WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 288: Lotus (7)
──────
Most martial sects in Shanxi had been unable to attend the Martial Alliance Assembly held in Shaanxi.
They lacked the breadth of experience needed to recognize the Leader of Demon Wings of Desolate Fortress beneath a false identity.
The world was immensely vast. Once one crossed a single city, even rumors about the appearance of a fairly famous supreme master often became distorted in countless ways.
As for Ak Su-rim, the Desolate Divine Spear, some regions of the martial world claimed she was a five-year-old child, while others called her a wrinkled old woman.
The Apostle Thirteen Heavens, the Nine Great Sects, and the Eight Great Families.
Shanxi Province had no martial sect of great renown.
Though its land was as broad as a small nation, it was nearly barren ground for martial lineages when compared to the endlessly vast world.
Its powerful military establishment did not stand idly by as major factions took root.
The martial artists of Shanxi lived in a world of their own. Ruthless schemes, secret negotiations, covert plunder, and ceaseless martial training...
They were too busy finding food during the famine and expanding their influence.
It was an age that demanded it. As owners of fertile land, they planted swords instead of scarecrows and drove away people rather than birds.
Then they enjoyed the refinement of great families. They tasted delicacies during a famine, collected famous paintings, and welcomed renowned figures from every field as guests.
KRAAASH! CLAAANG!
A deafening roar swept through the banquet hall.
It was no surprise that the blood demons had targeted the food first.
Their sunken cheeks made it clear that something too powerful to resist had driven them out, leaving them unable to eat properly.
They had heard rumors that the renowned Gongya Family was holding a feast and launched their attack.
The martial artists, startled into drawing their weapons, were in no position to care for the servants around them.
The Blood Flame Sect's Star-Absorbing Method caused a fatal loss of inner energy. They had no choice but to desperately raise their aura at once.
The clouds of dust rising chaotically from the banquet hall floor showed just how wary they were.
The moment they were bitten by those fangs, the inner energy they had painstakingly accumulated would vanish.
Time gone by never returned. Even the tiny amount of power refined through qi circulation and meditation the day before yesterday was nearly a treasure to martial artists.
As the honored martial artists stepped into position to form a battle formation, the heads of the various sects looked over their disciples.
The melee everyone had expected...
Ended in a single breath.
“Body Movement Scripture...?”
A martial artist from a prominent family, gripping a sword hilt, muttered under his breath.
Whoosh.
Something like a comet suddenly swept through the banquet hall in a single circuit, leaving a long trail of pale light in its wake.
The Blood Masters blocking its path were shattered, bodies and all. Few people had properly seen what move had been used.
Could that truly have been the aftermath of a single lightness skill?
It was as though a constellation hidden by sunlight had suddenly appeared in sharp relief. It was a martial art difficult to imagine in a land where martial arts-practicing Green Forest bandits ran rampant.
Thud. Thud.
Chunks of flesh flung high into the air fell only afterward.
Fragments of limbs, their blood evaporated. Such a sight was difficult to see even after a thunderclap bomb struck, which meant the Force Projection behind that blow had completely crushed the Blood Masters' Protective Qi Technique.
All movement stopped, both the attacking blood demons and the martial artists resisting them.
The children of powerful families, who had been discussing famous paintings, stole glances at the wandering martial artist their own age.
The sect leaders who had been discussing the strategic administration of Shanxi Province revealed their shock with gazes that surpassed their disciples' discernment.
Only their ingrained refinement kept it from showing too clearly.
Rustle.
At the banquet table, where the Body Movement Scripture had begun, the cuff of a dark sleeve brushed the tabletop. Jeong Yeon-shin had already returned to his place, and his fingers broke the silence as they closed around a wine cup.
He tilted it toward Gwi Il-tae of the Shanxi Noble Family, who stood there blankly.
“I hear bandits become a disorderly rabble once they lose their leader.”
“...”
“Blood demons aren't like that. Their foundation lies in doctrine, not a leader. We can't leave the survivors alone, so move at once.”
Experience now colored Jeong Yeon-shin's words. The jab at Gwi Il-tae, who had spoken of foundations, rang clear.
A wandering martial artist by status, with the face of a young nobleman, yet he spoke like a seasoned veteran of the martial world hardened by countless real battles.
Huangcheon Sect Leader Geom Un-bi. Anyone could see that he was a strange man.
Gwi Il-tae, who had wagged his tongue like a jackal from within a bear's massive frame, silently met his gaze. Deep shadows seemed to settle over his bulging eyes.
He was the eldest son of a great martial family. His knowledge of the martial world might have been narrow, but his eye for people was not. He was no common third-rate fool.
The man he had considered no more than a pawn to disgrace the Gongya Family was mocking the direct heir of the Shanxi Noble Family. He could not carelessly open his mouth and retort.
Gwi Il-tae slowly turned away. He had recognized an unexpected master.
In a fight, there was nothing to gain from facing such a powerful opponent, only losses. A moment of reckless pride could leave him like the shattered Blood Masters, torn into scraps of flesh.
‘A master worthy of exchanging blows with the Family Head...’
