WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈
Chapter 8: Recognition (4)
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The unconscious opponent was dragged away, but the problem arose when it was time to begin the second and final match.
‘There are many monsters in the world.’
Yeon-shin thought. It felt as though he had encountered a martial artist who would one day become an absolute master like the Tyrant Sword Sect Master.
A man dressed entirely in white walked steadily toward him from the opposite side.
His slender jaw was as finely shaped as the blade of a treasured sword, while his pitch-black eyes, sharply focused as though reflecting his resolve, bore the air of a swordsman.
His flawless skin, as immaculate as his white robes, complemented his high-bridged nose and gave him an air of nobility.
He was a peerlessly handsome young man. Was he about twenty years old?
‘White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin.’
He knew without asking. There could not be anyone else like him here.
Even the masters of Desolate Fortress, seated in a wide circle, showed interest.
“I wonder which group will take him. The squad leaders will fight over him.”
“He seems stronger than us. As expected of Namgung.”
“Will we finally witness the Boundless Firmament Sword today?”
They spoke as though his passing were already assured. Those waiting in the flower garden opposite even looked at Yeon-shin with pity.
‘He looks about five years older than me. He does not seem like an insurmountable mountain.’
The aura emanating from Namgung Hwa-shin was palpable.
The flow of his qi was exceptionally refined.
He had formed the major circulation and spread his inner energy throughout his body’s fine meridians for at least several years. Having apparently taken spiritual medicine as well, he possessed truly formidable inner energy.
The masters of Desolate Fortress continued to marvel.
“It is never easy for a rumor to cross several provinces.”
“His reputation is indeed well deserved.”
Yeon-shin acknowledged it as well.
‘My body is better. The rest, not yet.’
Namgung Hwa-shin came to within five steps of him.
Even his courteous fist salute carried the inaccessible dignity of a prestigious family.
“I am Namgung Hwa-shin of the Namgung Family. I have mainly cultivated the Boundless Firmament Sword, our family martial art, and Infinite Steps. I look forward to this.”
“I have cultivated the Jeong Family Youth Technique at Jeong Family Manor in Henan.”
Yeon-shin clasped his hands and returned the greeting respectfully.
Namgung Hwa-shin responded with another slight bow, then drew his sword.
With a clear sword resonance, the blade’s gleam spiraled into the crisp morning air.
It was dazzling.
Drawing and sheathing a sword could serve as measures of a swordsman’s level. Namgung Hwa-shin’s silver draw, cutting diagonally through the air, was beautiful enough to behold.
Yeon-shin did not draw his sword.
The essence of the sword technique he had recently been refining was unpredictability.
The key was a single sword strike launched at an unpredictable rhythm.
If it landed well, he might be able to catch even that dragon-like rising talent off guard.
He remained standing as he circulated the qi within his body.
“Begin.”
The examiner, who alone stood among the martial artists of Desolate Fortress, spoke.
At the same instant,
Claaang!
One half of Yeon-shin’s sword, with his arm already extended to the side, snapped off and flew away.
Holding his sword, now broken in half, he slowly lowered his arm.
An uproar rose like wildfire from the flower gardens on both sides.
“What happened...?”
“What was that? What happened?”
“Did the boy lose?”
“White Qilin! What a truly terrifying swift sword!”
The prospective entrants reacted in confusion or confidently reached their own conclusions.
“...”
The masters of Desolate Fortress were as quiet as mice.
Though they were warriors of the martial world’s foremost power, they had seemed lax until then. At this moment, however, they wrapped themselves in stern auras.
Without saying a word, every master kept their eyes on Yeon-shin. They looked only at Yeon-shin.
Namgung Hwa-shin lowered his sword and spoke.
“I lost.”
A declaration of defeat. As though it were only natural, the martial artists of Desolate Fortress began speaking one by one.
“Jeong Yeon-shin, was it? What a truly terrifying swift sword!”
“I heard Namgung Hwa-shin only just passed twenty.”
“The boy looks at least five years younger.”
“There was a hidden dragon in Henan. His age is even more frightening.”
“It seems he has not learned how to place qi in his sword. Shall I teach him?”
All eyes turned to the martial artist who had spoken last.
“Annihilation Squad, do not act rashly. Is there any place that would not covet someone like him?”
“Do not order me around. It would be better for him to come to Annihilation than rot among your Demon Wings.”
“Enough.”
The examiner spoke.
Seeing the area fall quiet, Yeon-shin found it unexpected.
He had thought that those assigned dirty work would be the lowest in rank, but that was not the case.
The superiors handled work that carried responsibility? He felt he understood the nature of Desolate Fortress.
“Namgung Hwa-shin, prepare for your next match. And you, did you say you were Jeong Yeon-shin from Xinye?”
“Yes.”
“Leave by the north side. There is another flower garden there, so wait in it.”
“Understood.”
Yeon-shin turned toward Namgung Hwa-shin and gave a fist salute.
“I hope you will exchange a few moves with me next time.”
“...That is what I wish to say. Let us meet again.”
Namgung Hwa-shin smiled.
His expression was quite peculiar. Rather than any dark emotion, only interest and enjoyment seemed to rest at the corners of his mouth.
