WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 429: Grandmaster (3)
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The Peng Family Head’s death had been an accident. A life-and-death duel that had erupted without any preparation. There had been no room for formalities.
The formal duels of the Pact of Mount Hua were different.
They began at the appointed hour, precisely on time. They were also remarkably grand, supported by the wealthy lay disciples of the Nine Sects.
At the center of Green Jade Sword Manor stood a vast dueling platform. Its yellow-red bricks looked like marble, their surfaces cut flat by master swordsmen.
Five or six tiers of viewing stands and awnings formed a broad ring around it. Beyond them, the pure-white walls enclosing the manor flashed brightly in the sun.
Everywhere the eye could reach was packed with people.
It was a true sea of humanity. Some claimed it was the largest martial tournament held in nearly fifty years.
“Wudang’s Palm Phoenix...!”
“The Shaolin Eighteen Arhats!”
“Aren’t those venerables the Four Vajras...? I never thought I’d see six ordination scars in my lifetime...”
“Look over there, the Jeomchang Sect’s swordsmen!”
“The Six Kings martial lineage! The Six Kings martial lineage came too!”
Excitement showed in every expression, anticipation in every gesture.
All the notable figures of the orthodox martial world had gathered. Those who had entered the manor as participants were making a commotion like ordinary spectators.
There were several hundred of them. Some glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin, seated in the viewing stand across from the platform, and whispered among themselves.
Fear, doubt, and awe filled their eyes as they looked upon the newly appointed Purple Uniform.
It truly was a tide of people.
The gathering consisted entirely of renowned martial artists. It should have been impossible to control, yet the atmosphere suddenly grew heavy when a young Daoist in white robes took the seat of honor on the platform.
The presence of Wudang’s Ancient Sword gently pressed down on the orthodox martial world.
“Silence, everyone.”
Ancient Sword spoke.
He gave Jeong Yeon-shin, seated to his right, a wink like an old man might. It appeared to be because of what had happened to the Peng Family Head.
But that was all.
Ancient Sword was a Martial God of the same generation as the Tyrant Hero, someone who had endured the martial world’s chaos for decades. He did not blame the new Purple Uniform, merely turning his gaze toward the person seated to his left as the Peng Family’s representative.
“Is the Peng Family ready?”
“Yes.”
Peng Ga-inhu gave a slight nod.
Her arms and legs had grown as long as Jeong Yeon-shin’s. The wondrous effects of the Indian Yoga Divine Art were clear to see.
She sat among the martial world’s great figures with her long legs casually crossed, yet her posture did not look out of place.
No one criticized Peng Ga-inhu’s manners. The martial artists seated around her only looked somewhat uncomfortable.
She was destined to become the Peng Family Head, and though it had been a legitimate life-and-death duel, she had lost her father. That was enough to turn the shaded viewing stand into the Peng Family’s inner residence.
This was where someone of high standing settled debts and grievances.
“You’re not late.”
The voice came from one step above, behind Jeong Yeon-shin.
A rich yet clear fragrance drifted over him, followed by the soft rustle of robes settling. The plum-blossom scent born from the qi of a Divine Technique, along with the faint presence of a transcendent Body Movement Scripture. He did not need to turn around to know who it was.
“Good. Will Mount Hua’s sect leader join us as a witness?”
“Yes, gladly.”
Perhaps because this was an official occasion, there was a formality between them that was absent in private.
Jeong Yeon-shin set aside the conversation between Ancient Sword and Yulha Nangnang. That supreme masters of the martial world had come to watch a duel between martial lineages was a secondary matter.
His slightly tense gaze had already settled on the young martial artist standing atop the platform.
Ma Ung, a White Uniform martial artist from the Desolate Ma family.
He was a rising talent who had once sided with Ma Se-in’s mother. The moment he saw the Tyrant Hero restored through Rejuvenation, he admitted he had been wrong and tried to destroy his own dantian.
Jeong Yeon-shin had stopped him. He had heard that Ma Ung was Ma Se-in’s guard and someone like an older brother to him.
At the time, Jeong Yeon-shin had thought of his dead eldest brother and his second brother, Jeong Joong-san.
He had not wanted to take from Ma Se-in the warmth of family that he himself had never known.
‘So he learned the Jeong Family Youth Technique.’
It was said that a painting now hung on the wall of Ma Ung’s quarters. It depicted a bridge of magpies and crows, along with a kite marked by a hawk. It was the mnemonic formula of the Jeong Family Youth Technique.
