WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 278: Inaction (6)
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An assassin of the Thirteen Heavens faced a Desolate Fortress Squad Leader.
Dark Night Hall's Endless Squad was one of the foremost assassination groups under heaven. Its members were not mere tools, but assassination experts who stood nearly without peer in the martial world.
That inevitably meant they possessed a wealth of information. They had even considered the possibility that the Leader of Demon Wings had entered the Heavenly Pillar Gate, which held the World Tree's lake.
“...”
Son Sang-myeong calmed his agitation with a silent breath, then carefully examined the youthful figure before him.
An assassin's opening stance changed according to the opponent's martial arts and level of attainment. He needed certainty.
‘A realm high enough to walk upon water, and black trousers.’
A tightly defined abdomen showed through gaps in the long strips of cloth. The boy had carelessly wrapped bandages around his torso over his black martial trousers.
Bluish moonlight draped his shoulders and arms. Whenever his toes slowly touched the lake's surface, clear ripples spread outward in circles.
There was no room for doubt.
‘The traits in the facial-feature portrait match.’
The sketch had failed to capture his appearance properly. Still, he was undoubtedly the Leader of Demon Wings.
Aside from the Young Sect Master of the Ming Cult and the monster of the Blood Flame Sect, there was supposedly no one of his generation under heaven who could rival him.
In truth, he was too young to be placed alongside Laughing Heaven Unrivaled or the Seventh Apostle, and rumors even held that his talent might surpass theirs.
They also said he was an orthodox martial artist advancing toward completion in every aspect of combat.
That was the dazzling strength of the current Leader of Demon Wings.
‘Someone who builds stable martial power faster than any unorthodox martial artist.’
The power of orthodox martial arts once they passed a certain level was well established in the history of the martial world. Who knew how sharp his senses might be?
He had apparently suffered internal injuries on his journey to Shaanxi, judging by how he had immersed himself in the lake. What should he do?
“You're from Dark Night Hall, aren't you?”
The foremost figure of Desolate Fortress's Demon Wings asked quietly.
A chill ran through Son Sang-myeong.
He did not answer. Warming the back of his cold neck with qi, he considered how to coat his target with the Pursuit Incense for Ten Miles One Kill.
It took only an instant. An assassin's thoughts were instinctive.
Then he spoke.
“This concerns the clan.”
“...!”
The woman in white martial robes who had been watching the Leader of Demon Wings twitched. Her reaction was far too slow.
Dark Night Hall had long since surpassed the Heavenly Pillar Gate in martial strength, tempered as it had been by the harsh currents of the world.
By the time she twisted at the waist and swept up her left hand, Son Sang-myeong had seized her forearm and placed a dagger to the back of her neck.
A powerful pulse of inner energy rose from his pale, dark gray hand.
Whoosh!
Their collars fluttered briefly. The unfinished force wave scattered into nothingness.
The Heavenly Pillar Gate's Moon-Guarding Piercing Art had not even fully taken form.
The subdued martial artist shuddered.
“Your clumsy Threefold Net Tree Step and shallow inner energy stand out. That lifeless golden hair is the mark of intermarriage within the clan. You're Gi Geom-hyang's disciple.”
Son Sang-myeong continued, moving only his lips.
“Son Hye-hyang. I heard you were my distant niece. My great-grandfather was your great-great-grandfather... Yet your accomplishments are pathetic. Would it have been different if it were the Blue-Eyed Demon Sword?”
“Son Sang-myeong of Dark Night Hall...! Let me go!”
“It is amusing how boldly you speak. Unlike your mouth, your body cannot move an inch. The Heavenly Pillar Gate truly remains nothing but hothouse flowers. Unaware that its destruction is approaching, they wave their arms like leaves and call it training.”
Son Sang-myeong then fixed his eyes on the Leader of Demon Wings.
‘Six zhang away, and standing on the water... I cannot close the distance immediately. Treading Duckweed, Crossing Water cannot be used at high speed.’
His gaze met that of the young Squad Leader.
The reflection of his own figure in those pitch-black eyes looked unfamiliar. His skin seemed as though ash might rub off it, yet it looked particularly dark.
Within those mirror-like pupils, Son Sang-myeong wore a base, expressionless face.
The face of one prepared to die did not look as resolute as he had expected. At least, that was how it felt to him.
“If you do not wish to become the target of Ten Miles One Kill, do not interfere. Since ancient times, numerous Black Uniform masters have died to it. Every one of them was a blade wielder whose name resounded through martial history.”
Son Sang-myeong spoke in a whisper.
It was a provocation. There was not a master in the martial world without pride.
He needed to draw that lofty young master as close as possible. The distance was still too great to scatter the Pursuit Incense.
Splash.
The Leader of Demon Wings stepped closer as he spoke.
“Are you talking about my seniors?”
“I have lived long. Their shocked expressions remain vivid even now. The sight of those who enjoyed invincibility through their cause and martial arts slowly lowering their eyes to the arrow shafts lodged in their chests...”
