WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Episode 70: Reputation (5)
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Immediately after the young Grand Preceptor broke Go Jong-hak’s neck.
The Third Apostle did not care about his son’s death. Go Jong-hak must have gone to Peach Blossom Paradise.
Blood Flame Sect followers did not concern themselves with the well-being of those who had departed. It was the sordid affairs of this present world that enraged them.
“You lowborn bastard.”
Some Desolate Fortress trash had acted as he pleased. His talent was unprecedented, but his martial strength was not yet enough to shake the world.
For now, he was nothing more than a worm.
“Bring him here.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master spoke softly.
The Sect Master sat in the grand preceptor's chair with one hand propping up his chin. His lustrous white hair appeared silver as it flowed down.
His expression revealed nothing. At the very least, he did not appear to intend to execute the young Grand Preceptor on the spot.
‘That cannot be allowed.’
The Third Apostle thought so.
This lowlife from Desolate Fortress was quite dangerous. His innate talent could not be measured, and his disposition was just as unruly.
Few in the world would dare behave so viciously before the Sect Master, and he possessed talent that few in the world could match. He would grow into someone difficult to control.
-Cut off the budding threat.
The Third Apostle used Qi-Carrying Voice Transmission. It was a technique for sending exceptionally secret sound transmissions to several people at once.
It took but an instant. Enraged senior figures were rushing the young lowlife, but the Blood Masters would struggle to handle him.
He wielded martial arts imbued with dharma power and had even mastered the Mara Roaring Blood Art. Blood Masters who had trained only in the First Blood Art stood no chance against him.
-Sixth Apostle. Step forward.
-Do not order me around.
A voice that seemed to rise raw from the lungs answered.
The Third Apostle shot a hostile sidelong look at the Sixth Apostle, whose body was gaunt and whose features were hard.
There were four Apostles at the Blood Flame Sect’s main headquarters. Excluding the Seventh and Fourteenth Apostles, who had gone out to scout, only two remained.
The Sixth Apostle might as well not have been there. Despite training in Blood Arts, the Sixth Apostle was a fool obsessed with pursuing the ultimate depths of martial arts.
To avoid making a spectacle of himself while breaking the limbs of that Desolate Fortress trash, the Third Apostle would have to step in personally.
The Third Apostle rose.
The Third Apostle circulated the Mara Roaring Blood Art. In an instant, abundant divine qi that had sprouted from the minor meridians throughout his body filled his entire body.
Whoosh!
With a thought, the Third Apostle expelled burning qi forward.
A net of force wrapped around the young Grand Preceptor, who stood calmly as if nothing had happened.
It was an advanced art praised as the equal of the Namgung Family’s Imperial Sword Art. It would feel like an invisible prison.
Would that brat dare take even one move? Drunk on his own talent, he had shown his spirit too recklessly. Even one move was more than he deserved.
‘I will tear off all four limbs.’
The Third Apostle looked at the youth whose eyes had turned a pale sky-blue. The Third Apostle’s eye technique pierced through the radiance in the youth’s eyes.
The movement of the pupils was strange. While blocking the Blood Masters’ attacks, he was looking elsewhere. It was as though he had sunk into his own depths.
What a sight. His mind was focused elsewhere.
“I know your family well. It was an insignificant third-rate martial family.”
The Third Apostle spoke while slowly walking down the steps.
“Xinye County in Henan. The Jeong Family Manor.”
The memory was clear.
“You enjoyed fertile land far beyond your station.”
Because of the complicated situation among the Thirteen Heavens of the unorthodox sects, the Blood Flame Sect had needed to cooperate with the sword demons of the Tyrant Sword Sect.
They had ordered them to weaken the power of the accursed World Tree, clear away the troublesome third-rate family, and burn the land.
The Sect Master had approved it as well. In short, that lowlife had posed as a Great Master before the enemies who had destroyed the Jeong Family Manor.
