WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu
Editor: Imagine

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time

Chapter 27 - Zhongnan Sect (2)

The astonishment from the incredible Swift Sword was fleeting as the Zhongnan Sect disciples gritted their teeth and placed their hands on their swords.

“Stop!”

The forest trembled at the celestial voice. An immense presence was felt.

Swish.

With an overwhelming presence, she descended gracefully like a heavenly fairy.

This was the realm of the Soaring Grace Jeong Divine Sword.

Yeon-shin stared at the woman standing in the center, the mediator.

‘She’s strong.’

Her rare beauty did not catch his eye. Her frail body belied the formidable aura she exuded.

Just by standing there, her extraordinary skill was evident.

“It’s quite a spectacle. Your behavior hardly befits disciples of Zhongnan Sect. Let’s go back and talk.”

Those in charge of security bowed their heads at her soft words.

It was as if a superior was reprimanding them.

Only then did they realize their disgrace and blush.

“We apologize, Great Elder.”

“We are ashamed to face you.”

The woman, who nodded at their apology, turned to Yeon-shin and Won-chang.

“Indeed.”

Her lips moved slightly.

The grass blades brushed by the hem of her fluttering robe split in half.

Her entire body's qi was so sharp that it was comparable to the elite of Desolate Fortress.

“We are ashamed in front of the distinguished guests from Desolate Fortress.”

“……”

Won-chang seemed utterly overwhelmed.

Since he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, Yeon-shin spoke up.

“I am Jeong Yeon-shin, affiliated with the Demon’s Wings. This is Hyeon Won-chang, also from Demon Wings.”

“I am Weiji Myo-hwa of the Zhongnan Sect.”

Her soft words carried an air of authority. Yeon-shin could clearly feel it.

It wasn’t a specially projected aura. It was just her natural elegance.

This was the first time he felt the grandeur and power of an old sect.

“Weiji Myo-hwa… Ah, the Cloud Sword Dragon of the Zhongnan Sect!”

At Won-chang’s exclamation, he realized the woman's identity.

It was said she had cut down the leader of a rogue group in Guanzhong.

She was already renowned across the world.

Cloud Sword Dragon Weiji Myo-hwa.

Rumors stated that she was a genius who descended from heaven by mistake.

Yu Hyeon of the Mount Hua Sect was sixteen like Yeon-shin this year, and Yeon-shin believed Yu Hyeon would become like her if he secluded himself in harsh training for about five years.

‘She was born and raised in Zhongnan and became a Great Elder at a young age.’

That was where Yeon-shin’s opinions on her stopped for he felt it wasn’t his place to think about such things, being at least four years her junior.

He had a habit of thinking about age due to his terminal condition.

“I am honored to meet Lady Weiji, who has made a name for herself as the Cloud Sword Dragon.”

Won-chang bowed.

Myo-hwa reprimanded her disciples in their presence.

It was only natural to feel favorably towards her. Yeon-shin felt the same.

It was as if they had met a true warrior of the old sects they had only heard of in stories, and he clasped his hands following Hyeon Won-chang.

“It was rude of the Zhongnan Sect to come out so recklessly. We are ashamed in front of Great Hero Weiji.”

He referred to her as “Great Hero” rather than “Lady” despite her not being a man.

She had earned the nickname of “Dragon” even though she was not a man.

She was a senior who roamed the martial world with a sword, like a hero.

His words flowed naturally, owing to her vast experience and remarkable achievements.

Myo-hwa’s eyes softened.

Even Hyeon Won-chang, who uttered foolish sounds, seemed to understand her beauty.

“Though Young Master Jeong drew his sword first, my disciple initiated the attack. I saw it all. As the representative of Zhongnan, I apologize.”

Her gaze on Yeon-shin was warm, and her words, representing the prestigious Zhongnan Sect, felt surprisingly natural.

Among the masters he had met in the martial world, she was as intense as Cheon Ju, the Heavenly Swordmaster of Mount Hua Sect, and her grace seemed unparalleled.

