WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 62: Blood Flame Sect
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The day before they left Xuzhou was brilliantly clear.
The spring sunlight was so bright that it seemed to settle vividly upon Jeong Yeon-shin’s dark eyebrows.
He had just returned from the government office after passing word to the senior warriors.
He had informed seniors such as Cheong Myeong, scattered throughout Southern Zhili, of the situation. It was something only Desolate Fortress could manage.
The county magistrate had looked troubled. It would take time for the messages to reach them.
Yeon-shin had also wanted to send a courier to Shandong Province, where the main force was likely stationed, but it would have to cross an entire province. There was no reason to expect it to arrive quickly.
‘It can’t be helped.’
Leaving the government office behind, Yeon-shin faced another concern. Hyeon Won-chang could barely move.
Hyeon Won-chang’s body was wracked by internal injuries. It was not an easy decision to put the injured person on a jolting carriage or horseback.
‘How should I take Hyeon Won-chang?’
After agonizing over it, Yeon-shin returned to the guest room. The Imperial Hero lay on the bed with narrowed eyes.
Before he could even close the door, Hyeon Won-chang turned slightly. When their eyes met, Hyeon Won-chang grinned.
“I feel like death.”
“I’m worried about the Imperial Hero’s health.”
Yeon-shin answered with a joke.
The corners of Hyeon Won-chang’s mouth rose further. The Imperial Hero seemed unable to tire of hearing the epithet.
Quite a few commoners had been lingering around the inn, hoping to see Hyeon Won-chang, the Imperial Hero.
“I’ve become a burden.”
“Sword Dragon is waiting for us.”
“Hm? Lady Weiji?”
Yeon-shin told Hyeon Won-chang about the conversation with Weiji Myo-hwa.
Hyeon Won-chang’s face immediately twisted. The expression looked almost devastated.
“Young Hero Jeong’s heart is as vast as the sea. I am deeply moved! But don’t do this. The Blood Flame Sect is at war with one of the Eight Great Families. How could they not have sent Apostles? Didn’t we see the Seventh Apostle’s martial arts last time?”
“One of the Seventh Apostle’s eyes was knocked out by my hand.”
Yeon-shin answered calmly, leaning against the wall.
He slowly continued while running his fingers over the hilts of the Northern Light Sword and the Desolate Sword in turn.
“It’ll be enough if I lend a hand. The Namgung Family’s masters won’t be standing around doing nothing either.”
They exchanged a few more words.
‘There is no reason not to do it.’
Yeon-shin had already decided. He could earn merit while preserving a companion’s martial arts.
Hyeon Won-chang could not overcome Yeon-shin’s stubbornness.
The Imperial Hero was, after all, a master of Demon Wings.
Though Hyeon Won-chang appeared careless on the surface, the Imperial Hero had excellent instincts for judging a battle.
The longer they argued, the less time Yeon-shin had to spare.
“After saving my life, you’re now doing me a favor as a martial artist as well.”
For once, Hyeon Won-chang wore a serious expression, briefly closing and opening both eyes.
“Then this is Young Hero Jeong’s concern. How will you take this living corpse to Huizhou?”
“...They say we have about a month, but if we go from Huizhou all the way back to Xuzhou, there isn’t much time to spare.”
“Don’t worry about that!”
Despite severe internal injuries, Hyeon Won-chang’s voice remained strong. The Imperial Hero grinned.
“There is a reason martial artists who have fallen into qi deviation, leaving their qi circulation paths in disarray, are vulnerable to shocks. Years of training make their intent in controlling qi rigid. Regulating inner energy as they normally would becomes poison. They do not even realize their bodies are ruined.”
“Then?”
“My family possesses the secret art of the Tortoise Breath Method. It is no ordinary technique. It freezes even the flow of qi to protect the fine meridians, and since it is an assassin’s secret art, it remains remarkably stable even over long periods.”
Hyeon Won-chang had called it a secret art of the family, yet spoke of assassins.
‘The Tortoise Breath Method?’
It was an ambush technique that slowed one’s breathing and heartbeat through inner energy while concealing qi.
It was a stealth-related martial art displayed in Desolate Fortress’s martial archives.
An assassin’s secret art. Yeon-shin repeated the words inwardly.
The notion of assassins forming a family was absurd.
Still, assassins who had washed their hands of blood and left the martial world might exist.
This was the first time Hyeon Won-chang had mentioned the family at all. Yeon-shin gave no sign of his thoughts and simply nodded.
A strange relief seemed to enter Hyeon Won-chang’s eyes. The Imperial Hero continued slowly.