“Did you know your late father, the lord of the Jeong Family Manor, was a renowned philanderer in Henan? They say he had countless romantic affairs with every sort of young lady. With that handsome face of his, he even seduced your mother. Everyone knows how petty the former Divine Sword Squad Leader was, but when I saw that, I thought him a gentleman. He spared the scoundrel who took Ma Yeon-jeok’s estranged daughter as his second wife.”
Laughter colored the Third Apostle’s voice. It was ridicule.
“Because your father was a rogue, you were born low. That remains true even if you are Ma Yeon-jeok’s maternal grandson. We planned to spare you alone, fearing that the decrepit old man might beg the Lord of Desolate Fortress for revenge, yet you repaid the Sect’s grace with enmity.”
The moment the Seventh Apostle’s left eye had been taken, every secret agent of the Blood Flame Sect had been mobilized.
They had even threatened the Hao Clan, through which the lower classes exchanged information. They had demanded to learn everything about Seom-ye of Desolate Fortress.
It was laughable. Someone spared to prevent future trouble had become another source of trouble. Such were the mysterious grudges and debts of the martial world.
“You modified the First Blood Art well.”
The Third Apostle’s voice roughened. Martial power that had reached an Apostle’s realm boiled up through his throat.
“Now I have no need for your worthless arms and legs. Your mouth alone will suffice. I will slice into you with large needles, starting beneath your fingernails. Once I flay strips from your skin, even your insolent words will turn polite.”
Clang!
The lowlife was handling the Blood Masters’ combined assault rather well.
Moving in a trance, he turned and struck out with his hands. His movement technique was fluid.
Inner energy circulated with astounding finesse through every acupoint in his body, coming forth as a calm aura.
He unleashed force waves through the Mara Roaring Blood Art, smashing the Blood Masters’ heads without hesitation as though wielding martial arts imbued with dharma power.
It was shocking all over again. This was someone who could not be allowed to grow any further.
“Move aside.”
At the quiet command, the Blood Masters withdrew. A path opened in an instant. The Third Apostle walked toward the young Grand Preceptor.
“The level of one’s martial arts encompasses one’s experience in the martial world. People are the same. They grow stronger as the years pass. Your meager instincts have yet to blossom. That is to say, I can defeat you in one move.”
Though the Third Apostle knew the youth was not listening, he continued speaking.
The Third Apostle intended to sever the limbs of a rising talent who might have left a great mark on the martial world. It could not help but stir a strange feeling.
“One move. The moment you try to block it, you will be slain. Know your place as one born low.”
That was when it happened.
Rumble!
The sky suddenly trembled. The Third Apostle doubted his own senses.
Even after reaching such a supremely high realm, he wondered whether his senses had deceived him.
They had not.
Boom!
The second tremor was different. Something had broken. For an instant, it felt as if heaven and earth were being remade.
The Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation immediately came to mind. If that intuition was right, heaven and earth truly were being remade.
It was an ancient wall that had defended the main headquarters for centuries. The destruction of the Two-Flame Blood Spirit Formation meant the collapse of the Blood Flame Sect’s heaven and earth.
“Moon Spirit Divine Technique!”
Behind him, the Sect Master, who had been watching leisurely, shot to his feet. The dignity of an absolute master had vanished from his bearing.
Craaaash!
A white storm swept in. Fragments of the shattered barrier whirled through the air.
The Third Apostle immediately sensed it with his far-reaching aura sense.
Energy scattering in every direction, along with the wind of the outside world, bore down upon the main headquarters.
Waaaaah!
It was the sound of martial-world mongrels flooding in from all directions.
What had the Seventh and Fourteenth Apostles been doing? They had gone out to scout with several elite Blood Masters. There was no way to know what had happened to them.
It did not matter now.
The Third Apostle fell into panic. So did the supreme masters of the main headquarters, who could sense the destruction of the formation.
Those who could have called themselves strong anywhere in the world all stared upward.
Someone was descending from the distant sky.
In an instant, a figure that had vanished as if dissolving into the wind appeared on the ground.
Light green hair and flowing robes radiated an otherworldly vividness, as though they did not belong to reality.
“......”
A woman who seemed like a descending fairy touched down softly.