“We have kept our distinguished guests waiting too long. Let me guide you to our sect. We can discuss your purpose once we’re there.”

“Thank you.”

After bowing once more, Yeon-shin noticed a familiar face in his view.

It was his second brother, Jeong Joong-san, looking out of sorts.

“Hye-ah is being taught by the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan Sect?”

“She isn’t a formal disciple, but she’s receiving teachings almost equivalent to that.”

He was surprised at Joong-san’s words as they climbed the mountain together.

The Sword Immortal was said to be a swordsman superior even to the Great Elder, Ye Yil-sin.

He rarely descended to the mortal realm, but his fame was known throughout the world.

It meant that his niece, Jeong Hye-ah, had her talents recognized.

As he felt relieved, Joong-san gave him a complex look.

“More than that… you have grown unbelievably strong. A formal warrior of Desolate Fortress.”

“Grown strong? I am still far from it.”

Yeon-shin withheld his words even from his brother.

The only person who knew of his life span issue was the Lord of Desolate Fortress.

He had no desire to inform more people about it.

“Master Jeong’s ambition is remarkable. You’ve already earned the white uniform and blue robe of Desolate Fortress.”

Weiji Myo-hwa seemed to like Yeon-shin.

Every time she spoke, Joong-san’s expression changed, indicating that even for a fellow disciple of the Zhongnan Sect, her demeanor was rare.

‘It’s not ambition but desperation.’

When he thought it difficult to show respect to words that didn’t resonate, the group reached the Zhongnan Sect's mountain gate.

“Welcome to our sect.”

The series of ancient buildings revealed behind the smiling Myo-hwa were quaint compared to Desolate Fortress, but the traditional power of the old sect was palpable.

The buildings blending with the overwhelming mountain scenery were extraordinary at first glance.

“The head disciple and Great Elder are away fighting with the Master of the Tyrant Sword Sect. Since our guests are from Desolate Fortress, you should meet the highest-ranking elder left in our sect.”

While Myo-hwa spoke, recalling the absolute swordsman who destroyed the Jeong family, Yeon-shin and Won-chang reached the place called Sun Sim-gak.

After climbing several steep mountain peaks.

They encountered an old man and a young girl walking from the nearby training hall.

The girl's eyes widened.

“Uncle!”

Maybe because she had parted from her parents overnight, she ran to him with a longing look.

“Hye-ah, have you been well?”

“Uncle…”

As he reunited with the tearful Hye-ah, Won-chang sniffled beside him.

After gently putting down the child reluctant to part, he faced the old man watching him with a curious gaze.

“Supreme Elder, they are from Desolate Fortress.”

Weiji Myo-hwa spoke with a tone as if addressing her own grandfather.

When Yeon-shin and Won-chang introduced themselves with clasped hands, the old man, with hands behind his back, slowly spoke.

“I am Jong Yeo-il.”

“The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan!”

Won-chang exclaimed with a disbelieving expression and immediately covered his mouth, looking ridiculous, but no one blamed him.

“Greetings, Sword Immortal.”

Yeon-shin calmly clasped his hands again.

Having seen the Lord of Desolate Fortress up close, the fame of the Sword Immortal didn’t shock him as it did Hyeon Won-chang.

They exchanged brief conversations.

Officially, they were there to observe the effects of the great sects’ conflicts on the common people. Personally, they were there to check on the safety of Yeon-shin’s kin.

As Jong Yeo-il stared at Yeon-shin, he suddenly asked.

“How old are you?”

“…Sixteen this year.”

“Hmm…! Would you like to see this?”

Ignoring Yeon-shin's inner reluctance, the Sword Immortal pointed to one side.

It was a place that had caught his attention.

The rugged face of the cliff shrouded in faint mist bore countless marks.

“Supreme Elder?”

Weiji Myo-hwa, with a face that showed she couldn’t understand, called him.

“What are you saying to an outsider? The restoration of the Nine Yang Unified Art is our sect’s wish.”

“The Sword Master was not of our sect. He was a guest invited by the former head disciple as a close friend. In his final years, he engraved his martial arts on Zhongnan Mountain, but it cannot be said to be our sect’s ultimate martial art.”

