WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 371: Grand Contest
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Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his eyes.
‘The Nine Sects?’
The Tang siblings were buried near the mountain peak. Whatever the reason, this was no place to speak of challenge letters.
Then Jeong Yeon-shin sensed Dang Un-hwang’s exhalation silently lengthen at his side.
It was the inner-energy breathing of the Counter-Origin Three Yang Art, which housed three kinds of poison qi within the body. Dang Un-hwang’s exceptional courtesy toward Jeong Yeon-shin aside, the Tang Sect was known to be cold and deeply exclusive by nature.
“The Ami Sect’s sect leader. Benefactor, you now truly stand shoulder to shoulder with the leaders of entire sects.”
Dang Un-hwang spoke with a faint smile on his gaunt face. Jeong Yeon-shin gave a small shake of his head.
Then Jeong Yeon-shin listened.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s five senses were exceptionally sharp.
His innate talent, the Jeong Family Youth Technique, and Marrow Cleansing and Bone Reforging had made that possible.
Jeong Yeon-shin could display a measure of the Thousand-Li Earth-Listening Art, a technique practiced by martial artists in a sect’s pursuit squads.
That was because a trace of Light Wheel qi from the Record of the Dharma Light Wheel constantly formed around his Ermen acupoint.
Jeong Yeon-shin heard whispers below. It was a conversation among the younger generation of the Nine Sects.
“I wondered what you were saying. Your conduct is excessive.”
“Pardon?”
“There are worldly principles even in the Daoist scriptures... Is this because you have trained only in the mountains?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re acting as though no one else matters. It would have been far better to make a quiet request.”
“I was expressing my earnestness. Yet Little Sword Empress, you have done nothing...”
“That’s enough. Don’t speak again.”
With that, the distance between the two sides closed. Soon, Jeong Yeon-shin met the eyes of the three people looking up at him.
Two were familiar. A young Taoist and an elegant Buddhist nun. They were the Red Cloud Dragon of the Qingcheng Sect and the Golden Staff Divine Maiden of the Ami Sect.
At the center stood a woman with an ink-dark treasured sword at her waist. Her crimson silk martial robes, softly pleated, suited her well.
Her jet-black hair fell below her waist, and her entire body radiated a presence as sharply honed and restrained as a blade. She was every bit the chief disciple of the Jeomchang Sect, one of the Nine Sects.
“I greet Tang Family Head, Great Hero Dang, and the Leader of Demon Wings. I am Chwi So-ok of the Jeomchang Sect.”
She raised her clasped hands with measured formality.
Her drooping eyes gave her a gentle impression, but few in the martial world would underestimate Chwi So-ok once they learned who she was.
In Sichuan, where people paid less heed to the imperial court than elsewhere, she was openly called a talent fit to become a lord of the sword.
“This is our first meeting since the Martial Alliance Assembly in Hanzhong, is it not?”
Chwi So-ok asked after lowering her fist-and-palm salute. Jeong Yeon-shin gave a slight nod.
Something about it struck him as odd. He already knew Chwi So-ok, the Little Sword Empress, yet she was behaving far more courteously than when they had first met.
She treated him no differently than she treated the Tang Family Head.
‘She’s young. Has she finally matured?’
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin dismissed it as unimportant, Chwi So-ok suddenly bowed her head.
“I did not come intending to speak of challenge letters while you are in mourning. First, I offer my apologies to the Tang Family. Of course, to the Leader of Demon Wings as well, who must have held the deceased dear...”
“There must be an important reason.”
Dang Un-hwang muttered briefly.
Jeong Yeon-shin sensed no particular force in his voice, but the three younger martial artists from the Nine Sects flinched for an instant.
It was a glimpse of the terrifying martial prowess and reputation of one of the Eight Family Heads.
Only then did the Red Cloud Dragon seem to realize their mistake. Dry sweat gathered at the back of the Taoist’s neck, but the attention of those present had long since moved elsewhere.
“You have business with my benefactor?”
“I would like the Family Head to hear it as well. Naturally, the message from the Ami Sect’s sect leader must be delivered to the Leader of Demon Wings.”