Ma Ung had copied word for word the passage about Jeong Yeon-shin envying the Qixi kite games his brothers shared, much as Wudang Sect disciples were rumored to keep the symbol of Taiji close at hand.
The night Jeong Yeon-shin heard Ma Se-in tell him that story, his bed had broken. Regardless, Ma Ung had earnestly learned the abridged Jeong Family Youth Technique in his own way.
But he had drawn an unfavorable opponent.
“I am Peng Jun. Since I have trained in the family’s Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber, my fellow martial artists have granted me the epithet Great Tiger Blade.”
A man in yellow martial robes with a saber at his waist cupped his hands toward Ma Ung. His hands rose to his chest in a measured gesture, but there was no respect in it.
Instead, it carried hostility.
His bearing was flawless, that of a distinguished family, yet palpable hostility seeped through it.
He was said to be a rather famous rising talent.
He looked three or four years older than Ma Ung and had an imposing build.
An invisible aura already spread from his entire body, its inner-power fluctuations hazily staining the surface of the platform.
“Ma Ung. I learned an abridged version of the Jeong Family Youth Technique.”
Ma Ung only half-heartedly raised his cupped hands, then immediately drew the sword at his waist. That movement alone was concise and picturesque.
Watching Ma Ung from the viewing stand, Jeong Yeon-shin clicked his tongue inwardly. Other than himself and Ma Se-in, there was almost no future for the etiquette of their maternal family.
‘Then again, when those at the top set an example that flows downhill like a waterfall...’
He was thinking of the Tyrant Hero, Ma Yeon-jeok, and Abyssal Killer Ma Jin when Ancient Sword spoke from beside him.
[Since Desolate Fortress’s Purple Uniform Leader of Demon Wings defeated the late Peng Family Head, today’s duels shall take place in three rounds. The two standing on the platform may begin.]
The voice spread far and wide.
It carried an enormous amount of inner power, far beyond the Peng Family Head’s inner-energy voice technique.
Jeong Yeon-shin recognized that Perfected Ancient Sword’s inner energy cultivation was clearly superior to his own. Still, his concern at that moment was directed at Ma Ung below.
That Peng Family whelp, Little Cat Blade, was giving off killing intent.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s brow furrowed.
‘Unrefined energy... Did they feed him spiritual medicine?’
The Peng Family brat’s qi storage far surpassed Ma Ung’s.
* * *
The result came in an instant.
Peng Jun won.
The Seom-ye Martial Lineage, which had recently gained fame for swift, decisive battles, was overwhelmed by even faster saber moves.
Ma Ung was helplessly driven back by the saber shadows of the Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber before falling off the platform.
That was a tremendous stroke of luck.
Peng Jun had fought as though he intended to kill. He never dared look up at Jeong Yeon-shin, the one who had killed the Family Head, but he drove Ma Ung back as though venting his fury over the Family Head’s death on the opponent before him.
The blade qi was vicious. If Peng Ya had not snapped her fingers in time, Peng Jun might have leaped down from the platform and plunged his saber into Ma Ung below.
‘He would have used competitive spirit as an excuse afterward...’
Peng Ya glanced at Jeong Yeon-shin and shook her head inwardly. The family’s saber wielders could not be allowed to run wild as they pleased.
After the Heavenly Net incident that had targeted the Divine Sword Squad Leader, bloodshed had nearly broken out. The Nine Sects had mediated and created this occasion, and she had already understood the truth.
‘We only need to win. There’s no need to provoke him further.’
Peng Ya signaled toward the Peng Family camp occupying one side of the Training Hall. It meant they were to prepare a saber wielder equivalent to Desolate Fortress’s Blue Uniform.
Peng Jun and Ma Ung cupped their hands toward the viewing stand where Peng Ya, Ancient Sword, Jeong Yeon-shin, and Yulha Nangnang sat, then descended from the platform.
Ma Ung’s face was ravaged by despair.
[I declare the Peng Family’s first victory.]
Ancient Sword’s youthful voice boomed. Green Jade Sword Manor was instantly filled with cheers.
Whatever grievances existed between the two great factions, the crowd had broadened its knowledge through the exchanges of promising younger talents.
‘This is it.’
Peng Ya clenched her long fingers into a fist.
The balance between Desolate Fortress and the Peng Family had been restored. A Purple Uniform monster killing the Family Head was no different from one of the main family’s rising talents defeating a White Uniform. That was what the Pact of Mount Hua tournament was.
The crowd’s response was favorable.
“The history accumulated by great sects and families bears fruit in the hands of the rising generation. The Seom-ye Martial Lineage may be famous for swift techniques, but the Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber’s force and ferocity are renowned even in the imperial court.”