Dry amusement entered Son Sang-myeong's voice.
He continued.
“Dark Night Hall's Ten Miles One Kill is an unmatched secret art. Since the early Ming dynasty, it was the first to mar the reputations of masters who had ruled absolutely.”
“Have you truly lived long? Your qi storage does not look especially impressive. It seems it does not accumulate simply because one lives longer. This is my first time seeing that firsthand.”
The Leader of Demon Wings approached with his head slightly tilted.
“...Your Squad Leader attacked our Hall Lord. That was a grave mistake. It set in motion the great undertaking we had delayed for so long. The first step is the destruction of the Heavenly Pillar Gate. We need the World Tree's lake beneath your feet.”
Each word brought him closer.
Son Sang-myeong's eyes grew colder. An assassin's sense for distance was no less precise than a swordsman's.
Each time the Leader of Demon Wings' bare feet, marked with blue veins, cut through the water, he felt the surging aura. It was overwhelmingly dense.
It was fine.
His purpose was not victory. This was a planned mutual death. He had come prepared to discard his life.
That was the only way for Dark Night Hall, whose Hall Lord had suffered a fatal wound, to pierce through a Desolate Fortress Black Uniform.
Quietly.
Very slowly, he raised his inner energy. Powder that had flowed through his sleeve settled in Son Sang-myeong's hand.
Ssssh.
As the wind that had toyed with the moonlight gradually held its breath, the water beneath the Leader of Demon Wings' feet suddenly blurred.
It was Leg Arts, unleashed without warning. A huge spray rose as his foot kicked through the water.
Through it, a transparent, razor-edged wave surged forward. It swept through the air with the savage speed of a fired fire bomb.
Water infused with a supreme master's inner energy was itself nearly a single slash.
Craaaash!
“Kh...!”
It was as Son Sang-myeong launched the powder over Son Hye-hyang's head.
The crest of the wave flared like blue fire, then abruptly accelerated like sparks struck by lightning.
The sound of the air tearing apart was tremendous. Son Sang-myeong belatedly recalled the principle behind Myriad Flowers Rain. But he was, quite literally, too late.
Slash!
It happened in an instant. The lengthened stream of water split his vision in two. Droplets scattered before his eyes, catching the moonlight as they flickered.
Dark Night Hall's master assassin had one final thought.
He hoped even a single grain of Pursuit Incense had reached its target.
* * *
The continued instruction took place beside the lake as damp gusts swept through the trees.
Dew holding a faint glow frequently rolled from leaves and blades of grass.
A clear voice rang out.
“Your movements penetrate the foundations of elven lightness skills, so matching the qi in your Yongquan acupoints to your feet and the water should not be difficult. Yes. For you, the current Leader of Demon Wings, walking across the water was never especially difficult. Finding it hard to use True Step there is the same problem for anyone.”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader spoke while lying on his side, his back to the water.
Propping up his head with one arm, he looked like a carefree idler reading while reclining. He was utterly at ease.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, he appeared to have reached a realm where neither body nor mind was bound by anything.
‘Unhindered Adaptability of body and mind.’
Desolate Fortress's highest-ranking figures all carried themselves so freely. His maternal grandfather Ma Yeon-jeok and Ak Su-rim, foremost among the Black Uniforms, had been the same, though the Divine Sword Squad Leader had a different temperament.
Jeong Yeon-shin had learned the dignity of the strong from them. Desolate Fortress's most esteemed figures acted as they pleased beneath the banner of protecting the people's lives.
‘And they protect ordinary people well.’
Jeong Yeon-shin stood beside the representative of Desolate Fortress's Purple Uniforms, on the path toward his life's goal.
The Divine Sword Squad Leader's conduct and aura were being etched into his sight in their entirety.
His eyes, turned blue by the Heaven-Displaying Eye Technique, carefully scanned his direct superior's habitual movements, the pulses of inner energy in his acupoints, and the structure of his muscles.
It was a peerless realm worthy of holding a World Tree fruit.
To counter the Baihui acupoint's widening, which seemed as natural as a crescent moon filling out into a full moon and as absolute as fate, he had to reach that man's realm.
“I understand why you're acting that way with so many people watching, but...”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader glanced back and spoke.
“Your gaze is rather burdensome. Are young people these days all like this? You're quite audacious.”
“My apologies.”
“Don't say what you don't mean. Your eyes are sparkling.”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader looked thoroughly uneasy. Was Jeong Yeon-shin learning something strange from watching him?
It was a concern that did not reach the young Leader of Demon Wings. Jeong Yeon-shin only watched the Divine Sword Squad Leader with an innocent expression.
Rustle.
With a sigh, the Divine Sword Squad Leader rose.
“I very much wish to give even one more thing to an outstanding junior.”
“This junior's vessel has more than enough room.”
“Don't say that so calmly. You already seem so earnest that it makes me regretful. In any case, I inherited a single-lineage martial lineage from a sect called the Dragon Ring Gate. Understand that I cannot simply pass on anything at random. Senior Tyrant Sword likely did not wish to burden his precious grandson with the side effects of tyrannical martial arts. My reason is somewhat different.”
