WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 372: Grand Contest (2)
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A notice reportedly posted throughout the provincial capital.
It announced a martial Grand Contest unlike any seen in recent years, calling peerless masters to gather.
Who could refuse?
It was enough to shake the twelve prefectures and seven subprefectures that made up vast Sichuan to their core.
It was a declaration of war that continued to spread, throwing not only Sichuan but even the lands beyond it into turmoil.
Rustle.
The letter that flew over lodged between the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s snow-white index and middle fingers.
At the same time, the Buddha statue that had been bouncing and spinning wildly in the air across from her suddenly fell with a thud, as though the invisible hand gripping it had vanished.
“One-on-one? Or a winner-stays-on format...?”
She murmured in a soft voice. Her voice rose slightly at the end of each question. She seemed to have lost interest in the statue she had been playing with.
A thick scent of wine spread from the jade flask in her other hand because, for a brief moment, a cloudlike haze of energy rose from her body.
The Golden-Wing Sect members around her flinched one after another.
“The Leader of Demon Wings... Arrogant. Truly arrogant.”
The Helmet-Cleaving Divine Saber, Geum Hwi-cheol, drove the large saber in his reverse grip into the ground.
Blue light flashed and vanished in streaks along the veins of his thick arms, impressive despite his age. It was inner energy given form through overwhelming power.
“Absurd. He must not know what he has done.”
The old man muttered as if chewing the words and spitting them out. In the brief moment it took for the letter to reach the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s hand, he had read every line.
The man from Yeoryeong had been blankly staring at the Golden-Wing Sect Master beneath the glittering sunlight when he suddenly came to his senses.
The old man’s harsh outburst had startled him.
The man cursed inwardly.
‘Ignorant old fool.’
The Helmet-Cleaving Divine Saber, Geum Hwi-cheol.
He was a Grandmaster of saber arts capable of founding a sect on his own. Within the Golden-Wing Sect, he was famed as a supreme master capable of withstanding more of the Sect Master’s moves than anyone else.
He was unlike the Dragon Spirit Divine Fist, who had been bewitched by the Sect Master’s beauty and willingly acted as her attendant.
Geum Hwi-cheol wielded enormous influence within the Golden-Wing Sect. He even led the sect’s spiritual-beast hunts, including dragon-catching expeditions.
He was also the one who ordered enemy sects to be ruthlessly crushed in sect wars.
A few days ago, when the Golden-Wing Sect had burned the Ami Sect and remained there until today, he had rendered the greatest service.
“He already bears karma that cannot be washed away, yet he is holding a rite and begging to be killed. He is nothing more than a subordinate of the Divine Sword Squad Leader.”
Geum Hwi-cheol muttered.
It was unclear whom he was speaking to, but the man from Yeoryeong had to respond. For various reasons, it was difficult to speak directly with the Golden-Wing Sect Master.
The man cut in bluntly.
“A Black Uniform of Desolate Fortress is not someone of low standing anywhere. I heard that even the Ten Perfect Sect Master and the Pure Demon Alliance Leader withdrew recently because they were wary of clashing with the Leader of Demon Wings...”
“There must have been circumstances we cannot easily judge.”
“Of course.”
“He is not Purple Uniform. There is no need to indulge such a trifling tune. A child who does not even know his place dares summon the Sect Master...”
Strength filled Geum Hwi-cheol’s fist around the saber hilt. Glancing at him, the man mentally shook his head. This would not do.
“This has already drawn the attention of the entire martial world. In merchant circles, where rumors travel fast, they have even named it the Martial God Grand War.”
“The Martial God Grand War?”
Geum Hwi-cheol asked. The man slowly nodded.
“A martial contest where peerless masters of high standing fight life-and-death duels. The stage has been set quite naturally. It is extremely rare for the leaders of major factions to rise from their seats in person.”
“The Sect Master is not some street performer.”
Geum Hwi-cheol muttered as though the matter was beneath consideration. The man frowned and spoke again, his expression grave.
“It may be far better for the Golden-Wing Sect Master to attend. That is what I wished to say.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Something very strange is happening. The forces of the Ten Perfect Sect, the Golden-Wing Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, the Tyrant Sword Sect, part of our Yeoryeong forces, and even so many subordinate sects have been disappearing sporadically. We should have long since wiped out Sichuan’s orthodox martial sects and the four Divine Sword Corps units.”
“Hmm.”
“If Qingcheng and Ami’s sect leaders, along with Desolate Fortress’s Leader of Demon Wings, can be killed in one place... we must attend. He has openly declared it a martial contest system, so it cannot be a trap. They will not have the leeway to devise some scheme beforehand, either.”
