WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Chapter 31: Genius (3)
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Cheers erupted from afar.
Even masters trained in the Nine Sects, who were usually composed and mindful of propriety, joined in.
Most were young martial artists who had formed ties with Yeon-shin.
They seemed to be the ones who had seen him protect Hye-ah.
"Your epithet is Seom-ye, isn't it? It suits you perfectly."
"The Radiant Sword Flow. Just as I heard."
"What a profound and splendid sword technique. And powerful, too."
"If it is Wei Mu-hyeok, the Tyrant Sword Sect must have raised him as a promising young talent on whom they had staked their rise and fall..."
A decisive battle lay before them. Even their masters and elders allowed the cheering young martial artists to continue.
As morale rose without end, Yeon-shin focused directly ahead.
‘Tyrant Sword Sect.’
The other side was entirely different. A low murmur spread.
It was not a great commotion, but they could not hide their bewilderment.
The sect master's disciple had lost his head in two exchanges. Worse, his opponent was the same age.
"This cannot be."
"How could Mu-hyeok fail to resist at all..."
"Kill them all."
The final words came from the Tyrant Sword Sect Master.
His voice, which would not tolerate a decline in morale, swept across the Guanzhong Plains. Immense qi underlay it.
"Yeon-shin! Come back!"
Hyeon Won-chang must have been desperate to call out his name as though they were friends.
Yeon-shin met the Tyrant Sword Sect Master's eyes. The man remained motionless, his sword embedded in the ground.
He seemed unmoved by his disciple's death. Yeon-shin deliberately formed the words with his lips.
‘I will take one of your arms. No matter what it takes.’
How absurdly reckless. Yeon-shin knew it as well. To the Tyrant Sword Sect Master, it could only seem amusing.
For the first time, a faint smile formed on the Tyrant Sword Sect Master's face. He even gave a quiet chuckle.
At the same time, a military-like tremor spread from the Tyrant Sword Sect's ranks.
Yeon-shin's Radiant Sword Flow had ignited a war between sects.
The Zhongnan Sect rose and charged forward like clouds, as though to protect their vanguard.
"Ahhhh!"
Among those folding space with extraordinary lightness skills, some shouted as they advanced.
Qi-infused voices echoed in every direction. The plains felt like a canyon.
Amid the chaotic auras, Yeon-shin tried to regain his senses.
‘So this is a group battle among masters.’
He retreated without taking his eyes off the Tyrant Sword Sect. The distance seemed as if it would vanish in an instant.
At the forefront stood a master who shook the ground with immense force.
An elegant beard fluttered around a grand figure, and even the aura around him was tyrannical.
‘This isn't ordinary.’
It was obvious at a glance that he was an elder-level master.
He was one of the Tyrant Sword Sect's finest talents, a man who had cultivated advanced martial arts for decades.
He was a martial artist Yeon-shin could not yet handle.
"I will kill you!"
He seemed to be Wei Mu-hyeok's grandfather. Light blazed in his wide-open eyes.
As a master of the unorthodox sects, he would not hold back simply because Yeon-shin was young.
"If you had taught him properly, it would not have ended in two exchanges."
"How dare you!"
Yeon-shin's words were a flame set to a fire bomb's fuse. Immense killing intent bore down on him.
That was enough. He had provoked the elder deliberately to focus the elder's attention on him.
‘This is a battlefield now. Any tactic is acceptable.’
He turned his body aside to make space. The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan flew past behind him, brushing his robes.
"Thanks to you, I have secured twenty percent of this battle."
"Keuh!"
With the Sword Immortal's words, the Tyrant Sword Sect elder flew backward.
An enormous force wave erupting from the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan's palm swept through every direction.
The brutal collision marked the start of the sect war. At last, the Tyrant Sword Sect and the Zhongnan Sect had begun their great battle.
Yeon-shin's eyes swept the front, left, and right. To earn merits from this point on, he needed to find enemies he could handle.
‘There are many.’
Fortunately, many young masters were unable to restrain their hot blood and rushed forward.
Yeon-shin immediately kicked off toward the flank.
"You bastard!"