Jeong Yeon-shin inwardly tilted his head.
“You’re quite meddlesome. The nun standing there is also a disciple of the Ami Sect, as far as I know.”
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced at the Golden Staff Divine Maiden, who stood silently behind the Little Sword Empress.
Chwi So-ok’s eyes curved slightly. A thin smile touched them for a moment.
“The Martial Alliance Assembly in Hanzhong died with the late Zhuge Family Head. It has been torn apart for quite some time. I am drawing up a different plan with those I have ties to. It took effort to gain the trust of Qingcheng and Ami. The Successor Beggar of the Beggars’ Sect was a major obstacle, but...”
“I’m not interested.”
Jeong Yeon-shin answered shortly.
As if she had expected that, the Little Sword Empress nodded without changing expression and took a letter from her robes.
It was a document bound with antique silk thread.
“I would also like to take time to pay my respects to the deceased, but Sichuan is in troubled times. Each quarter-hour the two of you let pass is worth a thousand gold to some people.”
The Little Sword Empress continued, looking between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Tang Family Head.
“The Tang Family was not the only one attacked. We have confirmed that, besides the three major factions of the Thirteen Heavens already rooted in Sichuan, another two or three have entered. Counting their sole-successor martial lineages and other smaller sects, there are well over a hundred. All of them are busy sowing chaos.”
“Chaos?”
Jeong Yeon-shin asked.
“The famine has spread even to this basin, so it is obvious what the demonic and unorthodox factions will do. Pillaging is commonplace. They attack nearby rival sects, or side with the Thirteen Heavens and strike orthodox sects. They even treat the nearby commoners as mere shopkeepers they can fleece whenever they please.”
The air of troubled times.
Jeong Yeon-shin had felt it as soon as he left the flood dragon’s formation. There were few places where fighting had not broken out.
Chwi So-ok tapped her palm with the rolled document. It was a gesture touched by emotion.
“Such reports have grown strangely rare lately, but who knows? This may be the calm before some storm.”
She went on to explain how armed groups were competing throughout Sichuan with the support of the Tyrant Sword Sect, Yeoryeong, and another of the Thirteen Heavens.
As the troubled times deepened, even martial artists from outside Sichuan would inevitably be drawn in.
“So I came up with a small but significant plan,” Chwi So-ok said.
“The Leader of Demon Wings, said to be a sword for the people’s livelihood and to possess martial prowess rivaling Laughing Heaven Unrivaled. The Ami Sect’s sect leader, called Maitreya’s incarnation. The two greatest masters among those who have been moderate toward Sichuan’s common people will display their martial prowess before all eyes.”
That was the purpose of the challenge letter.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
“It’s weak.”
“Pardon?”
“Can you write at all?”
If only it were half as good as the Desolate Fortress Divine Hero’s, Jeong Yeon-shin muttered inwardly.
* * *
Mount Emei, Sichuan.
Under sunlight that fell tranquilly across the blue-green mountain range, acrid smoke rose from the summit.
The clarity unique to a famous mountain was fading away.
Only the crackle of ash bursting from dark-red embers rang loudly here and there.
Even the temple deep within the peak lay in ruins. Both its inner and outer compounds had been destroyed.
At the temple entrance, dozens of martial artists armed with swords, staves, spears, and strange weapons made their presence known.
Some stood atop the eaves of the Dharma Hall, while others sat carelessly on the ground, practicing qi circulation and breath regulation.
A man with one arm missing, a woman with crushed ribs, an old man coughing blood... Few among them were uninjured, yet fierce aura flowed from their entire bodies.
They carried the air of consummate hunters.
“Where is the Left Protector?”
“The Left Protector of your honored sect, the Golden-Wing Sect?”
“Who else would I mean? I disliked them from the moment they stood outside the mountain gate with their hands behind their back, yet you seem terribly slow for a Yeoryeong messenger.”
“You asked as though it were obvious. The Tyrant Sword Sect’s Left Protector has recently accomplished a great feat and has been making a name for himself throughout the realm.”
