WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 344: Ranking Battle (5)
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* * *
The vast martial stage, where three Squad Leaders were gradually closing the distance between one another.
It was also where promotion ceremonies were held.
Across from it stood a lavish viewing platform that overlooked the stage. Though its canopy cast a long shadow, the marble's distinctive pale hue remained clear.
The material itself was so precious that it underscored the rank and status of those seated there.
“How do you think this will go?”
Yeo-ui Cheon Ju and the Leader of Demon Wings.
Ak Su-rim sat with her legs crossed, idly moving the toe of her polished leather shoe.
Her gaze, fixed on the three Squad Leaders facing one another below, was full of delight. She looked like a girl who had carelessly left her spear at her feet.
“They put all three together so it would end quickly, but Nethercurrent doesn't seem inclined to move. How sly.”
Un So-yu, the Law Enforcement Squad Leader seated beside her, responded.
“They likely want to observe the Leader of Demon Wings' movements. The Nethercurrent Squad Leader's Body Movement Scripture is considered one of the finest even in Wonpyeong One Sword Hall. No matter how chaotic things became, he never allowed so much as a speck of dust to touch him.”
“So-yeon will be disappointed. So-yeon trained more for actual combat than infiltration.”
The Annihilation Squad Leader and Squad Leader So-yeon had departed on a mission while developing their own versions of Phantom Wing Third Step.
They had been tasked with resolving an incident in Qinghai, between Xinjiang and Sichuan. Their mission was to destroy a martial faction that had turned martial arts into a religion.
Great fog rolled out of Xinjiang. Poor harvests had continued year after year.
In such troubled times, many took advantage of the chaos to deceive the people and make commoners offer up their possessions willingly.
“I preferred So-yeon's footwork. It makes you feel like one of the elven race. The version Annihilation made was too rough.”
“Squad Leader So-yeon did show great interest in Phantom Wing Step. Unlike that Nethercurrent Squad Leader...”
Un So-yu trailed off. She had maintained a straight posture the entire time as she watched the stage below, and she seemed somewhat bothered by Ak Su-rim.
Feeling a guilty twinge, Ak Su-rim turned her gaze elsewhere.
“Why is the Grand Chief Steward acting like that? Anyone would think he'd just returned from the Ice Palace.”
“...I am waiting for Yeo-ui Cheon Ju to draw the Leader of Demon Wings' sword.”
Im Jin-myeong, the Grand Chief Steward, who had been sitting there like a bear, continued slowly.
“That is when we must announce it. I simply cannot believe it right now... Of course, Squad Leader Jeong is not a man who would make false claims, but this is no ordinary matter... The time it would take Nethercurrent Squad martial artists to deliver news from Shanxi to Xiangyang...”
He was nearly rambling. He had not properly heard Ak Su-rim.
He repeatedly rubbed his face with his large hands. The sight was so unlike his usual sharp self that she raised an eyebrow and glanced across the platform.
The eldest legitimate son of the Prince of Commandery, who had come from the prince's estate, was seated there.
Ju Cheol, the Sword Authority Duke. His rigidly straight back lent him a solemn air.
Throughout the meeting that had gathered Desolate Fortress's leadership, he had pressed Wonpyeong One Sword Hall for a decision without lowering his voice. Since Jeong Yeon-shin had crashed through the roof, however, he had restrained himself.
Still, no one let down their guard. No one knew what schemes might lurk behind that foxlike exterior.
“In my view.”
Ju Cheol suddenly spoke.
“This should not be regarded merely as an event to raise morale.”
Ak Su-rim, who had no wish to speak with him, quickly looked away. Yet a scion of princely blood had no need to seek anyone's attention.
Without taking his eyes from Jeong Yeon-shin's profile as he stepped onto the martial stage, Ju Cheol slowly stroked the beard beneath his chin.
Over the past day, Ju Cheol had reviewed every detail of Jeong Yeon-shin's history.
