.
He silently continued onward, occasionally adjusting Yulha Nangnang on his back.
Whooo...
A winter wind suddenly swept back the hair at his nape. His breath flowed past his jaw and behind him.
At the same time, faint breathing touched the back of his neck. It carried the sweet scent unique to someone with severe internal injuries.
“Leader of Demon Wings...”
It was Yulha Nangnang on his back. Jeong Yeon-shin calmly parted his lips.
“Sect Leader.”
“Leave me behind.”
“Demonic Sect members are everywhere. Many of them are not in their right minds, and they will surely harm you. It would be the same even if I left the he shou wu here.”
“Your nature and talent... are too precious. You must not die in a place like this. Can’t you at least save yourself?”
Her broken voice carried stubbornness.
The way her words and actions made others give up reminded Jeong Yeon-shin of his maternal grandfather. Peerless masters seemed to have strong opinions.
The Leader of Demon Wings had once vowed that he would not become like his grandfather.
“I’ll handle it.”
“...”
Jeong Yeon-shin exhaled and heightened every sense in his body. Beneath the brown pine needles that suddenly brushed his face, he sensed an unseen distortion in the air.
It was aura hidden within the current of air. The killing intent surrounding him gradually grew thicker.
“If I move first, I’ll die, right?”
“He may look like that, but he is the Leader of Demon Wings. Someone like you would be killed in a single move.”
“Should we test it? After waiting a little longer.”
“If you do it, block the route down the mountain first. Those who call themselves righteous orthodox sects know no shame. They love to claim a share of the achievements of an imperial killing sword who has done something impressive.”
“You mean we should strike before his accomplishments become widely known? Yes... that makes sense in its own way. How many masters of the Demonic Sect has he killed...?”
It was a conversation between young masters dressed in smooth martial robes layered with fur garments.
The voices came from above. Men in ghost masks stood on branches like immortals as they followed Jeong Yeon-shin, addressing one another as Golden Hero and Golden Fist.
It looked as though leaders of a major merchant group were using aliases.
Even the clothing of the dozen or so guards following them radiated nobility.
“All kinds have gathered. Fools and masters alike.”
“There must be around two hundred fifty now. It’s getting harder to count.”
“I’m getting impatient. That’s my achievement, after all. If I take something like thousand-year-old he shou wu, I could defeat my sister in the succession contest.”
“It looks as though every lawless bastard in Shaanxi has gathered around one boy.”
“Golden Fist, do you really see that as a boy?”
“Hm?”
“You’re careless. He is a Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress. You cannot think of him as a person.”
“Ah, now that you mention it, that’s hard to deny.”
“We move last. Let us profit while the others fight. Those ignorant rabble will wear the Leader of Demon Wings down for us.”
Golden Hero’s smooth jaw stopped moving as he spoke of profiting while others fought.
Slash!
One of Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulders snapped backward as he descended the slope.
Blood spurted out like a blade. He gritted his teeth against the fresh surge of pain.
“...!”
The martial artists forming the Heavenly Net fell silent at once.
A knowing silence swept through the surroundings like a whirlpool. The Leader of Demon Wings truly was badly injured.
A swordsman holding their sword aloft ahead of Jeong Yeon-shin raised the corner of their mouth.
They wore an expression of disbelief.
“Did you see that...? The great Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress, struck by this one’s sword wind, hngh...!”
At that instant, the snowball Jeong Yeon-shin kicked shattered the swordsman’s eye.
It burst with a muffled thud, containing only a trace of the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel. It did not seem to leave much of an impression on anyone.
Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes.
‘They saw my counterattack clearly. Letting that strike through is a problem as well.’
The fervor filling the Heavenly Net grew thicker and thicker. It remained so even after the swordsman’s corpse fell backward.
The hyenas had completely noticed the tiger’s condition. More groups of martial artists approached from below.
“It’s true! They’re there!”
“The he shou wu! The thousand-year-old he shou wu must be on his person!”
“Isn’t that woman wearing a Mount Hua Sect robe? Her identity...?”
“We came here to deal with the Leader of Demon Wings. Who cares about the identity of some horse-nosed Daoist? If we take both their heads, we may be able to join the Thirteen Heavens!”
The encirclement continued to expand without end. The thickening wall of martial artists gave off fierce aura.
The fighting spirit and killing intent sweeping forth with their fluctuations of power were strong enough to tear through the Leader of Demon Wings’ robes like a real wind.
“Golden Hero, when do we attack?”
“Wait a little longer. It will explode soon.”
The conversations from all around carried ease and excitement.
Those building up their momentum from above, below, and all directions had begun watching one another more carefully than the Leader of Demon Wings.
This was the raw martial world.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently walked while carrying the Mount Hua Sect Leader.
She spoke.
“This humble Daoist said she would get down...”
“You are not the Lord of Desolate Fortress.”
He gave a short answer as he prepared for the attack that would come sooner or later. With his head slightly lowered, he sharpened his close-range aura sense.
Step, step.
He could not cast aside someone with whom he had exchanged goodwill. It had nothing to do with Yulha Nangnang’s status.
At the place where his mother had settled, he had learned the value of kindness. It was only right to protect it.
That was the chivalry of the Leader of Demon Wings. At that moment, it deepened alongside the white footprints he left behind.
After he took roughly seventeen more steps,
‘Hm?’
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly raised his head. The surroundings had gone quiet.
A silence colder than the winter wind lingered around him. The noisy crowd had all fallen silent and stiffened.
Only the sound of pine needles rolling across the snow was suddenly clear.
He looked around and finally understood why.
“...”
Twenty people had surrounded the more than three hundred people forming the Heavenly Net.
A black-haired beauty stood upright with a sword planted at her feet. A young master narrowed his brow while chewing a bright red opium poppy. A youth in a hero’s headband swept an angry gaze over the crowd. An elven woman stood upside down on a branch with a bow in hand.
Each had taken a different stance.
Their robes fluttered in the wind as though they had been dipped in the sky.
Every long robe was dazzlingly blue, while the character for “Desolation” emblazoned on their shoulders stood out in silence.
The youth in the hero’s headband spoke.
“There is not much to say. You should all leave at once.”
“No.”
The voice came from far above.
It came from the branch above the heads of the young masters in ghost masks. A one-eyed elven youth in a hood shook his head while stroking the hilt of his sword.
His face had a fresh, gentle quality, but his expression was blank.
“Kill them all.”
Crunch!
A black sword blade buried itself in the abdomen of a stiffened wanderer directly below.
It was Baek Mir-yeo’s sword, her unusually dark hair hanging loose. Black demonic qi had taken shape around it.
“Squad Leader, let’s go back now.”
White veins stood out on the back of the hand gripping her sword hilt. She had only spoken briefly.
Then she suddenly twisted her waist and cleaved upward through the wanderer’s upper body. Ribs cracked apart at once as a great spray of blood erupted.
It was a move that froze time.
Footnotes:
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