Having already attracted tremendous attention, he was a primary target of the Tyrant Sword Sect.
There were more than one or two enemies charging at him with swords drawn.
‘I can handle this.’
They were all young. That was only natural.
The other elder-level and mid-ranking masters seemed to have sensed each other's auras and collided among themselves.
If even one slipped through, the disciples could be massacred.
Whoosh!
As he circulated the qi of the Jeong Family Youth Technique, a fairly powerful aura rose.
Yeon-shin's robes fluttered as though proving his unceasing growth.
Today, he had not worn the martial robes of Desolate Fortress because he was participating as a guest of the Zhongnan Sect.
If there were a second battle, he would wear them then.
The first enemy to strike wielded a spear.
The energy gathered at its spearhead contained Spinning Thread Force. The Mantis Sect martial artist Yeon-shin had encountered before was in a completely different league.
Clang!
The rotational force wave around the spearhead was severed by the Desolate Sword's strike.
The instant confusion appeared in the enemy's eyes, the dim light of the Radiant Sword Flow swept across their neck.
‘Two.’
Once he immersed himself in the battlefield, Yeon-shin no longer viewed his enemies as people.
Merits were counted in numbers. If he was bound by ethics and compassion, he could not survive here.
Clang! Splat!
Amid the rushing duststorm, white sword light flashed everywhere.
His upper dantian, emitting intangible light from the crown of his head, allowed no blind spots.
Even when a swift sword came from behind, he immediately deflected it and cut the enemy's neck.
It felt as though he could survey every direction in the surrounding space. The senses he had acquired from the Mantis Sect greatly aided him in the group battle.
"Coordinate your attacks! Don't rush in carelessly!"
"Even his footwork is extraordinary! Watch his legs properly!"
The Tyrant Sword Sect disciples eventually faced him with a coordinated attack. The harmony between the Phantom Wing Step and the Radiant Sword Flow was tremendous.
Demon Wings Seom-ye was gradually becoming a complete martial artist as he mastered one unique martial art after another.
With Hyeon Won-chang covering his back and supporting him, Yeon-shin's record among the Zhongnan Sect's young disciples was overwhelmingly outstanding.
The Desolate Sword did not stop spilling blood until the great battle between the two sects reached a lull.
* * *
The first major battle was a victory for the Zhongnan Sect. They said that taking the initiative at the beginning had made a great difference.
Yeon-shin had become a famous figure on Mount Zhongnan. Every martial artist of the Zhongnan Sect treated him favorably and with respect.
"I have some grain liquor hidden from my master and senior martial uncles. Would you like a drink?"
"So many sparring matches have piled up? I am late, then."
"The junior martial sisters of the Poetry Pavilion seemed interested in you, young hero, but I firmly turned them down. Shouldn't our discussion of swords come first? Hahaha!"
It was exhausting merely to respond. Yeon-shin walked along a path, recalling his conversation with Ye Yil-sin.
She had said that if he wished, she could tell him even now why Jeong Family Manor had been annihilated.
She had also told him that his second brother already knew.
There was a reason Jeong Joong-san had not told his younger brother, and Ye Yil-sin herself had hesitated to bring it up.
It would be better to hear it after the great battle was settled.
‘It probably won't be much of a shock.’
He thought it was a needless concern.
He was desperately running to escape his approaching death, but those who did not know treated him as a child.
His enemies had done the same. Still, he was glad that he had easily killed a formidable opponent like the Blood Master and earned merit.
"Just in case."
He gave voice to his thoughts.
He decided not to create anything that might keep him from concentrating on battles decided in an instant.
His focus had shifted away from the annihilation Jeong Family Manor had already suffered and toward his future revenge.
They said that mental demons came without warning. It would be enough to hear about it when he left Mount Zhongnan.
"Young Hero Jeong!"
Hyeon Won-chang waved from afar. Yeon-shin approached with a faint smile.
"Do you also have connections with the Zhongnan Sect's mid-ranking masters?"
"Is something the matter?"
"Two masters renowned in Xi'an have come looking for you. They asked whether you would like to cultivate together. They said they knew an interesting training method."
