WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 313: Xuanyuan (8)
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One of Shaolin's Four Vajra let out a silly laugh.
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been working out his moves in advance, watched the monk quietly.
‘He is kind to his juniors.’
Gwi Yun-rin and Yu Hyeon had noticed his internal injuries earlier. Master Won Jeok would have grasped his condition with a single glance.
Though Won Jeok had requested a spar with a stern expression, the intensity of the monk's aura was similar to Yeon-shin's. Won Jeok meant to match his inner energy to Yeon-shin's before exchanging moves. It was befitting a monk of deep cultivation.
Yeon-shin had often seen that smile on his maternal grandfather.
He did not know what made a person's facial muscles move that way, but it always gave him an oddly ticklish feeling. It resembled the expression Ma Yeon-jeok occasionally wore when looking at him.
At times, it had made him strangely embarrassed. Yet seeing one of Shaolin's Four Vajra wear that same expression made it clear that he himself had been narrow-minded.
‘Did he put his mind at ease merely from seeing my opening stance, even though I've joined hands with the Heart Martial Union Leader's daughter...?’
He was a true elder monk.
Admiration filled Yeon-shin's eyes.
Jeong Family Manor, like Shaolin, was located in Henan.
Every child in Xinye County grew up hearing of Shaolin's fame.
The Four Vajra of the thousand-year-old temple rooted on Mount Song were like Buddhas who wielded martial arts. Even the word idol could not fully convey what they meant to the children.
Ahem.
Won Jeok suddenly cleared his throat.
“Benefactor, merely looking at you drains the strength from my arms. It would be right to exchange moves only after you have healed both your internal and external injuries. This humble monk was hasty.”
Just as I thought, Yeon-shin murmured inwardly.
‘What a broad-minded man.’
Warmth appeared on the Leader of Demon Wings's face. The old monk of the thousand-year-old Shaolin temple was exactly as Yeon-shin had imagined as a child.
He remembered the elven elder monks said to be close to living Buddhas, and the days when he had watched village children play at Hundred-Step Divine Fist from afar with envy.
He felt a little smug.
‘I have met one in person.’
“The night air is cold. Let us return to the fire.”
Jeong Yeon-shin extended a hand in invitation.
Won Jeok's spar with the Leader of Demon Wings did not take place.
...And so.
The five people seated around the campfire again each wore a different expression.
Yu Hyeon let out a sigh mixed with relief and regret. The demonic attendant Jeon Baek kept his head lowered as he gauged the others' reactions. Gwi Yun-rin suddenly scrubbed the back of her head, then drew her lips inward as though she had fallen into thought.
Only then did Won Jeok return to his senses. The fire crackled loudly as the flames struck the kindling.
‘That is talent that defies heaven.’
The Leader of Demon Wings had truly cultivated dharma power. It was hard to believe, but Won Jeok had to accept it.
Though he had studied Buddhist teachings alongside Gak Jeong, the Young Divine Monk of the Eighteen Arhats, the Leader of Demon Wings had created the dharma power of slaying demons and eradicating heresy in what was barely an instant for an elf.
Then the reverse had to be possible as well.
Their talents were simply on different levels. A Grandmaster who created all manner of things could surely, conversely, produce a force wave that destroyed the energy of Destroy Evil, Reveal Righteousness.
Would even the martial arts of orthodox sects be without weakness?
The boy beyond the campfire, cheerfully tapping one foot to a strange rhythm, was destined to become the nemesis of countless sects.
Countless martial artists would kneel beneath that lightly moving foot.
‘They say the current Leader of Demon Wings is nearly undefeated.’
They said he never lost to an opponent he faced for a second time. That was the rumor Won Jeok had heard in the short time since descending from Mount Song.
It was an issue that would someday become grave. Won Jeok felt that at once. A man who would join hands even with the Heart Martial Union Leader's daughter to achieve his goals possessed talent that defied the ages.
A high-ranking figure of Desolate Fortress, who valued the people's livelihoods while holding the martial world in extreme contempt.
Won Jeok thought of himself as a worthless monk. Before becoming a monk, Won Jeok was a martial artist wandering through delusion, an avenger who honed fists and staff art to stand against the Heavenly Demon when the Heavenly Demon appeared again one day.
And now, Won Jeok faced a grave threat to the martial world. How should he conduct himself?
‘Amitabha.’
Wrinkles formed between the smooth brows beneath the scattered ordination scars.