“I could be buried anywhere, so long as there is a hole to breathe through. A carriage’s shaking would be nothing. There is no need to worry about me. You should display your martial arts, Young Hero Jeong.”
“If the injured person can hide safely... if there will be no issue escorting you, that would be truly reassuring.”
“Of course! This Desolate Fortress Divine Hero will not become anyone’s burden!”
Hyeon Won-chang laughed heartily, then began coughing as though blood had risen in the throat.
Shaking his head, Yeon-shin pushed away from the wall and left the room again.
After borrowing a fine horse and carriage from the government office, he explained the situation to Weiji Myo-hwa.
Her expression darkened at the mention of the Tortoise Breath Method. She was a successor of one of the Nine Sects, the peak of orthodox martial sects.
She could not welcome an assassin’s martial art.
“...You two are heroes. I’ll guard the rear.”
Fortunately, Weiji Myo-hwa was broad-minded. She was a great hero who did not judge people by their martial arts.
Yeon-shin clasped his hands in thanks.
Thus, two people and one half-dead corpse set out on the road.
* * *
Xuzhou was not close to Huizhou. They stood at the northern and southern ends of Southern Zhili.
This time, they encountered many bandits.
They were not Green Forest bandits of the martial world. They were commoners driven by famine to use their plows to harm others.
Famine was not the only disaster, either.
Perhaps because the Blood Flame Sect had risen in rebellion, the closer they came to Huizhou, the more bandits they encountered.
“How else do unorthodox sects survive? By sinking their teeth into the backs of commoners.”
Surprisingly, those were Weiji Myo-hwa’s words. Whenever she spoke of the Blood Flame Sect, even her eyes turned sharp.
Perhaps they had grown a little closer over their not-so-short journey together.
Unless the bandits tried to take lives, they repeatedly intimidated them with their presence and let them go. Before long, they reached their destination.
“We’ve arrived.”
Weiji Myo-hwa spoke as the two had just buried Hyeon Won-chang in the nearby ground.
They could not help expecting a fierce battle.
Yeon-shin looked past those guarding the entrance to the valley.
This was the border between Chizhou and Huizhou. They called it Clear Night Valley.
From afar, collisions of force waves could occasionally be felt. This did not seem to be an ordinary battle.
“You there.”
People in the distance approached. Five of them had red hair.
Their identities were clear before they even came close.
One of them led the way. The man had a shaved head and a square jaw.
The aura pressing against Yeon-shin’s skin was quite strong. The man seemed to be an ordinary cultist on the verge of becoming a Blood Master.
The man’s martial arts were strong enough that some might mistake him for a Blood Master.
The man spoke.
“You two don’t look ordinary. You’re even pulling a fine horse and carriage. Leave everything you have here and turn back.”
A finely made carriage was a luxury item.
Anyone would assume they carried ample travel funds. The bandits they had met on the road had thought the same.
Yet the Blood Flame Sect cultists stopped ten paces away.
They did not come any closer. They maintained their distance thoroughly.
‘So they truly are one of the Thirteen Heavens of the unorthodox sects.’
Yeon-shin thought.
The cultist had a fair amount of sense. They seemed to have sensed something from Yeon-shin and Weiji Myo-hwa.
Some of the bandits they had met before had been different. They had rushed at Weiji Myo-hwa without restraint, hoping to have their way with her, only to be thrown to the ground.
“Desolate Fortress... Blue Uniform...?”
Another cultist, who had sidestepped slightly, muttered. The cultist was keen-eyed.
The men immediately began talking over one another.
“Desolate Fortress Blue Uniform? At that age?”
“He must be from some prestigious family. He probably grew up swallowing spiritual medicine like meals. Watch out for a single powerful blow. His inner energy must be monstrous. We could die if we’re careless.”
“That is all. We only need to crush him with technique. What excellent prey.”
They started chattering among themselves.
This was the Blood Flame Sect’s true nature. They valued a mass of inner energy to absorb more than their own lives.
They had even made assumptions from Yeon-shin’s appearance.
‘They don’t know me.’
A strange light entered Yeon-shin’s eyes. It felt as though he had discovered one of the Blood Flame Sect’s weaknesses.
They were ordinary cultists, not Blood Masters. Fire ants. Their numbers vastly exceeded those of the Blood Masters.
A cult of fanatics was said to be especially strict in its hierarchy.
Those below acted when those above commanded them. They had no freedom. News could not easily circulate among them.
The cultists began striding closer. One even used a movement technique to charge forward.
It was as though whoever caught them first would claim them.
Weiji Myo-hwa stepped forward. The instant her palm struck the leading man’s solar plexus, a pulse of qi swelled from the point of impact.
