WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 68: Reputation (3)
──────
The Lord of Desolate Fortress stood outside the formation. Even so, her presence was unmistakable.
Their gazes seemed to meet, yet somehow passed one another by. For an instant, their eyes had clearly met, but that was all.
It was deeply strange. She had come all this way. Why would she ignore Jeong Yeon-shin?
She merely stood there. Sunlight broke along the line of her slender jaw, tilted slightly to one side.
Silence lingered. Her head did not turn back.
The stillness surrounding him gradually began to unsettle him.
Surely not. Could she truly not recognize him?
It was a situation he had never considered.
The Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation might have been an ultimate formation technique beyond the human realm, but the Lord of Desolate Fortress was an unparalleled master whose every movement transcended ordinary limits.
‘She cannot have been deceived by a formation of sorcery arts.’
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes wavered for the first time.
He had remained calm even within the Blood Flame Sect’s main headquarters. This time was different. He could not help it.
Then it happened.
- You can take more. I will give you a day.
A whisper as soft as a breeze brushed against his ear.
A soft footfall sounded.
It was the moment she took a single step.
In an instant, she vanished amid leaves fluttering like flower petals.
It did not resemble the Body Movement Scripture of a human. Like a sudden gust of wind, she disappeared without a trace, as though she had never come.
“...”
He had clearly felt her presence. He could not doubt his razor-sharp senses.
The uncertainty in his eyes soon settled. Jeong Yeon-shin regained his composure with astonishing speed.
I will give you a day. Those words gently warmed the heart that had raced nonstop beneath a Blue Uniform.
He could leave.
‘I saw and heard correctly.’
The Lord of Desolate Fortress had come. That much was certain.
Her words were strange.
It was as though she wanted Jeong Yeon-shin to take things that could only be obtained from the Blood Flame Sect.
Had she sensed the Mara Roaring Blood Art he had newly attained?
Perhaps she had even seen through the fact that he had imbued the Demon-Slaying Azure River Hand with the formation’s subtle effects.
‘Take more?’
Jeong Yeon-shin stopped thinking about Go Jong-hak’s surveillance.
For a long time, he felt the Lord of Desolate Fortress’s whisper linger in his ears. Then, very slowly, he sank into thought.
What else could he obtain?
He continued pondering until the red long robe covering him caught the faint glow of sunset.
* * *
Morning came quickly. He did not know how he had slept.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly left the house where he had been left alone after the Seventh Apostle departed. The Lord of Desolate Fortress’s words would not leave his mind.
‘Will I gain something if I completely unravel the Blood Arts mnemonic formula? Or do I need to obtain something from the Sect Master?’
Lost in thought, he made his way toward his destination.
A message had arrived early that morning. It was an invitation to attend a banquet.
The Blood Flame Sect was a place where people lived, too. He had learned that well from Go Jong-hak, the Third Apostle’s son.
There was envy and jealousy among the cultists, and with the sect’s vast influence, they also enjoyed lavish banquets.
Most of the time, those feasts were said to come with blood and corpses.
Still, this was his first invitation. They had requested a meeting while even invoking the Sect Master. He could not refuse.
This was no ordinary matter.
‘Go Jong-hak followed me yesterday.’
He would have seen signs that someone had visited outside the formation. He might even have caught sight of the Lord of Desolate Fortress for a moment.
The Blood Flame Sect had given considerable freedom to Jeong Yeon-shin, who was still no more than a prisoner.
They claimed it was to preserve the Grand Preceptor’s inspiration, but they had left him alone to a strangely excessive extent.
Judging only by the way they treated Jeong Yeon-shin, it hardly seemed like an unorthodox sect at all.
‘Today is the last day. I may learn why.’
Jeong Yeon-shin walked slowly. The bright glow of lanterns was already spreading through his vision.
“Was it the Wave Gate? That sect leader’s brat was quite ruthless.”
“I cut down that bastard’s younger sibling. Their cultivation had quite a flavor. The blood was nothing special.”
The banquet was being held in the inner courtyard of the Sect Master’s Hall. Many unorthodox martial artists were there.
They exchanged greetings, discussed Blood Arts and doctrine, and boasted of the exploits they had performed at the sects they raided to absorb qi.
Their fierce presences and mad words created the particular chaos of the unorthodox sects.
“Welcome, Grand Preceptor. We are simply grateful that you accepted the invitation to the banquet my family requested!”
Go Jong-hak stepped forward to greet Jeong Yeon-shin with deliberate courtesy. His lips, however, held a faint sneer.
“Grand Preceptor?”
“A Desolate Fortress bastard came?”
“Hasn’t he produced any clear results yet?”
“It is too soon. Far too soon.”
This was a banquet for the leadership. Their reactions differed from those of ordinary cultists. Their speech and behavior were far less restrained, and none of them concealed their aura.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt it as soon as he arrived. There were no allies here.
Yet he did not feel alone. It was as if the Lord of Desolate Fortress’s gentle presence had wrapped around his entire body. It had been that way since last night.
“Pay no mind to the words of those who know nothing.”