“Don’t speak nonsense. Your Yeoryeong is displeased with this sect’s actions, isn’t it? As though we were your puppets.”
“My apologies if I have offended you.”
“Ha!”
An old man with a large saber strapped to his back snorted. He was Geum Hwi-cheol, the Golden-Wing Sect’s Right Protector, the Helmet-Cleaving Divine Saber.
Before him stood a yellow-clad man with an utterly ordinary face.
Yet rather than meeting the Golden-Wing Sect’s Right Protector’s eyes, the man from Yeoryeong kept looking elsewhere. Only his mouth answered the Right Protector.
Wooooom, wooooom!
Within the half-destroyed inner compound of the Ami Sect, a golden Tathagata statue darted through the air. At times, it spun and danced in place.
It was Remote Object Manipulation, as though someone were handling a toy.
The technique came from a small woman wearing red-gold long robes. The Ami Sect’s treasure danced according to her gaze.
Beneath it, a wooden sign bearing the name Emei lay split in two. From the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s black hair, which reached only to the nape of her neck, the air shimmered faintly.
A sweet scent of wine spread from the jade flask in her hand.
“She got away.”
The Golden-Wing Sect Master muttered, referring to the Ami Sect’s sect leader.
Without looking back, she ordered the man from Yeoryeong holding a sheet of paper.
“Read it.”
“...Yes, yes. I will.”
The man, who had been staring blankly at the Golden-Wing Sect Master, spread the paper open with both hands.
“...The land has long been dry. Plants and trees are withering. Times have changed so greatly that hoes are more precious than swords, yet those who claim to possess high martial arts are busy using them to steal food from the common people.”
“Steal food? Doesn’t this sect have farmland?”
The Golden-Wing Sect Master asked, tilting her head slightly.
The Right Protector, who had been eyeing the Lord of Yeoryeong’s messenger with displeasure, spoke.
“We acquired it around twenty years ago after stripping a landlord family clean. The Prefect of Maho Prefecture altered the land registry, and we split in half the beds on which that family slept at night. It was handled without incident, so it is understandable that you have forgotten, Sect Master.”
“Ah.”
“I shall continue.”
The messenger glanced at the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s pale chin as she lifted it slightly, then lowered his eyes to the letter again.
“Those who wield swords for private ends contribute nothing to the country. Unable to grow grain or pay tribute, they are like monkeys in the wilderness.”
“Monkeys?”
“The same applies to their flailing of limbs under the grand name of martial arts.”
“...”
The man continued reading without pause.
“I, the writer of this letter, am but a far junior when judged by my experience in the martial world. Yet while journeying through it, I have found very little worth learning. This dusty martial world, said to be filled with extraordinary people as numerous as grains of sand, was truly filled with nothing but dust.”
“They speak as though they were one of Desolate Fortress’s Purple Uniforms.”
As the Helmet-Cleaving Divine Saber burst into incredulous laughter, the messenger continued.
“Recently, the demonic Thirteen Heavens have been causing trouble. They committed atrocities against the Sichuan Tang Clan, which faithfully pays tribute, and the Ami Sect, which cares for the people through Buddhist compassion. Yet they still covet reverence and fame.”
“Give it to me.”
Flutter!
At the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s brief command, the paper flew through the air.
Bright sunlight shimmered over the regular script, which looked casually written and carried a bored air.
[...Thus I ask.
What meaning does your existence hold?
Each of you leeches off the people while acting as though you are strong, so your martial arts should at least be exceptional. Otherwise, you will find yourselves deeply ashamed.
Yet martial skill can only be judged through direct comparison, can it not? Therefore, I announce this to the demonic and unorthodox vermin who read this notice.
On the coming full moon, I will hold a martial contest of life-and-death duels.
The sect leaders of Qingcheng and Ami will join me.
You are to climb the highest peak of Meishan in Sichuan. The same goes for the leaders of major factions known to be well informed, including the Ten Perfect Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, and the Golden-Wing Sect.
Desolate Fortress.
The Leader of Demon Wings will see you.]
Footnotes:
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