The martial artists who had come with Ye Yil-sin from Jeong Family Manor came to mind.
They had nodded as though it were only natural when she proposed that Yeon-shin enter the Zhongnan Sect.
They were masters who had even helped recover the bodies at Jeong Family Manor. He had glimpsed them during the first great battle.
"Are their epithets Shearing Cliff Sword and Tranquil Fist?"
"Huh, young hero, your reputation is considerable. You will not die an untimely death in some remote wilderness. The Sword Immortal seemed to regard you as a grandson, and even the Mount Hua Sword Absolute spoke of making you a guest of Mount Hua Sect..."
Hyeon Won-chang spoke with an envious expression.
Come to think of it, this venture into the martial world was very different from his first.
He had formed many ties with masters of the Nine Sects, people ordinary folk could scarcely catch sight of.
"It has been a long time since I saw them."
Yeon-shin took a leisurely step.
White clouds, gleaming in the sunlight, drifted gently closer.
That was how it remained until the second great battle began.
* * *
It was three days later. The Tyrant Sword Sect, whom they met again on the Guanzhong Plains, had come out for blood.
It was apparent from their formation alone.
Even for an unorthodox sect, there were so many martial artists that their expressions were impossible to make out.
"This will not be easy. Every one of the Elder Council's few old masters has come out."
The Sword Immortal of Zhongnan spoke gravely. Gu Yang-cheon slowly nodded.
"If we win here, it will be over."
"Myo-hwa, take good care of the disciples."
"Yes, Elder."
Weiji Myo-hwa, who answered calmly, looked different from before.
Her pale face looked radiant.
It was as if she had cast off the worries that had weighed on her. Strength surged throughout her entire body.
It was an upright aura, burning fiercely.
Yeon-shin, who stood with them because of his great merits, met her eyes.
Weiji Myo-hwa's lips curved upward.
"I wish you good fortune in battle, Young Hero Jeong."
"May the Sword Dragon remain safe as well."
Yeon-shin answered calmly and turned away.
This was no time to worry about a master whose martial prowess surpassed his own.
At that moment, the Sword Immortal of Zhongnan rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Beware of the Fierce Asura Sword. He is the grandfather of Wei Mu-hyeok, whom you killed."
"The Tyrant Sword Sect elder from the last battle?"
"Yes. I could not finish him off before I had to face the Elder Council Head. His stance soon crumbled, but even while receiving my sword, he seemed to be keeping an eye on you."
"They say his martial seniority exceeds that of the Tyrant Sword Sect Master, but on the battlefield, he acts as the sect master's hands and feet. They commonly call him his right arm."
Weiji Myo-hwa added with a worried expression.
"Thank you for your concern."
As Yeon-shin nodded, the second great battle began.
This time, there was no vanguard battle. The Tyrant Sword Sect raced forward with lightness skills, as though they would stop at nothing.
A war that staked a sect's survival was nothing like the romance of the martial world that idle spectators spoke of.
A battle for profit, honor, and survival compressed the martial artists' perception of time and space in an instant.
Clang! Boom!
"Poetry Pavilion, gather! Form a sword formation here!"
"Aaagh!"
Before he knew it, Yeon-shin found himself in the heart of the fierce battle, unleashing the Radiant Sword Flow.
The smell of blood had become familiar. How many had he cut down amid the auras of masters raging in every direction?
"There is no need for words!"
An old man approached, radiating immense pressure even though his clothes had been reduced to rags, as though he had fought through the melee.
The Sword Immortal's advice had been right. The Tyrant Sword Sect elder, the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword, approached with glaring eyes.
"Are all unorthodox sects like this? You know no shame."
"I will carve you into strips."
Yeon-shin instinctively knew that in a chaotic battle, there was no more effective means than provocation.
Though an elder of the Thirteen Heavens must have possessed vast experience in the martial world, he strode forward like a lion approaching its prey, seemingly intoxicated with his own martial prowess.
The elder's attention had narrowed completely.
Yeon-shin sensed Hyeon Won-chang and Zhongnan Sect masters rushing in from both sides as though to aid him.