Yet the presence rising from her entire body was nothing like that.
The bodies of the Blood Flame Sect’s masters stiffened.
The higher one’s martial level, the more profoundly one felt that fear.
She was no fairy. She was King Yama of the underworld.
Step.
She took one peaceful step, as though out for a stroll. The hem of her grass-green martial robes brushed the ground with a soft rustle.
When had she drawn it? Light flowed down the precious sword she held raised to the side and seeped into her luminous eyes and pale skin.
It felt as though the sunlight had grown unusually bright.
“Cra... zy......”
The Blood Flame Sect Master muttered.
Those who weighed the affairs of the world had facial-feature portraits of absolute masters engraved in their minds.
Her face was foremost among them. Regional warlords and major martial factions alike kept her facial-feature portrait foremost in their minds.
Even the royal families of small kingdoms were no different.
“The Lord of Desolate Fortress...?”
The Third Apostle’s murmur carried doubt.
The situation did not feel real.
The same was true of a beauty no facial-feature portrait could possibly contain. Her peerless beauty delayed recognition.
No.
Her face did not matter.
When the Lord of Desolate Fortress slowly took another step, the Third Apostle was finally struck by a cold shock, as though an icicle had pierced the nape of his neck.
‘The Sect is in danger!’
Pressure that seemed to silently push space away sliced through the Third Apostle’s skin in layers.
The martial power before him was beyond measure.
“Step forward!”
The Third Apostle ordered the sect’s senior figures.
Swish.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress moved.
She allowed those wretches no more time.
The moment the Third Apostle widened his eyes and shouted, she was already delivering a sword strike directly before him.
Was it an Earth-Shortening Art, the technique of immortals that narrowed the ground? Her movement technique was unreal, as though she had become the wind.
Her pure white sword rippled like a transparent breeze.
Thud.
The Third Apostle’s head fell.
It was an end unbefitting a notorious supreme master.
A name that had crossed the vast Central Plains, traveling from province to province, faded away in vain.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes widened. He suddenly emerged from his trance.
The scene before him matched what his upper dantian’s aura sense perceived.
‘I didn’t see the move.’
Jeong Yeon-shin guessed it had been the same for the Third Apostle. The Third Apostle had died without perceiving her attack.
The Third Apostle must have known only that death was upon him.
Jeong Yeon-shin saw only the hand she raised. The sword’s path never entered his sight.
An absolute master. Or a peerless master.
The meanings differed, but the feeling was the same.
No matter who they faced, they would hold the advantage. There was no one in the world who could rival them.
‘They said the World Tree fruit was not something that could be seized by force.’
The gossipmongers had been right.
The tree said to bear the most divine spiritual medicine in heaven and earth would endure forever under her protection.
“......”
A deathly silence covered the inner courtyard of the Sect Master’s Hall.
A heretic had intruded upon the banquet and slain the Third Apostle, who stood second only to one and above ten thousand.
Yet righteous outrage depended on the opponent. The silence deepened.
Only the shouts and momentum of martial artists outside rose higher.
Step.
The Blood Flame Sect Master suddenly descended before the Lord of Desolate Fortress.
The blood-red long robe embroidered with a golden dragon fluttered a moment later. Sweeping his white hair behind his back, he opened his mouth.
“This is our first meeting.”
“I have nothing to say to a criminal.”
No emotion touched the Lord of Desolate Fortress’s voice.
The same was true of her sword.
The instant a pale sword light flashed without warning, blood burst from the Blood Flame Sect Master’s neck.
The Blood Flame Sect’s supreme masters nearby sucked in breaths.
Fresh blood from an ancient absolute master was flowing as easily as in a dream.
Yet he did not die immediately. The Blood Flame Sect Master had already retreated half a step.
It was deeply significant. He had reacted to the sword strike. He had properly executed an evasive footwork technique.
“Heh heh.”
The Blood Flame Sect Master’s mouth twisted as he made a phlegmy sound. His bright-red lips stretched into a wide smile.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin saw it clearly.