Then it happened.
“Master, have this.”
The Leader of Demon Wings offered a mushroom roasting over the fire.
“It is a winter oyster mushroom. The flavor is excellent.”
It had been carefully warmed over the flames until it turned golden.
Won Jeok accepted it without thinking and glanced at the Leader of Demon Wings. His bright eyes made him look his age, just as when he spoke with Yu Hyeon, the Mount Hua Hidden Dragon.
It did not strike the eccentric old monk as particularly noteworthy.
The savory scent simply mingled with the Leader of Demon Wings's neat manner. The trouble was that fragments of the dharma power he had revealed earlier seemed to ride the clear breeze along with it.
Won Jeok smiled, feeling strangely fulfilled. Whatever happened, happened.
“Your kindness pleases this humble monk.”
“You seemed to be observing a vow of silence whenever you were with me...”
Yu Hyeon gave a hollow laugh.
“So.”
Gwi Yun-rin, who had quietly watched the entire exchange, parted her lips.
With one arm resting casually on her knee, she looked ready to draw her saber at any time. She never lowered her guard, no matter the situation.
“I don't know what will become of this party, but that friend agreed to strike the Assassins' Sect with me.”
“Can I come too?”
“No.”
“I wasn't asking the Heart Martial Union Leader's child.”
Yu Hyeon looked at his friend from Desolate Fortress.
Gwi Yun-rin glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin and grumbled.
“I am the employer.”
“Do you still want me to accompany you? I have ties to the Nine Sects.”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked. Gwi Yun-rin's eyes flashed.
“What does it matter whether a cow's neck is cut with a knife or a crescent blade? I only need the meat called the Assassins' Sect. With a master like you helping me, it won't matter what variables arise.”
“What if I betray you?”
“I'll have to call it my fate. Still, wouldn't I be more likely to die from a stray poisoned needle fired by some insignificant assassin? I'm good at judging the character of people I've shared a meal with. I trust my eyes more than background or status. You wouldn't turn your sword against me. You are humble, fair, and sincere.”
Madness even flickered across her face.
How had she been raised?
Her ambition to cut off her elder brother's head and become the master of the Heart Martial Union was plain to see. Her spirit was formidable.
Jeong Yeon-shin fell silent.
He had encountered a truly remarkable eye technique. Since every word she spoke was true, he had nothing to say.
“What could someone like you do, anyway? Look at how extraordinary everyone here is.”
Yu Hyeon snorted and took a wooden case from his robes.
“My master told me to give this to you. But judging by your breathing, you can't take it yet. It is a spiritual medicine that affects qi storage in the lower dantian... The acupoints that receive energy must be healthy. Otherwise, it is no different from poison.”
Swish.
He held it out to Jeong Yeon-shin.
A fragrant aroma seeped from the crack in the wooden case, accompanied by faintly numinous energy.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly accepted it.
The wood felt warm, like Yu Hyeon and Yulha Nangnang's kindness.
“Tell her I'm grateful. I only ever receive kindness from the sect leader.”
“She said it was as though you had saved her.”
Yu Hyeon smiled faintly.
“Spiritual medicine? Come to think of it, you mentioned miraculous medicine as the price for your cooperation.”
Gwi Yun-rin stirred the campfire with a roughly carved stick.
“It's a little strange that someone like you has no pills at all, isn't it? You look like a young noble at a glance, carry a fine sword, and possess sword arts lofty enough to have entered the sword-commanding art.”
She said it casually.
Something she could call a great undertaking was about to begin.
Despite having spoken of her discernment earlier, she seemed tense. It was as if she were testing the stones of a bridge over a stream.
“...”
In the silence, Jeong Yeon-shin met her gaze.
Gwi Yun-rin suddenly snorted.
“Even a vicious dragon brings rain to parched land as long as no one touches its reverse scale. They are born bringing rain clouds with them, after all. They say a calamity depends on how people deal with it.”
Jeong Yeon-shin realized that both sides had already guessed the other's identity.
‘Pills...’
Most of the miraculous medicine in his traveling pack had already been consumed.
The aftereffects of the art left behind by the Zhuge Family Head had surpassed the medicine's efficacy. There had been so little improvement that only two pills remained in his pack.
He needed more supplies. That was why he had mentioned miraculous medicine.
“There are circumstances.”
“Mm, that can happen. Forgive my rudeness.”
Tap.
Gwi Yun-rin struck the fire several times with the stick and raised the corner of her mouth.
