WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 274: Inaction (2)
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The Desolate Fortress party followed Cheong Bo-hwa into the fortress of thickets. Only Jeong Yeon-shin walked beside her.
After studying him for some time with the elven race's eye technique, she silently permitted him to walk at her side.
“I could drive you out at once, but welcome nonetheless.”
The Heavenly Pillar Gate.
It was said to be both a sect and a village.
As whispered in secret, it was vast.
The entire mountain range seemed to serve as the sect's grounds, and a sacred air filled every corner of the boundless land.
Even the leaves, vividly green and gently swaying in the heart of winter, possessed a dreamlike texture.
It was a place one could hardly enter without being a high-ranking figure of Desolate Fortress.
‘A sorcery formation.’
Yeon-shin felt the wondrous energy against his skin as he examined the surroundings. A broad mountain breeze seemed to wrap the area in a translucent veil.
The leaves of the ancient trees around them fluttered hazily. The scenery was breathtaking.
It had an ability similar to the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation that had concealed the Blood Flame Sect's main headquarters.
It was denser than what he had sensed at the entrance to the mountain range. Finding this place would be difficult even if one tried.
It made sense that even the Beggars’ Sect and Hao Clan had been unable to obtain information about the Heavenly Pillar Gate.
He slowly spoke.
“I heard Dark Night Hall has been searching this mountain. Is that true?”
“It has always been so. Our enmity with them runs deep, going back to our distant ancestors. By nature, they are people we can hardly coexist with. Rather than a race of light, they ought to be called the dark race.”
Cheong Bo-hwa, sect leader of the Heavenly Pillar Gate, answered. She walked as though floating through the air, stepping upon the tips of grass blades.
Her great-grandson Cheong Myeong walked behind her, yet she did not look back even once.
Cheong Myeong did not seem to care. He laced his hands behind his head.
Above the slightly slipped cuff of his Blue Uniform sleeve, the blue veins of the robust swordsman throbbed.
“A spar to compare signature martial arts... I simply cannot entrust it to anyone but the Squad Leader. Since we're here, we should at least go beyond the lake. I wonder whether our youngsters can handle it.”
Shin So-bin blinked her long lashes.
“Beyond the lake? Why?”
“My younger brother is lying there. His name is Cheong-su, and unlike our Squad Leader, he is a lively child. Well, he is rather like the Squad Leader in how affectionate he is.”
“Huh? I never heard that Senior Demon Sword had a younger brother.”
“I mean his grave. It has been about ten years, I think. He was out scouting when he was struck by Dark Night Hall's ultimate archery art. It is called Ten Miles One Kill, a martial art where it is difficult to identify the source of an attack. It was so swift that no one could trace it.”
“Ah.”
So-bin fell silent.
Yeon-shin, walking ahead, spoke as if he were calm.
“Who was the killer? They must have been a peak master.”
“I should not have brought it up. Squad Leader, there is strength in your eyes... It seems the culprit has not been caught yet.”
Cheong Myeong did not readily explain further. He glanced at the back of his great-grandmother, Cheong Bo-hwa, then fell silent.
It was a matter concerning their blood kin. Yeon-shin could not force an answer.
Perhaps the epithet Blue-Eyed Demon Sword had come from the ruthless swordsmanship Cheong Myeong had wielded to avenge his younger brother.
Desolate Fortress Blue Uniform martial artists could accept solo missions and rewards whenever they wished. Perhaps Cheong Myeong had roamed the martial world and accumulated training to face Dark Night Hall's masters, an assassin group counted among the finest in the martial world.
Yeon-shin felt as though he had glimpsed the inner world of the senior swordsman who had seemed so mysterious.
A sudden intuition came to him. His recuperation would not be smooth. The acupoints and muscles throughout his body, made sluggish by recuperation, seemed to grow heavier.
“Sect Leader Cheong, I am curious why you did not request Desolate Fortress's aid.”
He asked.
The elven elder, who had listened in silence, spoke.
“Receive help from those who have rendered the value of pure bloodlines meaningless? That cannot be. Our connection to Desolate Fortress can only grow fainter. It has become harder and harder to find traces of our clan among them.”
Cheong Bo-hwa's voice sounded like a song steeped in resentment. It continued with force.
“The Lord of Desolate Fortress no longer creates new martial arts, and the clans who took root in this unfamiliar land refine the old arts of the Han Chinese instead of creating anything new. I mean the old martial arts that ravaged powerless clans during the founding era.”
“You seem to place great meaning on martial arts.”
It was a disposition Yeon-shin could not deeply understand. To him, martial arts were no more than a means to extend his life.
His innate upper dantian allowed him to enjoy martial studies, but he could not forget their essence. He had no choice but to remember it.
Cheong Bo-hwa laughed softly.