His actual age, the pace at which his martial arts had improved, and the achievements he had accumulated without pause since entering Desolate Fortress.
“As I understand it, the seventeen Black Uniforms are like fortress walls to Desolate Fortress martial artists. Though they may occasionally fall under some barrage, they are immense and the thickest walls beneath heaven...”
Though no one responded, he continued on his own.
“When Seom-ye, the Leader of Demon Wings, first rose to the rank of Squad Leader, I heard there was considerable talk among most martial units outside Demon Wings. The person leading the elite forces of the greatest faction beneath heaven, someone who might be required to execute even high officials and nobles depending on the circumstances, was only a little past the age of fifteen. It was only because of the events at the City of Master Craftsmen in Sichuan and his qualities as a Grandmaster that there was no great uproar.”
Ju Cheol's speech gradually quickened.
As the distance between Yeo-ui Cheon Ju and the Leader of Demon Wings shrank to within five steps, his words reached a pace that only Squad Leaders could follow through lip-speech.
“Then what will happen when that young man removes his Black Uniform? And when he goes further, setting his sights on the position of Divine Sword Squad Leader, which commands every martial unit?”
The most sensitive subject among the seated masters of Wonpyeong One Sword Hall had arisen.
The Purple Uniform rank. It could not help but draw the attention of those seated in the places of honor.
“From the look of it, he will gain a name as a peerless master before he even reaches twenty. Yet someone who has spent less than five years in the fortress becoming the highest-ranking figure of an ancient faction? There is no such case anywhere beneath heaven. It would be even more difficult in a place with traditions as deep as Desolate Fortress. Can the proud swords of the Imperial Court truly accept that young man's martial strength as authority? And what of the Elder Council, more stubborn than the elders of the Nine Sects in their remote mountain valleys? Even the good-natured Elder Council Head has stepped down from his post.”
“...Sword Authority Duke, I would like to know what you mean by this.”
“Ah, Grand Chief Steward. I mean that this is an occasion that can be viewed politically as well. How rare is it for Squad Leaders to hold a martial contest, and for us to witness it directly?”
“...”
“The Grand Chief Steward must have intended this as well. This is an opportunity for Desolate Fortress masters to rank the seventeen Squad Leaders. However much competing solely in the Body Movement Scripture differs from their true martial ability, those watching below will see little difference.”
Several Squad Leaders comparing their martial arts before a crowd.
There were six Black Uniforms here.
It would be difficult to gather so many again in these troubled times. This might even be the last time for nearly a decade.
Not unless an order summoning all seventeen squads of the Divine Sword Corps, something said to have occurred only once since the founding, was issued today.
“Whatever appointments are made among the Black Uniforms in the future, people will speak of this event alongside them. The youngest of Wonpyeong One Sword Hall may shatter the resistance Desolate Fortress martial artists could one day feel. Are not those legs the source of the footwork that has spread throughout this fortress?”
Ju Cheol casually nodded toward the stage.
“I wonder what expressions the high officials and merchant caravan leaders, who attached themselves to the Black Uniform Three Pillars in expectation of favors from the next Divine Sword Squad Leader, will wear.”
By then, the two Squad Leaders whose sleeves had brushed past one another were reflected in his eyes. Not one of Desolate Fortress's high officials seated in the places of honor raised an objection.
* * *
Jeong Yeon-shin and Bukgung A.
A cracking explosion rang out, and the enormous martial stage shook. The stone floor had shattered beneath the steps they had each taken.
Jeong Yeon-shin spun aside, knocking Bukgung A's hand away with his forearm as it reached to pull open his collar.
The instant their black sleeves grazed each other, a shockwave spread as though the air itself had been torn apart.
‘It ends within ten exchanges. No chains of two or more attacks. We may use only the Body Movement Scripture and joint locks to dishevel the other's appearance.’
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the wager with the mission at stake.
They would contend using only their hands and feet, and the result would be decided by the votes of the three Black Uniforms watching above.