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded vaguely and lowered his eyes, feeling the emptiness of his robes.
He had also carried a pouch of miraculous pills within them, but it had been completely crushed during the fierce battle.
A peerless master's attack ignored the inner energy barrier around Jeong Yeon-shin as if it were not there.
Allowing even one blow would result in a piercing wound, so it was only natural. The Zhuge Family Head's strikes had been like hell made manifest in this world.
The peerless realm.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt it more sharply than ever. He truly needed a proper Protective Qi Technique.
‘When will I find a decent inner-energy structure? I need to devise one properly...’
Without a divine art, it would be no better than a monkey playing cat's cradle.
It was as if he had been stalled at the invention of materials while making clothes. Armor that would boast defensive strength while aiding, rather than hindering, the movements of his body and energy.
An inner energy barrier innately suited to his body and senses would be the finest Protective Qi Technique.
Silk and hemp would not satisfy him. The protective qi he had acquired from the upper level of the Gold-Piercing Martial Treasury already covered his entire body.
What he needed to achieve alongside sword control was painfully clear.
What inspiration would he gain at the Assassins' Sect, from Master Won Jeok?
“Let us leave before sunrise tomorrow.”
“This humble monk shall also accompany the young benefactor for the time being.”
A strange party was formed. Every kind of interest tangled together in the deepening twilight of the snowbound forest.
* * *
“This is far enough. Stop.”
The thick voice boomed as if it had echoed through a cave.
Three people descended onto the snowy plain. Though the land was pure white, not a single footprint remained.
The Seventh Apostle stepped lightly over the snow with the Body Movement Scripture's attainment of treading snow without leaving a trace. The hem of the red Pure Blood Robe swayed in an especially vivid scarlet, as though reflecting the Seventh Apostle's innermost thoughts.
‘It went well, right?’
The Seventh Apostle glanced at the man wearing a fur coat that reached his feet.
His body was enormous. His height alone was overwhelming, easily more than seven feet.
The back of the Heart Martial Union Leader, Gwi Wi-hu.
The way he gradually released his aura did not seem human.
It was simply in his nature.
He resembled a fortress wall lined with hundreds of cannons.
He did not simply feel impossible to challenge. Even approaching him seemed to demand that one wager one's life. That was how the Seventh Apostle, of all people, perceived him.
‘Should I have escaped somehow?’
‘No. I had to make sure he wasn't plotting anything against Grand Preceptor. This was the best choice.’
In Taiyuan, the Seventh Apostle had been admiring the Grand Preceptor's figure, lovely even in every step. Then the Heart Martial Union Leader suddenly appeared behind the Seventh Apostle. There had not even been a trace of presence, as though he had torn through the air with Walking Upon Empty Space.
It was enough to make the Seventh Apostle jump in fright.
Even more so for the Seventh Apostle, though no sign had been shown.
The badly injured Grand Preceptor could not be allowed to meet the Heart Martial Union Leader.
The lords of major factions were despicable. When they encountered talent they could not possess, they tended to break it apart.
Just as the Blood Flame Sect Master, whom the Seventh Apostle had trampled to death, had once tried to snuff out the young Grand Preceptor's life.
It was a tremendous relief that the Grand Preceptor's aura had weakened. His internal injuries were severe enough that not even a fragment of dharma power could be felt. At a glance, he looked no more than an outstanding young talent.
To the Heart Martial Union Leader of the Thirteen Heavens, he was a gnat.
Whenever the Seventh Apostle thought of that, her face flushed on its own. Yet a breath of relief, unlike her usual self, escaped her.
The Heart Martial Union Leader seemed puzzled by the silent Baek Seo-gun.
Without showing the Seventh Apostle any particular favor, he simply made the two of them lead the way as they moved away from Taiyuan under his uniquely terrifying pressure.
Even when he exchanged a few words on swordsmanship with Baek Seo-gun, he did not speak to the Seventh Apostle.
He forced their route through sheer presence alone, as though he had taken the Blood Flame Sect's peerless prodigy hostage.
The absolute masters of the martial world were eccentrics. No one could understand their way of thinking.
The Seventh Apostle did not care.
Her mind was filled with the Grand Preceptor's safety. It was enough that he had not met the Heart Martial Union Leader, enough that the Heart Martial Union Leader had not discovered him.
That was enough.
The Seventh Apostle thought so while running fingers through the ends of black hair falling beneath scarlet-clad shoulders.