“Besides, are Desolate Fortress's hands and feet not severely lacking? With the Divine Sword Squad Leader in that condition, one can guess the situation there. The influence of the once-mighty Seventeen Squads of the Divine Sword Squad must be waning. Is that not why you came to our sect, to hasten the Squad Leader's recovery? And yours as well.”
She suddenly glanced at the young Squad Leader.
The old woman's eyes were too deep to measure as she walked upright, her enormous frame standing tall.
Her powerful inner strength flashed continuously in her gaze, yet it did not feel purely domineering. The head of the ancient elven sect was like an old tree.
In her blue eyes, Yeon-shin saw a storm scarred by countless wounds. It was a vortex fractured in tangled lines.
‘An ordinary level of refinement will not satisfy those eyes.’
The Leader of Demon Wings considered whether the martial arts he had created so far could surpass the Heavenly Pillar Gate's standards.
As Shin So-bin and Hyeon Won-chang's presences behind him felt especially lively, Yeon-shin faced the tasks of recovery and Dark Night Hall.
* * *
“Bong Gong. The Heavenly Pillar Gate has opened its gates once.”
“Have you traced the earth vein?”
“Yes. We believe we will find it soon.”
“Put the Heavenly Thunder Bow Corps on standby. Strike those who come out again.”
“Bong Gong, if we are careless, Desolate Fortress may notice us.”
“Famine and chaos. This is when their intelligence network is at its weakest.”
“...My concern was excessive.”
“Yes. Why do you think they were able to operate the Seventeen Squads of the Divine Sword Squad without difficulty all this time? They used the information network of government offices, which is of a different nature from beggars and street scum. The government offices and relay stations spread throughout the world.”
“...”
“But officials during a famine cannot remain incorruptible in the face of threats and bribes from local sects. Officials who do not covet wealth and maintain clean conduct appear only in peaceful times. Desolate Fortress has recently become no different from blind swordsmen. They know it themselves, which is why they swing their seventeen treasured swords about like executioners. Their size alone has grown absurdly large.”
“The Heavenly Pillar Gate generally opens its gates only to Desolate Fortress. Perhaps the Divine Sword Squad Leader, battered beyond recognition, has been escorted there. A figure of Squad Leader rank may have arrived to guard that person as well...”
“I have the Leader of Demon Wings in mind.”
“Then we must approach with even greater secrecy. Many peak masters have died to the current Leader of Demon Wings. They say people in Sichuan and Shaanxi commonly call the Leader of Demon Wings a supernatural phenomenon beyond his years.”
“I have heard. A man who creates and uses martial arts of dharma power himself. They say Ghost-Spirit Divine Sword and the First Demon of Shaanxi died because they failed to overcome their opposing qi.”
“We must also consider the place where Yeoryeong's Young Lord died. The Leader of Demon Wings killed the previous Chief Guardian and the Beast King Sect Leader at the same time. They say he even held a triumphal march through Xiangyang to announce the achievement... Judging from his past actions, he must be a peak master whose arrogance serves as a strength rather than a flaw.”
“Form the Thunderflower Bow Formation. Once it has gathered inner strength for at least ten days, I will draw on that energy and unleash Ten Miles One Kill.”
* * *
The noon sun was dazzling.
Sunlight quietly settled over the sprawling garden, yet the ancient trees encircling it like fortress walls made the place deeply green.
“...”
Only silence existed, despite the many people gathered there.
Over thirty martial artists of the Heavenly Pillar Gate.
Every last one was a master.
Men and women, young and old, stood with their arms folded or their hands behind their backs atop branches that reached high into the sky. Boys and girls leaned against tree trunks so vast that one had to crane one's neck to see their tops...
They wore fine silk garments in many colors, as though they had developed advanced sericulture techniques for raising silkworm moths. Every one of them possessed ears as sharp as the blades of divine swords.
The windlike air around their bodies was equally striking. Their robes never stopped fluttering.
No one spoke.
As if they understood all that had happened, they only watched the Desolate Fortress party.
The sound of water winding through the valley and the breeze brushing past wildflowers seemed unusually clear.
“Put that down and come here.”
Yeon-shin spoke.
As though he had been waiting, Languid Flame Dragon set down the Divine Sword Squad Leader's palanquin and came over. Hyeon Won-chang, who had been holding the rear handle with him, came as well.
Soft snoring continued to drift from it. The Purple Uniform swordsman who contended for the title of the strongest under heaven was alone utterly at ease.
“I told you, Squad Leader. It is because they trust you.”
Shin So-bin leaned her shoulder against Yeon-shin's elbow and whispered.
The end of her long braid tickled his forearm, but rather than flinching, he felt envy. It seemed So-bin had not yet reached the turbulent years of adolescence.
‘It must be nice to be young.’
After counting the little more than two years remaining in his life, Yeon-shin spoke.
“So-bin. You are first.”
Her clear eyes, startled at once, looked up at him.
“I expected it. What should I show them?”