The Qingcheng Sect had already lost a sect leader once to the Tyrant Sword Sect Master.
The Tang Sect would be busy enough recovering from the damage inflicted by the Ten Perfect Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance. There could not be more than a handful of poison and hidden weapons left.
The Ami Sect was in an even worse state. Its sect leader had been defeated by the Golden-Wing Sect Master while returning to the main mountain after a long journey, and even Mount Emei, famed for the dharma treasures buried throughout it, had been taken.
The Leader of Demon Wings went without saying. Desolate Fortress’s Divine Sword Corps would never unite.
‘The Heaven-Treading Forest Squad and the Immortal Wood Spirit Squad should have been in the Flood Dragon Formation. They are the problem...’
There were certainly variables. Still, they could not compare to the Ten Perfect Sect, the Pure Demon Alliance, and the Golden-Wing Sect, whose leaders remained intact.
That was even more true now, with countless subordinate sects and support from the Tyrant Sword Sect and Yeoryeong.
‘He intends to strike at the heads of the Thirteen Heavens with a mere martial contest system?’
The man from Yeoryeong wore an inscrutable expression.
‘They seem to be seeking to turn the situation around, but the Heaven-Governing Dragon-Slaying Art is no martial art for humans.’
His gaze settled on the Golden-Wing Sect Master. She was tracing the Leader of Demon Wings’ words with the tips of her slender fingers.
Her hair, flowing like ebony beneath her small ears, swayed faintly with her movements.
Her bearing was utterly unassuming, yet somehow she resembled a phoenix in human form.
“Hwi-cheol.”
“Yes, Sect Master.”
“Yeon-shin, was it? I’ll go see him.”
“...I shall obey your will.”
The Helmet-Cleaving Divine Saber, Geum Hwi-cheol, answered in an aged voice.
He lowered his head slightly. The authority he wielded came from the Golden-Wing Sect Master’s lack of interest in matters outside the sect.
The man from Yeoryeong wondered inwardly how Sichuan’s orthodox sects would be wiped out.
Similar scenes were likely unfolding in the Ten Perfect Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance.
The Leader of Demon Wings’ challenge letter described martial artists as useless mouths to feed. Those concerned with honor could not refuse it. It was exceedingly calculating.
‘If he wrote it that way, even the orthodox sects will not look kindly on him... He must have considered the benefit of properly holding the martial contest system to be greater.’
Someone still short of twenty could not truly possess such arrogance, so the man could imagine how much effort had gone into every character.
A mind that should have come to Yeoryeong. The man swallowed his regret.
* * *
The notice Jeong Yeon-shin had put out was being delivered to every sect.
That was so despite the Beggars’ Sect, Yeoryeong, and other factions skilled at spreading and exaggerating rumors holding no goodwill toward the Leader of Demon Wings.
The Tang martial nobility, which had ruled Sichuan’s martial world for generations, had helped greatly.
“It really is fortunate. Whether it comes to spending money or moving people, the Tang Sect alone is more capable than all of our sect’s lay-affiliated families combined.”
“Right.”
A man and a woman walked through a garden overflowing with rare flowers and plants in every color.
They were Chwi So-ok, the Little Sword Empress, and Jeong Yeon-shin, the Leader of Demon Wings. Behind them, a young man in white martial robes followed Jeong Yeon-shin with careful steps, like an attendant.
It was So Il-su, the White Uniform martial artist who had nearly been killed by the Pure Demon Alliance Leader earlier.
“Even though the Tang Sect said they would assign you an attendant, he insisted on it... I have never seen an elite martial artist of White Uniform rank from Desolate Fortress attend to someone else.”
Chwi So-ok said after glancing at So Il-su.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly nodded.
“It is something to be grateful for.”
“I asked for it because I wanted to! Branch martial artists scattered throughout the land like me are bound to have at least one of the seventeen Black Uniforms as an idol!”
So Il-su shouted with a smile.
Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly aside so neither of them would see his embarrassed expression. An idol, really.
Then,
“Cute.”
It was within the realm of sorcery arts.
A smooth laugh seemed to rise from the shadow beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of a growling stomach.
It was mysterious, yet utterly insignificant.
Jeong Yeon-shin had known hunger.
He had been around seven when he heard that his father personally read his older brothers entertaining tales such as the Classic of Mountains and Seas and the Great Ming Compendium.
After pestering his father to tell him stories about his mother, he had been shut away for four days. A child of a martial family should not throw tantrums.
Still, he had gained something small.
That was when he understood the principle of emptiness within the mnemonic formula of the Jeong Family Youth Technique, which he had already been creating.