“That is an odd thing to say. Is Ma Ung not also a rising talent of the Desolate Ma family? Though he belongs to a branch family...”
“Desolate Fortress is not the issue. Individually, the Leader of Demon Wings will likely contend with Laughing Heaven Unrivaled for the title of greatest under heaven among the next generation. This duel simply revealed the limits of a newly formed martial lineage.”
“As expected of the Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber...!”
The Peng Family was an aristocratic family of Northern Zhili.
Even with the death of its Family Head, its influence had not vanished.
If it displayed strength worthy of its reputation, the martial world’s heroes would naturally offer applause.
That was what Peng Ya sought. She meant to minimize the backlash from what the late Family Head had set in motion. Today, she would make the Peng Family’s presence known again.
She would remind everyone that the Peng clan’s martial nobility had stood as one pillar of the martial world for centuries, and make the martial world uneasy about accepting the anger of Desolate Fortress, which could never be anything but an outsider.
[Next.]
Soon, two more people stepped onto the platform.
One was a middle-aged man who looked remarkably like Peng Jun. The other was a one-eyed elven race swordsman wearing a blue headscarf.
They were Peng Jun’s father, Giant Strength Gleaming Saber Peng Wen-il, and Cheong Myeong, Demon Wings’ Blue-Eyed Demon Sword.
Peng Wen-il silently loosened the straps holding his saber, seemingly indifferent to his son’s victory. Cheong Myeong only nodded toward the seat of honor with a faint smile.
‘Demon Wings’ Demon Sword...’
Peng Ya’s brow tightened slightly. She had a bad feeling about this.
[Begin.]
Saber light and sword light burst forth in blue flashes.
Their exchange did not last long either. Cheong Myeong drew a great circle around Peng Wen-il, sending dozens of streams of blood spraying into the air.
It resembled a sword dance. Every movement was astonishingly swift and light.
Spinning Thread Force sword strikes trapped Peng Wen-il in place while Cheong Myeong moved as though lightly stepping through a forest.
There was not the slightest sense of danger.
The movement art was Wind Body. It was the Seom-ye Martial Lineage’s Body Movement Scripture.
[Desolate Fortress claims two victories. The two of you may step down.]
Peng Family saber wielders supported the blood-soaked, unconscious Peng Wen-il off the platform.
Cheong Myeong, meanwhile, sheathed the sword with a graceful motion and vanished leisurely into the crowd, leaving bloody footprints with every step.
It had been a storm.
Time seemed to blur.
The Seom-ye Martial Lineage’s martial arts were like something fleeing pursuit without rest, while the Peng Family’s saber art sought to crush it beneath the weight of history. The two duels had passed like lightning.
“...”
Silence fell over the grounds.
One duel remained.
If Desolate Fortress won, it would claim a complete victory, three to one. If the Peng Family won, the contest would end in a draw.
Suddenly, the cries of cicadas filled the grounds. Sunlight fell heavily, and the bright noon air shimmered in disorder.
Amid that unceasing movement of nature, Peng Ya slowly rose from her seat.
‘...A draw is possible.’
Swish.
She shifted one foot slightly and suddenly stood atop the dueling platform. It was a display of her attainment in the Body Movement Scripture for all to see.
Then she drew both sabers crossed over her back and drove them into the ground.
Boom!
“The Peng Family!”
Peng Ya shouted in a raw voice.
“Our family has twice stopped the advance of demon tribes who broke through the Northern Army and came south! Our ancestors suffered losses close to the destruction of the family in those battles! We even lost the previous Family Head while resisting the Demon Cult’s invasion from Tian Shan! All of that occurred within the past two hundred years! This family has never had the leisure to privately force the common people into labor. We tempered our sabers solely for this land and the martial world!”
The Peng Family’s achievements were briefly listed. Such self-praise was often recited before a duel carrying a family’s honor.
Yet Peng Ya’s voice, scraping across the air, held fierce spirit.
Her eyes remained cool. She was not intoxicated by her own words. Only the Peng Family’s saber wielders and part of the crowd were swept up in them.
“I intend to display the martial arts I have cultivated before my fellow martial artists here today.”
Boom!
“Desolate Fortress, speak!”
With the bold bearing of a great general, Peng Ya pulled both sabers from the ground and shouted toward Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Who will receive my saber art!”
Her presence was overwhelming. The crowd surrounding the platform began to roar in thunderous cheers. The sound was so deafening that the platform itself seemed to shake.