Rustle.
‘How am I supposed to get away now...?’
Just as the Seventh Apostle assumed an intentionally carefree posture, her vision turned white in an instant. It was different from the color of the snowy plain. Before she could even recognize what had happened, a brutal shock struck her. Something had rushed at her with overwhelming speed.
BOOM!
Only after feeling the blow did the thunderous sound erupt. The Seventh Apostle felt a violent gust of wind and clung to consciousness.
She felt blood rise to her lips. The Heart Martial Union Leader had slammed his shoulder into her. It was a supreme body-barging art.
CRUNCH!
Even after digging both feet into the snow, the Seventh Apostle was pushed back a great distance. Two long furrows carved across the pure-white plain. They stretched for hundreds of feet. The Heart Martial Union Leader's figure looked like a dot.
Yet his voice sounded as if he stood right beside them.
“The bats' Body Movement Scripture may be peerless under heaven, but...”
Whoosh!
He had already taken position behind the Seventh Apostle again, his back turned toward them. It was an extremely swift Body Movement Scripture.
It did not feel like mysterious footwork so much as terrifying power crossing distance, yet it was incredibly fast.
“You will find it hard to put those feet where they do not belong from now on, under any circumstances.”
The snowy plain stretching across her vision was blindingly bright.
“Your Mara Roaring Blood Art is an outdated, crude art. The qi diagram has become widely known, so it would be best to abandon any thought of escape.”
It was the sort of thing only the Heart Martial Union Leader could say.
Powerful martial artists had traveled for two days. Though the Heart Martial Union Leader possessed the supreme martial power of an absolute master, he was extraordinarily thorough.
His disposition allowed for no variables. The Mujang Radiance Art he cultivated was said to be the pinnacle of blunt arts that permitted no evasion.
Baek Seo-gun wore a complicated expression in the distance while the Heart Martial Union Leader's interrogation began without hesitation.
“Speak. Why were you watching my daughter?”
“What bullshit are you talking about?”
“Your heartbeat is remarkably calm. I can tell you are speaking the truth.”
The Seventh Apostle instinctively realized that this monster was well versed in handling people.
“Then we move on.”
The absolute voice continued slowly.
“There is Seom-ye of Desolate Fortress, the one who was with my daughter.”
The Seventh Apostle stopped moving.
It felt as though her heart had dropped. The Seventh Apostle deliberately curved her lips into a smooth smile.
‘That's quite a thrill.’
“Is your Heart Martial Union in bed with the Hao Clan?”
“I can guess why a minnow like you treated my Sword Venerable with respect. It is because the Sword Venerable comes from Jeong Family Manor in Xinye County.”
The Heart Martial Union Leader continued.
“I have also heard that you entered the main fortress of Desolate Fortress and called the Tyrant Hero grandfather. It was hard to believe, but before you killed the blood demons in Shanxi, you boasted of it with your own mouth.”
“A lot of them got out alive. They were all like gnats.”
“I know that you hold that brat Seom-ye dear. I am watching him closely as well.”
“Are you afraid I might give teachings to your deficient child? You should check whether your daughter’s neck is still attached. My Grand Preceptor...”
The Seventh Apostle suddenly closed her mouth.
She had sensed something strange.
The king of this martial army, with its sheer numbers, hid a sinister intention. A scheme directly tied to the Grand Preceptor's safety.
“Keep speaking. Tell me everything about Lotus Nezha.”
“...I don't really know anything more.”
Step.
The sound of snow crunching came from behind the Seventh Apostle.
As the Heart Martial Union Leader turned toward the Seventh Apostle, the immense weight he conveyed shook the air.
“I know how fiercely blood demons cling to life. Do you wish to die miserably?”
The words directed at the Blood Flame Sect's highest-ranking Apostle did not sound empty. Her opponent was one of the Lords of the Thirteen Heavens. Anything was possible for him.
He asked from behind her.
“Do you truly have nothing to say?”
“Yeah.”
The smile reddened by blood deepened.
“I don't know.”
Then.
The Seventh Apostle's gaze suddenly turned toward a distant ridge.
“Ah...?”
Her eyes flew wide open. Her shoulders drew sharply inward.
“Grandfather!”
Whoom!
The surface of the snowy plain was gouged into enormous concentric circles.
A wave of inner energy unlike anything before rippled outward. A colorless aura swept over her clothes with a dreadful chill.
Footnotes:
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