‘Empty yourself to contain more. You already know that.’
The Seventh Apostle was no less capable than the seven-year-old Jeong Yeon-shin. Their comprehension and aptitude were closer to a human’s than to a beast’s, so there was no reason for them to remain hungry as he had that day.
Jeong Yeon-shin considered it. If he cut his finger and let a drop of blood fall, would they emerge at once?
He could still vividly recall the cool touch of the Seventh Apostle’s fangs as they buried their head into his nape.
“Young Master Jeong... Young Master Jeong?”
“Hmm?”
“We are here. It is the first room as soon as you turn the corner.”
Chwi So-ok said.
When he looked up, he saw a building topped with blue-green tiles. It had an antique, classically elegant appearance. They had arrived at the detached residence the Tang Sect provided for honored guests.
It had taken some time to reach it. Jeong Yeon-shin was currently staying in the inner residence used by the Tang Family’s direct descendants.
His eyes settled on the quiet building.
‘Thunderclap Guanyin is inside...?’
That was the Ami Sect leader’s epithet. Her dharma name was Baek Yak.
After receiving word last night, Jeong Yeon-shin had gone to greet Xiahou Wi-jin and Cheon So-so. While he was catching up with the two seniors, Baek Yak had entered the Tang Sect with Ami’s masters.
He had heard that the Golden-Wing Sect had overwhelmed them without difficulty. He had also heard that the sect leader had personally asked the Tang Family Head to arrange a meeting with the Leader of Demon Wings.
‘Does she wish to decide the order of the matches?’
He thought as he walked.
As the youngest son of a great landholding family, Jeong Yeon-shin had remained close to ordinary, decent common folk.
It was because he had played alone with the family martial art, which would have remained third-rate even if someone had taught it to him properly. Like ordinary people, he respected monks and Taoists.
If she was the Ami Sect leader, she would be on familiar speaking terms even with Shaolin’s abbot. Her standing was truly lofty. Regardless of her martial skill, she deserved respect.
“Young Master Jeong.”
“Hmm?”
“May I say a few things before you go inside?”
“...Go on.”
Lost in thought, Jeong Yeon-shin had almost told her to spit it out. It was because of the sharp aura from Chwi So-ok, who could not conceal the fluctuations of her inner power.
Lately, he had encountered too many uncouth martial artists.
‘Martial-world people are no good.’
He set aside his thoughts with a renewed vow to guard against becoming stained by bad company.
He was about to meet an eminent nun deeply versed in Buddhist teachings. His heart raced.
Wooooom.
An invisible wave of qi suddenly enclosed Jeong Yeon-shin and Chwi So-ok. It was an aura barrier that originated from Chwi So-ok’s body.
When Jeong Yeon-shin looked at her in confusion, she parted her lips as if making an excuse.
“I thought there might be an unnecessary conflict.”
“A conflict? I heard that Master Baek Yak possesses profound dharma power.”
Chwi So-ok did not answer for a moment. She swallowed hard, as though forcing herself to hold back certain words.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s colorless gaze shone like stars.
“Is she hot-tempered? I have heard there are monks like that sometimes. They send their worldly worries away in a burst of anger. Even Shaolin’s Wall Gecko Fist...”
“No, it is the opposite.”
“What?”
“Even among demonic and unorthodox practitioners, Thunderclap Guanyin is called the Stone Buddha. They say nothing can disturb her peace of mind because she is detached from all things. When Laughing Heaven Unrivaled was young, they once tried to act like the Heavenly Demon before her and fled. I heard she withstood the Heaven-Mingling Joy Art, said to be the greatest art in the world for seducing others, without even raising her inner energy...”
“As expected.”
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had secretly begun to guard against the bloodline of his maternal family after reuniting with a young relative, let out a brief exclamation. He had to meet her at once.
Chwi So-ok’s expression grew slightly urgent.
“I overheard her speaking with the Tang Family Head, and she seemed doubtful about Young Master Jeong’s participation in the Grand Contest. She is interested only in orthodox Chan Buddhist teachings that emphasize enlightenment. So even if she dismisses you for a moment...”
“What a strange thing to say.”
Step.
Jeong Yeon-shin answered carelessly and walked through the aura barrier.
Fragments of qi shattered by his steps remained behind his black hair, rippling like specks of light.
For a moment, Chwi So-ok almost stared blankly at him.
“Let me finish...!”
She quickly reached out, then stopped.
A faint trace of dharma-infused qi flowed from beneath the Leader of Demon Wings’ black robe like smoke before vanishing.
Footnotes:
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