The gazes of several well-informed spectators turned in one direction.
A young man in black robes sat with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his knees.
White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin.
Anticipation appeared on the crowd’s faces.
Few did not know of the duel between Seom-ye and Clear Qilin. The rumor that Seom-ye had created a sword art honoring a worthy rival at the Martial Alliance Assembly in Hanzhong was also widespread.
Judging the Qilin. Would that sword form bloom from the hands of White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin, who could not learn the Imperial Sword Art because of the limits of his bloodline? It would be a sight that would keep Dengfeng County talking for some time.
“...”
Yet Namgung Hwa-shin did not rise. He only remained seated, his face grave.
The Heaven-Reliant Sword that Lotus Nezha had taken from Namgung First Sword was not at his waist. No presence resembling the Imperial Sword Art arose from him either.
Questioning voices began to spread through the crowd.
“I cannot understand what is happening.”
“Ah...”
“I can understand it, but still.”
“Illegitimate birth, leaving his family, Desolate Fortress, the Namgung Family, Clear Qilin. He had one foot in everything... Yet in the end, did he overcome none of it?”
This was a gathering of renowned figures. No one jeered. A few only clicked their tongues.
“So the Seom-ye Martial Lineage has not risen to the level of supreme masters after all?”
“What a pity. They should wait another ten years. Or perhaps Blue-Eyed Demon Sword will be wearing black robes within a year.”
“In any case, it does not seem to be now.”
“What happens now? Did Desolate Fortress plan to settle the matter with three people? They ought to send someone. The Pact of Mount Hua was meant to bring together every rank within a sect...”
Peng Ya suddenly stamped her foot.
The louder impact swallowed the noise in the grounds.
“Does Desolate Fortress intend to make me draw my sabers for nothing!”
Her overwhelming presence swept over the grounds. Soon, everyone’s eyes moved toward the seat of honor, where Desolate Fortress’s Purple Uniform sat with a calm expression.
Then...
Kwoooong!
It came from beside the platform. The wall of Green Jade Sword Manor collapsed all at once.
The force behind the impact was so great that smoke rose between the piles of stone, then shot into the sky in every direction.
“What...!”
Those whose backs had been to the wall quickly turned around.
A pitch-black afterimage flashed past them, accompanied by a monstrous gale.
The crowd’s clothes snapped violently in the wind. It felt as though a typhoon had struck.
Whoosh!
Only an instant passed before the intruding figure reached the center of the platform. A black-clad man stood three steps from Peng Ya, looking down at her.
“...”
His presence was heavy and tyrannical.
His appearance matched it. What had once been a handsome face was marred by scars, while dark metal protruded from one sleeve in place of human flesh, drinking in the sunlight.
“Who are you...?”
Confusion appeared in Peng Ya’s eyes.
Perfected Ancient Sword, seated in the viewing stand, looked utterly flustered. The venerable Wudang Perfected appeared to know the intruder.
“If the crowd was a problem, you could have jumped over it. Why did you destroy an innocent wall?”
Ancient Sword spoke in rebuke. Only then did the black-clad man slowly open his mouth.
“I’m not a gentleman thief. Why would I climb over a wall?”
“What?”
“I was rather pressed for time. We can’t give the Peng Family an undeserved win by default, can we? Brat, you may begin.”
Those last words were directed at Peng Ga-inhu.
Both his speech and bearing bordered on arrogance.
It would not have been wrong to say he was only slightly less brazen than the new Purple Uniform had been when killing the Peng Family Head.
Peng Ya’s eyes sharpened.
“A washed-up relic who does not even know his place...”
There was no longer any room for formality.
The veins in Peng Ya’s hands bulged as she raised her two sabers above her head.
Kiiiing!
With a shriek that tore through the air, two streaks flashed like lightning along the path of her hands.
One stroke, two halves. She intended to sever both shoulders at close range.
A roar like a tiger’s cry burst out with the very motion of her strike. Before anyone could blink, both blades came crashing down.
At that instant.
The black-clad man flicked both sabers upward with his hands.
Kkaaaang!
The angle of his hands was slanted. Even the explosive sound of the force wave was somehow suppressed.
Then the eyes of the crowd surrounding the platform widened.
“...!”
Peng Ga-inhu’s twin sabers, naturally flung upward, returned to their sheaths.
It was as though he had sheathed them for her.
It was humiliation beyond measure for a saber wielder at the peak of skill.
“Full-body Force Projection. The Jeong Family Youth Technique.”
The black-clad man muttered briefly.
Footnotes:
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