“Whatever you want.”
The Leader of Demon Wings gave the order.
With a shout, Shin So-bin strode forward.
Sunlight rippled through her swaying hair, and a faint haze began to rise from beneath her feet as she stepped through the thickets. It was the prelude to Phantom Wing Step.
She had inherited Yeon-shin's true martial lineage.
With her innate senses, she employed Seom-ye's individual martial arts where they best suited the situation.
She used the patterns of Demon's Light, which struck at an enemy's opening, only at decisive moments. So long as she followed her senses, she knew that was more suitable for a one-on-one life-and-death duel.
She used Radiant Art Formation, which fully incorporated both sides, only in group battles. She had the talent to do so.
“The era of Grandmasters has passed.”
Several people from the Heavenly Pillar Gate stepped forward. Cheong Bo-hwa stood among them.
“Bodhidharma, Zhang Sanfeng, the Heavenly Demon...”
She continued slowly.
“It is an age when those who revere the old ridicule and mock the new. It has been so since the founding era. With martial arts bearing the will of their forebears, they coveted the beauty of our clan, men and women alike. That is why we decided to reject the old martial lineages and no longer accept their culture. It was a decision made long ago.”
“I see many contradictions.”
Yeon-shin, standing still, pointed it out calmly. Cheong Bo-hwa nodded.
“Only obstinacy and martial arts remain. Yet even that is this sect's tradition. If we offend the eyes of a Grandmaster like you, then use the martial arts created by your hands to tear apart this sect's understanding.”
Her wrinkled fingers then pointed far into the distance.
“That is the thickest trunk of the World Tree. The Heavenly Pillar, the sacred pillar of heaven. The lake you seek lies beneath it.”
Earlier, Jeong Nan-song, who was said to be Cheong Myeong's junior, had spoken of a sacred pillar.
It had not been an exaggeration.
Yeon-shin suddenly understood. At the same time, he endured the shock that seemed to brighten his vision.
What he had mistaken for the sky until now was actually a massive blue tree trunk stretching so far it filled his entire field of view.
At that moment, it covered the whole valley. Its transparent, distorted bark had been masquerading as the sky.
“I will judge not the person but the martial arts, and their level of refinement.”
Cheong Bo-hwa stepped back several paces.
Then the man described as Cheong Myeong's junior stepped forward. He was the swordsman called Jeong Nan-song, with long dark green hair.
He did not immediately look at Shin So-bin, who faced him.
His blue eyes fixed on Yeon-shin.
“I heard you are the superior of that expelled disciple.”
“That is right.”
The Leader of Demon Wings answered with his arms folded. A cold light flickered in Jeong Nan-song's eyes.
“You carry a sword that is difficult to bear. That Cheong Myeong is so sharp that he cuts apart even the trust between people. I have trained bitterly for a long time to one day break his sword, yet I still lack the confidence to do so.”
“I see.”
“I will gauge you through this girl's martial arts. Unique martial arts naturally contain much, so I will be able to assess your vessel and disposition. The eyes of our clan differ from those of you Han Chinese.”
“I could already tell that your martial arts are remarkable. You have desperately woven the structure of the qi in your eye technique, and judging from the balance spreading from the Yongquan acupoints in both feet, you have clearly tempered your heart like a sword. What astonishing single-mindedness. This Squad Leader has broadened his horizons.”
Yeon-shin spoke in a genuinely admiring tone.
It was thanks to his niece. He had learned to show compassion to the slow-witted.
The efforts of lesser martial artists had naturally become visible to him, but this was like a monkey speaking.
To accumulate that much training with senses that handled aura so crudely...
“Th-thank you for your words.”
Jeong Nan-song slightly turned his head and stammered.
A cool breeze passed through the gathering of elven masters. It seemed like the aura born from the humility of the peak master, the Leader of Demon Wings.
Preparations for the spar proceeded amid the somewhat warmer mood.
“Begin.”
The Heavenly Pillar Gate's sect leader spoke in a voice touched with laughter.
Shin So-bin, who had been glaring at Jeong Nan-song through narrowed eyes, took the opening stance of a fist art. At the same time, she stomped the ground with one foot.
Boom!
A powerful True Step shook the ground beneath the thickets. Deep vibrations spread in every direction as the grass leaves beside her shoulders whirled around her swinging arm.
Whooosh!
The space ahead distorted. The force gathered in that single True Step tore through the air along her fist.
Her neatly braided hair came loose and billowed blackly. Jeong Nan-song did not even have time to raise his sword.
The moment his brows lifted, a white fist struck his solar plexus, accompanied by streams of force waves scratching pale lines through the air.
Bang!
Jeong Nan-song's body flew backward. The thickets were shredded apart by the sharply swirling wind.
The instant a heavy impact sounded as he hit the ground, silence settled over the valley.
It was decided in a single move.
Footnotes:
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