Mount Hua Sect and Tyrant Sword Sect stood at the height of Shaanxi's martial world. In Shanxi, the Gongya Family and the Gwi Family held themselves as the foremost powerful clans.
Even if regional martial worlds differed greatly, a Family Head was still an ultimate master.
If Geom Un-bi possessed that level of martial prowess, a chill down Gwi Il-tae's spine was inevitable. His earlier remarks had been close to outrageous insults.
Gwi Il-tae guessed why his head had not been cut off. Other than his status, nothing else came to mind.
As a guest of the Gongya Family, which proclaimed itself an orthodox sect, Geom Un-bi could not simply sever an honored guest's head over a few remarks.
Shing.
He drew his saber. He was in no position to ignore a wandering martial artist's order.
‘The Gongya Family has gained wings. This is serious.’
As Gwi Il-tae headed toward the blood demons that had lost their Blood Masters, his expression hardened.
He was the acting head of the Shanxi Noble Family. He needed to take what had happened at this banquet seriously.
* * *
There had been no casualties.
A melee had broken out, yet every servant survived.
It was because the nameless wandering martial artist had served as a decisive weapon in a sect war.
He wiped out the enemy vanguard in one stroke and broke their morale. Until the battle ended, he remained standing at his seat, watching only over the safety of the common people, ready to display that mysterious lightness skill again at any moment.
A strange obsession showed in the slight droop at the corners of his eyes. He seemed deeply concerned for the lives of those who did menial work.
The way his gaze swept over the room made that clear.
He paid no attention to the distinguished clans. It was as if he deeply identified with the plight of those who lived in the martial world like mayflies.
Still, he had performed a deed worthy of such behavior.
Though there was some gossip afterward, Huangcheon Sect Leader Geom Un-bi became a major topic among Shanxi's powerful families.
“He must have inherited uncommon blood like ours. Such remarkable talent could never come from lowly stock.”
“Can't you tell just by looking at his face?”
“Even the Gongya Family Head seemed a little surprised. If he truly is a wandering martial artist who entered this manor only recently, our family should promise him power and treasure and try to win him over...”
“A wandering martial artist? They said he's the leader of the sole-successor Huangcheon Sect. If you wish to gain a person, first set your attitude straight.”
Despite the attack, the banquet did not end in a day. With every passing day, it continued as an even grander feast.
It had become an event for the Gongya Family to display the strength it had gained by acquiring such a powerful master.
The Family Head even invited Jeong Yeon-shin separately to share wine with him. Even the news that Yeoryeong and the Tyrant Sword Sect had clashed with the Martial Alliance Assembly seemed to have been pushed aside.
Around then, Jeong Yeon-shin received a letter from a servant.
―I would like to meet at Everdark Pavilion, west of the manor, on the fifteenth day. If you make the trip, you will never regret it.
Confidence seeped from the brushstrokes.
The boldly written characters bore traces of profound inner energy, as though they revealed the writer's character and level of martial skill.
It differed from the countless invitations Jeong Yeon-shin had received in that short time.
“The letter smells lovely. This is paper made from glowwood by the Water-Moon Sect, used when sending word to important people. It says the fifteenth day, doesn't it? We received an invitation as well.”
The boy said this with his hands loosely clasped behind his back, leaning his upper body slightly back.
He seemed to be trying not to read the contents, showing courtesy in his own way.
Gongya Su.
He was the Second Young Master of the Gongya Family. Since the banquet incident, he had frequently visited the side residence.
He was a cheerful boy who smiled brightly and said he wished to treat Jeong Yeon-shin as an older brother. Yet the sharp eyes distinctive of the Gongya bloodline softened with admiration only when they looked at Jeong Yeon-shin.
He greatly resembled his older sister, Gongya Jeong.
“The Water-Moon Sect Leader told our Family Head that absolute safety would be guaranteed.”
Gongya Jeong continued with an unusual expression.
“The Family Head permitted us to attend. It is a confident promise from someone whose ties to our family run deep.”
Even after witnessing the martial prowess shown by Huangcheon Sect Leader Geom Un-bi, her speech and bearing remained composed. A cliff-like firmness flowed from the way she respectfully held both hands together before her.
She gave Jeong Yeon-shin the impression of a precipice.
She was a martial artist like a stone vessel that had carved itself down through an entirely different span of time. She felt unimaginably distant.
Jeong Yeon-shin tried not to meet the eldest daughter's eyes.
She was someone who stirred the inferiority he carried deep within. Before a stone that would keep rolling through a long age, the mayfly of Desolate Fortress secretly felt wretched.
It was an emotion he had never felt even before masters of the elven race. Was it because the year had turned and death had drawn much closer, and because they were connected through instruction?
“Are there more participants in the martial arts tournament whom I have not met?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked with his gaze lowered to the side.
“Yes. Shanxi is a vast land, so not everyone has gathered yet. There should be more people at the banquet in Everdark Pavilion.”
“I'll attend. We'll go together.”
He answered while thinking of the Pure Blood Robe. There were many names to enter into his ledger.
* * *
The sun hung high in the sky.
Distant sunlight poured down, as transparent as moonlight.
The water rippling beside the lake glittered like stars, and an elegant pavilion with a curved roof stood tall in the distance.