Boom!
Dust scattered in every direction. The force wave that burst out as a violent gale raked even the rocks as it swept through.
The cultists charging with the leader were sent sprawling miserably.
Yeon-shin dashed through the aftermath of the Zhongnan Sect’s Azure Cloud Heavenly Dipper Hand.
He knew the battle between the Namgung Family and the Blood Flame Sect was taking place right before them.
Without hesitation, he stretched out his left hand and seized one cultist’s face. It was the shaved-headed man who had been closest to becoming a Blood Master.
“Ghk!”
Recently, Yeon-shin’s face had become the only thing that revealed his age.
His body, trained through the Jeong Family Youth Technique, had matured with the passage of time. It had been growing at an astonishing rate of late.
His body was already nearly that of an adult.
The fingers wrapped around the man’s face were long enough.
That meant Yeon-shin could run while gripping an adult man’s face with inner energy.
Boom!
A storm rose beneath the foot driven into the earth. The moment he pushed off the ground, the sensation came.
The Ultimate Realm’s layered qi surged from the clearly defined muscles along both sides of his thighs.
It began.
Boom!
He ran while gripping the man’s face. The valley scenery rushing ahead scattered into hundreds of streaking lines.
Whoosh!
The wind lashing past his ears was fierce beyond measure.
Wouldn’t an achievement in battle worth noticing need to be as spectacular as possible? He had thought about it for a long time.
Yeon-shin created a gale through the movement technique while drawing his sword.
Sunlight shimmered silver along the flowing patterns on the blade.
It took less than an instant to burst into the battlefield. The floor of the valley was as broad as a plain.
Hundreds of martial artists swarmed below, displaying their skills.
The spectacle of tremendous martial arts created the martial momentum of a war involving thousands.
Yeon-shin did not care. He leaped down at once and threw the man he held.
Thud!
“W-What is that?”
“Who the hell is that?”
It was the Body Movement Scripture, as though clothed in the wind unique to the elven race. Yeon-shin’s blue robe streamed behind like an immortal’s robe.
Whoooom!
At that moment, the Northern Light Sword was already crying out with Sword Song.
The Blood Flame Sect cultists who had tormented him so relentlessly began spewing blood and collapsing.
Boom!
Yeon-shin deliberately stamped down hard. The thickly spread dust was shredded by the storm of force waves that erupted at once.
After landing, he charged forward again. In an instant, the tide of battle twisted along the Northern Light Sword.
As though an invisible typhoon had unfurled around him, people were sent flying and scattered in every direction.
Most died instantly. It was power that could not be explained by his apparent martial attainment.
The Sword Song formula he had tuned beforehand somehow spared the Namgung Family from casualties.
He pierced straight through the battlefield. In an instant, he reached where the Namgung Family’s leadership stood.
A peerlessly handsome man with a gentle impression, a lively bronze-skinned woman, an imposing middle-aged figure, and several elders wore expressions of every kind.
Then it happened.
“Seom-ye of Demon Wings. You managed to return.”
“Your gentle face looked as if your soul had fled, yet you’ve brought strange martial arts.”
When Yeon-shin turned around, familiar figures were grinning. They did so even though they knew his identity.
Blood Masters whose gleaming hair was both black and red.
The aura the two emitted together was far from ordinary.
Yeon-shin silently watched them. A scene appeared vividly before his eyes.
He could not possibly forget. It had been the first time in his life that he had run away.
He understood why the two wore such mocking expressions.
They had led the charge at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering and thrown thunderclap bombs at him.
Every one of them was mad. They did not seem to care how many ordinary cultists died.
“You thought something would change if you were together with the Namgung Family?”
One of them spoke. A thunderclap bomb rested in their hand, drawn soundlessly like a hidden weapon.
There was a noticeable stir among the nearby martial artists.
Yeon-shin had been no different when Lotus Pavilion in Huizhou was thrown into chaos during the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.
Step.
This time was different. He did not stop walking.
Without turning around, he knew the Namgung Family’s greatest masters would be watching.
He slowly parted his lips.
“You bastards need to understand this clearly.”
He sheathed the Northern Light Sword and drew the familiar Desolate Sword at the same time. The motion flowed smoothly between sheathing one sword and drawing the other.
Anyone could recognize the bearing of a master. The Desolate Sword’s blade naturally emerged and began to catch the sunlight.
He adjusted his grip on the hilt once. Its chilly touch became hot in an instant.
“If you throw first, you’re the traitors. I bear no guilt.”
Yeon-shin spoke calmly.
Footnotes:
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