Even if someone deliberately delayed their attacks, like the Nethercurrent Squad Leader, their seniors would take that into consideration before deciding.
He did not want to yield, no matter how much he respected his seniors.
‘I have to give it everything.’
It was a gesture of respect toward those who had departed for the Ming Cult's Young Sect Master and had yet to return.
They were fellow disciples beneath the same banner, standing together in the harsh martial world. He also wanted to give Baek Mir-yeo the chance to see the grave of her blood kin.
“As expected, the original is different.”
Bukgung A, who had crossed paths with him, spoke with a faint laugh in her voice.
“There are no limits on direction. It seems you truly use that arrogant mnemonic formula exactly as it says.”
“An arrogant mnemonic formula...?”
Jeong Yeon-shin could not refute her. He did not agree with her at all, but Senior Bukgung, Yeo-ui Cheon Ju, was a noble person who could look upon even the lowliest.
How could he discuss the character of someone who treated everyone as kindly as Confucius and Mencius? He could only swallow his resentment toward himself.
It was the first time since his niece Jeong Hye's harsh words. Greatly shaken, he gave a small nod and turned the Light Wheel in his heart to calm himself.
“...I'll attack again right away.”
“You're different from the rumors. I thought you'd argue at least once.”
Why was he so tame? Bukgung A's brow twitched as she prepared her next move.
“Thank you, Senior Bukgung. You have opened my eyes to my own character.”
As she moved, she thought, He wasn't being sarcastic?
There were almost no fellow Black Uniforms who got along well with Bukgung A.
Even with Xiahou Wi-jin, who was difficult to approach because of his age, Yeo-ui Cheon Ju frequently hurled insults. They might feel the minimum affection due to their shared lineage, but no one could treat her warmly.
Likewise, she did not crave anyone's warmth. As long as the Northern War God still lived, she could not rest easily in body or mind.
What did it matter? Bukgung A soon dismissed the thought.
“I have no interest in that corpse. Let's trade another move.”
As she spoke to the Leader of Demon Wings, whose disposition was difficult to grasp, she motioned to one side with her eyes.
Jeong Yeon-shin followed her gaze. There was another utterly unfamiliar aura there.
The Nethercurrent Squad Leader. A strange man wearing a Black Uniform long robe, his body wrapped all over in ash-gray bandages. His solid yet sleek build suggested only that he was male.
He merely stood there, motionless and silent.
Jeong Yeon-shin gave the Nethercurrent Squad Leader a silent bow, then looked away again. Bukgung A was approaching with the corner of her mouth lifted.
She moved while strangely parting the intangible aura Jeong Yeon-shin had spread through Phantom Wing Step. She seemed to have grasped much from their first exchange.
Pale ripples of martial power spread in broad circles around her feet.
Woom. Woom.
The resonance of inner energy was fierce. Her steps continued as she prepared for one decisive stride.
She would sharply change direction before him, using Phantom Wing Step to unravel the Force Projection he had produced from an unexpected angle.
Then she would use a joint lock to pull apart his collar or draw his sword.
Even so, Jeong Yeon-shin, known for wielding both Hand Arts and sword arts, could not leave his sword behind without disregarding appearances.
Even if Bukgung A, an expert in fists and kicks, wore no weapon.
‘Her footwork is limited to six directions... but she has spread aura in advance to strengthen the driving force waves.’
Jeong Yeon-shin thought.
He had seen a similar martial principle before. It was a method that had recently become a subject of contemplation for him. It bore a startling resemblance to the Moyong Family Head's sword domain.
‘Senior Bukgung uses space as well. I heard she is aiming for the next Purple Uniform rank.’
Streams of wind extending from Bukgung A's long legs occupied six directions, surging like waves.
The pressure was terrifying. It was as though small, translucent dragons were spreading their wings. Her arrogant intent declared that there was no need to use every part of the space.
To Jeong Yeon-shin, it seemed exceedingly considerate.