“Welcome.”
Gwi Il-tae of the Shanxi Noble Family gave the three a brief cupped-fist salute.
He seemed more concerned with the newly appeared wandering martial artist, Geom Un-bi, than with the powerful competitors from the Gongya Family.
The light in his sunken eyes was sharp. So was the secret glance with which he studied Jeong Yeon-shin.
Yet his thoughts were completely concealed.
‘A wandering martial artist is still a wandering martial artist. Baseborn.’
Gwi Il-tae had volunteered to guide them. This was not a banquet hosted by the Water-Moon Sect alone.
The Shanxi Noble Family had contributed its strength as well. For they had invited Shanxi's most honored guest.
An elder capable of crushing the spirit of rising stars had arrived.
Through this gathering, he intended to suppress the guest welcomed by the Gongya Family. In this age of famine, the martial world's guiding principle was the survival of the strong over the weak.
He intended to show Geom Un-bi that the Gongya Family was not his only possible patron. If Geom Un-bi refused to cooperate, Gwi Il-tae planned to borrow the elder's hand and have him eliminated.
That was acceptable.
The Gongya Family was orthodox. Even when raising its prestige, it used things like martial arts tournaments instead of sect wars.
It could not help but be swallowed by the Shanxi Noble Family, which had begun bribing even officials amid the famine.
‘How could a nameless man who has rolled around in the dirt endure an elder who learned martial arts in the heavens?’
He did not doubt the elder's martial strength, nor the lowly nature of the wandering martial artist Geom Un-bi.
He thought coolly while preserving his sense of superiority.
As the eldest son of the Gwi Family, which was made up of former generals from the northern front, Gwi Il-tae had lived that way.
He smiled smoothly with his bear-like, strongly lined face.
“Geom. With a surname no one has heard of, it should be easy to build a family around it. I misspoke the other day.”
“That was quite a long speech for a mistake, wasn't it?”
Jeong Yeon-shin, walking behind him, asked in puzzlement before coming to an understanding on his own.
“Ah... I see. A bandit's mistake is when his axe slips and kills a passerby.”
“Hmm...”
Gwi Il-tae could not find a fitting response.
Second Young Master Gongya Su, walking beside them, snickered. As Young Family Head Gongya Jeong did not stop her brother, the group reached the pavilion.
Many people had arrived before them. Among those attending the banquet, there was not one who did not descend from a high-ranking powerful family.
More than ten men and women carrying all kinds of weapons were gathered there.
“Look. So those people were why the Gwi Family's eldest son went out to greet someone.”
“He's doing something he never does, so it must be because of that person. His looks certainly live up to the rumors, but... is it true his martial arts are that impressive too?”
“Quiet. Hero Eon is here. Don't disturb the elder's ears.”
The elaborate banquet tables stirred with subdued commotion.
Yet it did not become loud. Their conversation was closer to hushed whispers.
The young masters and young ladies who had paid no attention to Jeong Yeon-shin at the previous banquet were now maintaining the utmost courtesy.
The reason was easy to guess.
At the place of honor in the wide pavilion sat a woman carelessly, one knee raised to the table.
The distinct muscles running from her deltoids down her arms caught the eye first. The hand loosely holding a wine bottle at the end of those blue-green cords of tendon left a deep impression.
Her callused hand looked rough, while her disheveled hair falling to her shoulders carried not a lustrous sheen but flashing inner energy.
Her sleeveless gray martial robes suited her perfectly.
The moment the woman raised her head, she met Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes.
Both were startled. They had each been suppressing their aura at the realm of Return to Simplicity.
“...First Fist of the Eon Family.”
Jeong Yeon-shin's lips moved.
A supreme fist master who understood the counterforms of the Seom-ye Martial Lineage. The beloved of the absolute master, Zhuge Family Head.
It was Eon Hwa-ryeon, the Fist Exemplar.
‘This has gone wrong.’
The Leader of Demon Wings' senses sharpened dangerously. The First Fist of the Eon Family no longer traveled alone.
It was said that a peerless master of sorcery arts accompanied her, making them an invincible pair. Meeting them here would mean death.
Then.
“You... insane...”
Her brows twisted sharply, and she glared at Gwi Il-tae with terrifying eyes.
Gwi Il-tae, who had been faintly smiling, flinched. In an instant, an overwhelming aura rose from Eon Hwa-ryeon's body.
“Do you have any idea who you've brought here? You insignificant fool! You lunatic!”
Hummm!
The air lurched and warped.
“Fist Exemplar!”
Gwi Il-tae was thrown into a panic and could not steady himself. Eon Hwa-ryeon's wine bottle suddenly tore through the air toward him.
Bang!
It struck his forehead and burst apart. The protective qi surrounding Gwi Il-tae's body burst in a colorless explosion.
A violent counterblast swept in at the same time, shaking even the pavilion's pillars with the force of a thunderclap bomb. As Gwi Il-tae sprawled helplessly, Jeong Yeon-shin looked at Eon Hwa-ryeon.
“Your martial arts have improved.”
He spoke while touching his sword hilt. His tone made it sound as though he were looking down on her.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