“No matter what…”

She frowned slightly, unable to accept it. The Sword Immortal laughed.

“I don’t have much time left. If he allows me to see the sword of grace again, then I will do what I must. Although you are said to be the only talent capable of restoring the Nine Yang Unified Art, I cannot place my last wish solely in your hands.”

His tone was incredibly firm. Anyone could feel how strong the obsession he held in his final years was.

“I can’t understand. Even I can’t grasp it, so what did you see in a mere acquaintance?”

“Watch.”

As she followed the Sword Immortal’s gaze to the cliff edge where Yeon-shin stood, Myo-hwa’s eyes widened.

Standing at the cliff’s edge, he was staring at the opposite cliff, with Hyeon Won-chang nervously poised to grab him if he fell.

He was lost in a trance. Anyone could see that.

‘Sword scars.’

Yeon-shin thought. The various traces carved into the cliff bore sharp intent.

They seemed like the overwhelming tracks of a sword that even time couldn’t weather.

Were they the scars left by an immortal?

The sword scars running along the cliff didn’t seem humanly possible.

Unless one could walk on air, it didn’t make sense.

“Those were carved by the Sword Master Gu Yang-cheon fifty-nine years ago.”

The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan, who had approached, said. Hyeon Won-chang was startled.

“Sword Master Gu Yang-cheon!”

“Do you know him?”

Yeon-shin asked, still focused on the cliff.

“The sect founded by his expelled disciple is the Tyrant Sword Sect! In other words, the core of the Tyrant Sword Sect's swordsmanship originates from the Sword Master!”

“He took my hand as a young boy and ascended Zhongnan Mountain. Only the Lord of Desolate Fortress, considered a divine demon, could rival him.”

This meant he was an absolute master.

The Sword Immortal expressed his unfulfilled wish.

At the end of his life, the old swordsman couldn’t let go of his obsession, holding onto the sword of his benefactor.

He didn’t feel offended by calling the Lord of Desolate Fortress a demon.

“Did the Sword Master bring you into the Zhongnan Sect?”

Yeon-shin asked. The Sword Immortal nodded.

“Yes. He carried me, a starving orphan, up to the sect and handed me over to the former head disciple, asking him to raise me.”

“You mentioned a benefactor. Why couldn’t you master his sword?”

“…My destiny didn’t reach that far. Life is like that. I also lacked the talent.”

The Sword Immortal gazed at Yeon-shin, who was staring intently at the cliff.

“Many of our swordsmen have tried. However, it’s not a sword path that can be mastered just by having broad knowledge or high martial arts skills. The experts of our sect agreed that only a brilliant inspiration could unlock the Sword Master’s path.”

As Yeon-shin turned his eyes along the Sword Immortal’s pointed finger, he slightly furrowed his brow.

He focused to see more clearly.

Within the mist on the cliff, there was a phrase written in a bold, flowing style.

“Whoever is worthy shall obtain it.”

“It’s completely a matter of talent. Our sect’s hopes rest on Myo-hwa. Even if she doesn’t show it, I know it’s a heavy burden.”

Only then did Yeon-shin take his eyes off the cliff and turn his head.

Weiji Myo-hwa wore a complicated expression. Despite being called the Zhongnan Sect's unparalleled genius, she didn’t deny it.

But that was all. She briefly met Yeon-shin’s gaze, still unable to understand the situation.

Yeon-shin thought that the Sword Immortal might be a higher master than his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok.

The only person who had penetrated his essence so far was the Lord of Desolate Fortress.

‘Is it possible that they can’t defeat the Tyrant Sword Sect even with such a master?’

Whether Ma Yeon-jeok’s skills had rusted compared to his prime or whether the Sword Immortal’s martial arts were beyond public evaluation.

For now, he was just grateful for another opportunity to become stronger.

As he patted Hye-ah’s head, who had come close to him, looking up,

“What did you see?”

The Sword Immortal asked. Yeon-shin silently drew his white Desolate Sword.

Footnotes:

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