There truly were only six directions.
“...?”
Bukgung A flinched as she sensed boundless respect in her junior's gaze through the upper dantian. Jeong Yeon-shin concentrated Light Wheel qi into the Yongquan acupoint in the sole of his foot.
The stream of power running down through his thigh muscles felt hot.
Today, he had to show that he surpassed every Black Uniform here. His seniors' shining attainments would not be diminished regardless of the result.
Once more, he slowly stepped forward.
Boom!
True Step.
Cracks spread in every direction, and stones large and small shot into the air. In that brief instant, the driving force supplied from his heel to his calf was stronger than before.
His meridians had lengthened like divine swords along with his limbs. The power accumulated in his acupoints swirled with strength incomparable to the past.
A heavy recoil met his outstretched hand as he leaned slightly forward. A violent gale poured forth as though the air were screaming. Bukgung A, who had reached him in a single step and filled his vision, raised the corner of her mouth.
Her expression said she had expected this much. At the same time, pale force-wave currents rising at her feet swept up Jeong Yeon-shin's forelock.
Whoosh!
The black lapel of Bukgung A's robe swept away in an instant. Only her black hair, tied back in a single strand, brushed against her pale chin as she withdrew.
The moment she came within arm's reach, she had leaned backward. Her other leg rose with the air-rending sound of a thunderclap bomb.
An immensely fierce course of Leg Arts struck toward Jeong Yeon-shin's extended hand.
Bang!
A shockwave spread with her brilliant aerial flip. The martial-power ripple was so great that the surroundings turned hazy for an instant.
The aftermath was powerful enough to make one believe the Black Uniform Three Pillars had clashed. Yet the streams of wind occupying Bukgung A's six directions did not fade in the slightest.
Yet the streams of wind occupying Bukgung A's six directions did not fade in the slightest. The currents bolstering her steps seemed engraved into space itself. It was a realm of will and sensation.
Bukgung A landed as she folded the leg that had collided with Jeong Yeon-shin's hand, then immediately leaped again.
The streams of wind around her surged wildly.
The meaning of her movements was clear.
The martial-power waves lodged in six directions layered driving force onto Bukgung A's body as it faithfully followed that route. With that increased speed, she bound her opponent's movements.
Whoosh!
She blurred before Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes, then appeared at his side as though she had used a ground-shrinking art.
A linked sequence of Phantom Wing Third Step and Phantom Wing Fourth Step. Every movement had been minutely divided, manifesting the principles of Spinning Thread Force, True Step, fist qi, and One-Inch Strike through her limbs and the Mingmen acupoint in her lower back.
A crescent-shaped force wave she generated exploded around Jeong Yeon-shin, who had seen through every one of those principles.
It was a martial principle of the highest level.
Even the martial-power waves lodged between Jeong Yeon-shin's heel and the ground shattered.
The sound was like an entire stack of paper being torn apart.
She had deprived him of even the chance to properly employ his footwork. Bukgung A, at the peak of Three Flowers Gather at the Crown, had created an instant thunder prison.
No visible counterattack followed.
Not until she seized and drew her junior's sword in an instant.
Shing.
Sunlight flowed down the blade like starlight.
An especially brilliant white light. A sword blade that looked as though a nebula scattered across the night sky had been carved into it was reflected in Bukgung A's eyes. It was an object she could not fail to recognize.
The Meteor Sword of the Moyong Family Head, the Star Radiance Great Sword Lord.
Bukgung A's eyes widened, but she could not revel in victory. Those seated in the places of honor above the martial stage, as well as the Blue Uniform and White Uniform martial artists below, made no sound either.
Rustle.
The tie came undone, and Bukgung A's hair fell like ebony.
The hem of the black long robe that had wrapped her upper body also lay at the Leader of Demon Wings' feet, held in his hand like armor shattered on a northern battlefield.
Phantom Wing Fifth Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin had opened time.
Footnotes:
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