The wound on his neck boiled and rapidly regenerated, a sight more grotesque than his smile. He was a Grandmaster of Blood Arts.
His regenerative ability was on an entirely different level from the Blood Masters’.
At the same time, the two absolute masters vanished. It was as though they had entered another realm. Such inner-energy attainment was beyond imagination.
Boom!
Though it echoed from far away, Jeong Yeon-shin nearly staggered. The shock wave that struck his ears was immense. He still could not see them.
Jeong Yeon-shin swiftly raised qi. There was no need to look inward.
An inner-energy barrier formed over his ear canals in an instant. It was a delicate task.
While studying the Demon-Slaying Azure River Hand and the Mara Roaring Blood Art, his mastery of inner-energy control had advanced another step.
“Sect Master, the Sect Master?”
“The Sect Master is fighting the vile enemy!”
The masters turned their heads toward the rear. It was the mountain behind the Sect Master’s Hall.
A sound that seemed to shake heaven and earth rang out once more. It was like hundreds of thunderclap bombs exploding at once.
An enormous cloud of dust rose.
The initial uproar lasted only a moment.
After that, the booms came only intermittently. The clash of absolute masters had been loud only at the beginning.
‘One breath.’
Jeong Yeon-shin assessed it coolly. He had heard of the realm of peerless masters.
A single breath of an ordinary person was said to be no different from eternity. As befitted masters beyond measure, there seemed to be more evasion and feints than direct clashes.
Jeong Yeon-shin soon dismissed the thought.
“Destroy the evil sect!”
“Destroy Evil, Reveal Righteousness! Slay demons and eradicate heresy!”
The sounds of sword strikes and exploding force waves drew closer. Martial artists had begun attacking the Blood Flame Sect’s main headquarters.
Familiar faces rushed in, casually deflecting their enemies’ weapons.
Cheong Myeong was the fastest. Weiji Myo-hwa and Baek Mir-yeo followed.
Gak Jeong, the Young Divine Monk, was no slower with the Body Movement Scripture. There were even Plum Blossom Swordsmen from the Mount Hua Sect.
It was good to see them. It felt like a bed where his heart could finally rest was drawing near.
“J-Jeong, young hero......!”
Jeong Yeon-shin heard it clearly. Hyeon Won-chang was at the edge of the vanguard.
With a face so thin it looked gaunt, Hyeon Won-chang ran forward. While using a lightness technique, Hyeon Won-chang deftly avoided several sword strikes from Blood Flame Sect members.
At the sight of Jeong Yeon-shin, Hyeon Won-chang even smiled despite looking exhausted. He was still the same comrade as ever.
‘Hyeon Won-chang has recovered his martial arts.’
Jeong Yeon-shin felt immense relief, but his mind raced.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress’s victory came to mind. Yet the Blood Flame Sect Master was also one of the foremost absolute masters in the vast Central Plains.
It was difficult to picture him being defeated so easily.
If the Blood Flame Sect Master put up the resistance Jeong Yeon-shin expected, the casualties would mount. Jeong Yeon-shin knew that from only a quick glance.
“You were the Sect’s calamity.”
The Sixth Apostle, who had begun radiating killing intent nearby, was the true problem now.
The Sixth Apostle looked back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and the martial artists, an immensely threatening sight.
Experts comparable to a Black Uniform Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress were rare.
‘There are no supreme masters here capable of matching an Apostle.’
Even if hundreds of martial artists had poured in from every direction, it was still true.
The same went for the dozens of Blood Masters. Blood Masters from the main headquarters could likely dominate an entire prefecture, not merely a county.
They were rare experts in the martial world.
“Desolate Fortress Squad Leaders are coming!”
Cheong Myeong shouted while sprinting with a lightness technique. It was clearly a bluff.
Jeong Yeon-shin had already checked when his upper dantian’s aura sense awakened. There were no Black Uniform martial artists among the allies.
It was the moment Desolate Fortress’s chronic problem revealed itself. They lacked the manpower to cover the vast Central Plains.
Footnotes:
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