Go Jong-hak spoke, but his expression said otherwise. As he guided Jeong Yeon-shin to the seat of honor, satisfaction showed plainly on his face.
‘This is where that lowborn wretch falls.’
Go Jong-hak thought.
Grand Preceptor Seom-ye had gone all over the sect during the past month.
Changing martial arts was something ordinary people could scarcely imagine, yet a prisoner treated as a Grand Preceptor had spent a full month in leisure under the excuse of seeking inspiration.
Even if they had allowed him freedom of movement because they possessed the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation, this had gone too far.
Naturally, it had been grating on the Blood Flame Sect’s upper ranks. Then yesterday’s incident occurred.
Go Jong-hak had seen it clearly.
He was certain even from the side profile. A member of the elven race had reached the area near the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation, then vanished. He could not follow the traces of that figure’s Body Movement Scripture. It was an incredibly powerful master.
He immediately reported it to his father, the Third Apostle. The Grand Preceptor had been standing before that figure.
‘That elven race trash was such a transcendent master. Who knows what strange abilities they might possess?’
The elven race, a pillar of the Beijing imperial court, had long been an enemy of the Blood Flame Sect. They had clashed repeatedly, encountering all manner of mysterious martial arts and incidents.
It was possible that the elven race member had communicated with the Grand Preceptor through one of their unique abilities.
The Third Apostle met privately with the Sect Master. The banquet was arranged at once.
The thirty-six steps leading to the Sect Master’s Hall symbolized the Blood Flame Sect Master’s authority.
They were incredibly broad. Even with luxurious seats arranged on every tier, there was still room to spare.
“Isn’t this a banquet of a scale rarely seen even at the main headquarters?”
“Enjoy it. At gatherings like this, one of the sect’s stars usually falls.”
The loud talkers were right. This was a place to question and remove someone who had tarnished the authority of the sect leadership.
A perfect opportunity.
‘Young Sect Master? What nonsense.’
Go Jong-hak’s lips curled high.
Bringing his hands together, he said, “My family petitioned the Sect Master to hold this banquet. It occurred to us too late that we should seat the Grand Preceptor in a place befitting you. There was not enough time to send word beforehand. I hope you will be understanding.”
His conduct was respectful, and he wore an expression of regret.
His boldly featured face was rather handsome. At a glance, he even seemed sincere.
Jeong Yeon-shin watched Go Jong-hak quietly, then smiled faintly.
Go Jong-hak’s necklace caught his eye. A small jade bead hung from it.
The Poison-Avoiding Pearl.
Jeong Yeon-shin had heard Go Jong-hak brag about it.
Only some of the sect’s leaders possessed the treasure. The Third Apostle had bestowed it upon his son.
It was said to be immensely precious. It would immediately neutralize most poisons.
‘It will be useful when I use the blood poison given to me by the Sect Master.’
Keeping his eye on the Poison-Avoiding Pearl, he spoke casually.
“I should be glad that you invited me.”
The vigor he had shown when first entering was hard to find. A gleam passed through Go Jong-hak’s eyes.
The reactions around them were reflected in his gaze. The many people who had been on edge seemed disappointed.
“Is it because the Seventh Apostle has gone out to battle?”
“Was he really just a freeloader?”
Words unimaginable in Desolate Fortress or the orthodox martial world ran rampant.
No one stopped them. The Blood Flame Sect Master, looking down from the highest seat, had remained expressionless throughout.
“Those who were meant to come have arrived. I will offer a toast.”
The Sect Master spoke in a low voice.
Silence fell in an instant. There was no need to send qi through his voice or otherwise draw their attention.
Jeong Yeon-shin clearly recognized that everyone in this vast banquet hall was a master.
The exceptional senses of the unorthodox masters seemed to encompass the entire inner courtyard of the Sect Master’s Hall.
“You are the pillars of this sect. The day approaches when your extraordinary talents will shine through your faith. We have brought in a Grand Preceptor who will blacken the sight of fools. He will transform the Blood Arts and cleanse the hypocrisy from the world. First, raise your cups.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master ran long fingers over his cup, then slowly gripped it and drank.
Only then did the masters watching him raise their own cups.
“This is Dukang Wine. I heard the Grand Preceptor is from Henan. Do you know it?”
Go Jong-hak asked with a quiet smile from the seat beside him.
Jeong Yeon-shin shook his head.
He seemed to recall hearing that it was a drink his father had enjoyed at Jeong Family Manor, but he had never shared a drink with him, so he was not certain.
He knew it was a famous wine of Henan. It was said that Cao Cao, Emperor Wu of Wei, had enjoyed drinking it.
‘The meaning of this wine is strange in this place.’
The fragrance of wine flowed through the banquet hall.
As the Blood Flame Sect Master continued drinking Dukang Wine, the atmosphere grew subdued. It was as though he were swallowing the ambitions Cao Cao had once harbored.
Tension filled the air.
Everyone seemed to sense that blood would soon flow down the steps. That was what a banquet held before the Sect Master’s Hall meant.