“So there is only one?”
“It is a remarkable unfinished lightness skill. It should meet your standards. Many said it would display the greatest sprinting speed of the age if completed... but much of its mnemonic formula was lost, leaving behind only a few techniques.”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader dusted off his purple sleeves and grinned.
“It is an old story. Listen.”
At the end of the Yuan dynasty, a dwarven blacksmith who had settled in the Central Plains alongside the elven race coveted the horn of the Yellow Dragon.
The reason had not been passed down. In the first place, no one knew whether dragons truly existed as spiritual beasts.
No one knew whether the blacksmith had truly seen the Yellow Dragon or had become deeply obsessed with an old legend.
Only tales remained of exalted clans descending through the ages while all kinds of supernatural phenomena ran rampant.
The blacksmith wandered the martial world to hunt the dragon. He befriended countless martial artists and heroes, training in lightness skills and martial arts.
His life's goal was to approach the dragon, break off its horn, and claim it. Exalted arts were essential.
He befriended righteous heroes and refined his martial arts through unorthodox martial artists.
In time, he also exchanged knowledge with the immortals of the Nine Sects. At last, he met Yongmyeong Zhenren of the Kunlun Sect, whose movement art allowed one to roam through empty air and whose fame was widespread.
It was an age when survival was prized. If their hearts aligned, they shared martial arts as well.
The blacksmith then wove a teaching derived from Yongmyeong Zhenren's Cloud Dragon Eight Steps together with elven footwork and the powerful steps of the dwarven race, founding the Dragon Surge Lightness Skill.
While seeking masters of martial arts as a master craftsman, he had become a Grandmaster himself.
He departed after boldly declaring that he would return with a dragon's horn, but he never came back.
Whether he truly forged divine weapons and rare artifacts, or how his story ended, had not been passed down.
All that remained was the claim that Yongmyeong Zhenren had carefully preserved the Dragon Surge Lightness Skill manual he left behind.
The manual weathered the years.
It was soon seized by the Ming Cult, which destroyed the Kunlun Sect. It then passed to the imperial court, and eventually into the hands of the current Divine Sword Squad Leader, losing much along the way.
That was where the Divine Sword Squad Leader's story ended.
Jeong Yeon-shin wore an odd expression.
“It is a wandering martial art.”
“The essence has vanished, leaving only the ideas for handling body and qi. Is that what you wanted?”
“I like the story. That blacksmith must have approached his goal, one way or another. Since he never returned.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke quietly.
The martial art that would offer great utility once completed was the Protective Qi Technique. It could greatly extend Ultimate Thunder's time limit.
Yet the Protective Qi Technique was an art that had to encompass the entire body.
To complete it at the level of a divine art, he had no choice but to weave it together one stitch at a time. It would take a long time.
“Since you have completed the basics through Treading Duckweed, Crossing Water, I shall recite it for you at once. By the way...”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader lifted an eyebrow. He was looking past Jeong Yeon-shin's shoulder at Son Hye-hyang's retreating back as she went to make her report on the opposite side of the lakeshore.
Even when Dark Night Hall's assassin had attacked, he had remained reclining at ease.
“That young woman of the Son Clan seems interested in you. Have you no thought of forming a connection?”
“What?”
“A martial artist's rest must include both body and mind. The peace shared with a companion cannot be bought for a thousand gold. It is like spreading bedding in your mind. Someone who must run without rest like you may need it even more.”
“Are you married?”
“No. Who knows when I might die? Why make some innocent person a widow?”
“What do you...?”
“Once you reach Purple Uniform at the main fortress, it will be hard to count how many enemies you have. The instant I proclaim to the martial world that I am washing my hands of it all, every bastard under heaven will swarm in, saying they have to take my head.”
“I will become a Purple Uniform as well. I intend to challenge you within two years.”
The Divine Sword Squad Leader raised the corner of his mouth.
“I don't know about two years, but you may become a Purple Uniform stronger than I am. That is, if you loosen your tension often as you do now. Then you may truly build a family.”
“Ah...”
Jeong Yeon-shin parted his lips slightly. The Divine Sword Squad Leader continued.
“Are you not only cooling your body in the lake? The soreness in the mind cannot be treated through breathing exercises and meditation. The expression you just made, as though you found this utterly absurd, was rather worth seeing. If you are to face Ten Miles One Kill, loosen both body and mind in that way. It is a very frightening martial art.”
The atmosphere of exchanging martial arts flowed as naturally as water.
And so the days passed.
The World Tree's lake repeatedly swallowed and released the full moon. During seven nights of moonlight, Jeong Yeon-shin's legs grew a little longer and took in another peerless secret art upon the still water.
Before long, the Heavenly Pillar Gate had been swept into turmoil.
The Divine Sword Squad Leader spoke as though it were nothing.
“Inherit my martial lineage. I will give you more than old man Ma.”
Footnotes:
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