He raised all his inner energy to its limit.
Clang!
The sword force Yeon-shin barely deflected was tremendous. The ground that the sword tip had not even touched caved in with a boom.
As though the techniques of a great sect elder could never be interrupted, the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword continued to launch palm strikes.
Using the Phantom Wing Step, Yeon-shin slipped past while deliberately offering his flank.
"This brat?"
Bang!
The moment the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword's brow twitched, Yeon-shin's body, struck by the palm, was flung far away.
Immense force exploded from the obliques by his ribs.
Though it was not even an internal heavy-hand technique, he could not muster strength for a moment.
Yeon-shin's eyes widened.
‘Jeong Family Youth Technique!’
His slightly activated middle dantian supplemented his inner energy.
The peerless qi of the Jeong Family Youth Technique rose through the shock.
It instantly dispersed the force wave that seemed ready to spread through his entire body and restored his body.
In the meantime, Weiji Myo-hwa, Tranquil Fist, and Shearing Cliff Sword blocked the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword.
Yeon-shin's eyes took in the four masters of the highest tier clashing with one another.
At that instant, his upper dantian flared, beginning to etch every technique of the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword into his mind.
‘He is enraged. He is easy to read.’
The way he held his sword and how his muscles moved when he loaded sword force imprinted themselves clearly in Yeon-shin's eyes.
He did not stop there. He dissected every principle behind them.
Even the direction of his steps and the smallest habits in his movements when using Force Projection.
By the fiftieth move, the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword, who had seemed to be losing ground, used a mutual-destruction move.
He gave his left arm to Weiji Myo-hwa's sword, then immediately struck her abdomen.
Tranquil Fist and Shearing Cliff Sword were also struck by a sword strike delivered with his right hand and fell.
The old man was in ruins. He had become a one-armed swordsman, and dark red blood stained his mouth. His internal injuries seemed severe.
Even so, the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword was a renowned elder of the Tyrant Sword Sect.
"Haaap!"
Hyeon Won-chang rushed in, only to be thrown aside miserably. What had irritated the elder?
His sword surged forward with True Step, just before it could sever Hyeon Won-chang's neck.
Yeon-shin was already standing at the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword's side.
"I have been waiting!"
A murderous smile hung on the old man's lips. His sword momentum changed abruptly.
A terrifyingly swift sword unfolded from his wrinkled hand.
The diagonal upward sword strike reached Yeon-shin's torso.
‘I can sense it.’
This was not a sword he could see through with the attainment of his eye technique. This was the realm of foresight.
The crown of his head seemed to blaze white-hot. It was as though the sun had fallen into his mind, and scorching energy exploded within his upper dantian.
He factored in every technique of the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword that he had seen so far. He entrusted everything to his talent and heaven-sent luck.
Just one move. At this instant, from this posture, he believed that the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword's move would not differ from what he had anticipated.
He had already drawn the sword path to shatter it.
The Desolate Sword in his hand thrust forward as though it were coiling.
It was a move that martial artists called the Sword of Destruction.
The sunlight pouring down brilliantly was distorted upon the sword blade, and the white trajectory flowed aside the Rakshasa's sword like water before passing through the astonished old man's neck.
Splash!
"......"
Amid the battlefield where every kind of energy and wind raged, only the place where Yeon-shin stood was quiet.
He fixed his gaze on the Tyrant Sword Sect Master, who was locked in fierce combat with the Sword Master of the Western Heavens, Gu Yang-cheon.
He had heard that Gu Yang-cheon had been at a half-move disadvantage, but it was different now. The Tyrant Sword Sect Master was clearly watching this way.
Gripping the corpse by its hair, Yeon-shin stared at the Tyrant Sword Sect Master, whose face showed bewilderment for the first time.
"Tyrant Sword Sect Master. I told you I would take one of your arms."
He raised the Eight-Fiend Rakshasa Sword's head high and infused his voice with qi.
The masters of both sects turned to look this way. Their movements stopped one by one.
Yeon-shin asked calmly.
"Does this, too, count as one of your arms?"
Footnotes:
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