“Go Jong-hak.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master spoke. As he leaned slightly, his smooth white hair fell loose.
His gaze passed over Jeong Yeon-shin. His unnaturally scarlet lips curved faintly.
“Yes, Sect Master.”
Go Jong-hak quickly stepped forward and prostrated himself.
His head was completely lowered, his body flat against the ground, but the broad expanse of his back somehow looked triumphant.
The Sect Master spoke.
“Question him.”
“I accept your command.”
Go Jong-hak rose at once and turned around. His intention was clear. His gaze settled on Jeong Yeon-shin.
‘This is obvious.’
Jeong Yeon-shin had no desire to listen to a long speech.
‘I do not have time.’
The Lord of Desolate Fortress had given him one day. The Seventh Apostle had said that martial artists from three of the Nine Sects and the regional martial world had arrived.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress he had met yesterday had sent a sound transmission through the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation.
The formation of sorcery arts would shatter before the day was over. Martial artists of every kind would descend upon the Blood Flame Sect’s main headquarters.
Go Jong-hak cleared his throat, as though preparing to deliver a polished speech, and parted his lips.
“In short.”
Jeong Yeon-shin spoke first.
“There has been no progress in transforming the First Blood Art, and in the middle of it all, hostile enemies targeting the main headquarters brushed against the formation.”
“...”
“A person from Desolate Fortress became the Grand Preceptor, and the timing was poor. You must have wondered whether I was willing to cooperate.”
“...The Grand Preceptor is correct.”
Go Jong-hak clasped his hands behind his back with deliberate ease. Just as he opened his mouth to say something more, Jeong Yeon-shin raised his head toward the Blood Flame Sect Master.
“I understand this gathering was held at the request of Go Jong-hak and the Third Apostle.”
“Speak.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master nodded slightly with a smooth smile. Jeong Yeon-shin continued calmly.
“I am deeply displeased. If I prove my usefulness here, may I take a precious treasure from the Go family of the main headquarters?”
“Impudent bastard.”
The Third Apostle, seated to the side on the tier just below the Sect Master, muttered.
Jeong Yeon-shin did not care.
“If I cannot, you may cut off my head.”
“I was going to ask you eventually. I, too, was curious about your progress.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master answered with a dizzying smile that seemed touched by demonic allure.
The solemn mood turned strange. A wager involving a head excited people regardless of the era.
Jeong Yeon-shin had been made Grand Preceptor under exceptional circumstances, but none of the leadership treated him as part of the legitimate line.
Unlike ordinary cultists, they possessed the power of bloodlines built over many years.
Their treatment of Jeong Yeon-shin could not help but be two-faced, no matter how extraordinary his talent was.
To them, he was either a spiritual beast that could change the situation or a disposable tool brought in from outside.
It was time to judge the usefulness of the Desolate Fortress whelp they had allowed to roam freely for a while.
“Come here.”
Jeong Yeon-shin beckoned to an attendant. The attendant was an ordinary cultist.
The red-haired attendant did not dare defy the Grand Preceptor’s words and approached.
“Sit and accept the energy.”
The attendant immediately sat on the floor and closed his eyes. Blind madness showed in his posture.
At a glance, he looked almost indifferent. It seemed he would not care even if Jeong Yeon-shin killed him.
“...”
An unexpected session of qi circulation and breath regulation unfolded in the banquet hall.
Jeong Yeon-shin said nothing and bent slightly. He slowly placed a hand on the attendant’s back and activated the Blood Arts.
A month had passed since he came to the main headquarters. He had even had ample time to alter several lines of the mnemonic formula, just in case.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s Blood Arts qi flowed through the attendant’s body.
The reaction was immediate.
“Huh?”
“What is that...?”
It was a miracle. Something unprecedented in the Blood Flame Sect was happening.
The vivid red hair rapidly darkened into black. The First Blood Art, which had endured for centuries, underwent a dramatic change.
The masters who had hurled all manner of insults at Jeong Yeon-shin swallowed stunned groans.
The transformation took astonishingly little time.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly removed his hand.
The attendant grasped the black hair that now fell to his shoulders and checked it. His blank expression shattered at once.
“Grand Preceptor, Grand Preceptor... Have I truly contained a miracle within my body for the first time...?”
His body trembled as he muttered.
Jeong Yeon-shin was not looking at him.
He could not accurately gauge what the Lord of Desolate Fortress had meant.
Then he would first take whatever caught his eye, before the martial artists arrived here today.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head and looked at Go Jong-hak. Did the madmen of the Blood Flame Sect have unusual blood flow, too?
It was the first time he had seen a human face turn truly blue. Go Jong-hak’s hands had come unclasped from behind his back.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.
“The Poison-Avoiding Pearl around your neck.”
Whoosh!
At that moment, he deliberately activated the Mara Roaring Blood Art. The blood-red long robe around him began to flutter.
An eerie aura spread coldly from his entire body, accompanied by a sinister wave.
“Present it to me now.”
The Blood Flame Sect’s young Grand Preceptor spoke.
Footnotes:
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