‘He is different from those people who call themselves my brothers.’
His character was on an entirely different level from the Jeong siblings.
The instant the match began, Yeon-shin struck Namgung Hwa-shin’s sword with the Swift Sword Formula pushed to its limit.
He had realized that he had no chance in a prolonged battle.
However, Namgung Hwa-shin seemed to have intended to go all out even against a boy, and had already filled his sword with qi.
That was how Yeon-shin’s sword broke.
It could be called Yeon-shin’s mistake for recklessly unleashing swift sword strikes, yet Namgung Hwa-shin had admitted defeat instead.
He seemed to believe that he had lost because his move had come far too late.
‘Life at Desolate Fortress will be much better than at Jeong Family Manor.’
After gathering the fragments of his broken blade, Yeon-shin headed north.
* * *
The flower garden where those who had passed the Desolate Exam gathered.
Those already settled there looked at him with surprise.
Unconcerned, Yeon-shin recalled his single strike.
The balance of weight between both feet, the overlapping qi of the Ultimate Realm, and the explosion of contracted muscles. For now, he could see no way to advance further.
The sword was still the problem.
‘Did they say they belonged to Demon Wings? That martial artist was right.’
During the bloodshed at Jeong Family Manor, he had not clashed swords directly.
The vagabonds he had faced on the road from Xinye County to Xiangyang were not skilled enough for him to worry about their qi.
Desolate Fortress was different.
He had now stepped into the heart of the martial world.
‘World Tree fruit.’
He had to eat it. He could not die young like this.
‘They said I had not learned how to place qi in a sword?’
Of course not.
Jeong Family Manor was merely a third-rate sect pretending to be a martial family in Xinye County.
He had never seen anyone in the Jeong family who disliked boasting.
If anyone in the family had known how to use such an art, there was no way he would not have known.
‘Now that I know, that is enough.’
It was enough simply to hear that such a thing existed. The instant he learned of it, he understood the method.
From the hand gripping the hilt, qi flowed into the half-broken blade. That was not the end.
At the same time, he realized that inner energy could move freely through the iron forming the blade. Following that new sensation, qi embraced the sword blade.
Simply filling a sword with energy? No.
He realized that, using qi as a medium, he could become one with the sword.
His consciousness, which had become immersed in a single sword, naturally advanced.
The sword was calling to him, toward a higher level of sensation.
Woooong.
The sword vibrated. It sounded as though it were crying on its own.
“Sword resonance!”
The martial artists in the flower garden sprang to their feet. Yeon-shin’s eyes were already closed.
Even as the surroundings grew noisy, he paid no attention and savored the sensation of the sword crying within his grasp.
‘So this is the Unity of Body and Sword. It truly feels as though it has become one with my body.’
The sword techniques he used in this state would be new as well. What power would the Swift Sword Formula, now alive with precision, display?
Ever since passing the Desolate Exam, he had done nothing but gain one thing after another.
World Tree fruit was still far away, but he was more than satisfied with his present achievement.
‘Desolate Fortress. It really is a good place.’
When he opened his eyes, he saw Namgung Hwa-shin smiling gently.
His gaze fell upon Namgung Hwa-shin’s hand resting on his sword hilt.
It seemed Namgung Hwa-shin had remained nearby to ensure no one disturbed his enlightenment. He had stood guard for him.
“Congratulations on your achievement.”
Namgung Hwa-shin gave Yeon-shin a slight nod. He was so proper that Yeon-shin wondered whether a person could truly be this upright.
“I did not realize you had stood guard for me. Thank you. And...”
“...?”
“Congratulations to young hero Namgung on passing the Desolate Exam as well.”
For the first time, Namgung Hwa-shin looked blankly surprised, then burst into laughter.
Some watched enviously as Yeon-shin formed a friendship with the White Qilin, but Yeon-shin’s gaze had already returned to his sword.
* * *
After waiting for an hour, he finally saw Hyeon Won-chang as well.
Hyeon Won-chang had said they had taken the exam several times, and they too had passed.
It was rather amusing to see them repeatedly tap the dragon pattern on their hero’s headband.
“I have already chosen an epithet. What do you think of Desolate Fortress Divine Hero?”
“A wondrous hero of Desolate Fortress? Can one choose one’s own epithet?”
“Why not? The martial world is a world of shameless people who introduce themselves with names they chose themselves. If I introduce myself as the Desolate Fortress Divine Hero, that will become my epithet.”
“Then all the swordsmen in the world would already be Divine Swords and Sword Stars.”
Hyeon Won-chang pretended not to hear. Yeon-shin chuckled.
‘An epithet.’
A name given by people of the martial world when one displayed exceptional martial prowess or became the subject of a notable event.
Unless one repeatedly committed evil deeds, an epithet was usually both a martial artist’s identity and a great honor.
Like Cliff Edge Sword, Tranquil Fist, and White Qilin.
“It seems there are already people calling Young Master Jeong by another name.”
It was Namgung Hwa-shin.
“Me? Taking the exam is all I did.”
“Seom-ye. If martial artists of Desolate Fortress call you that themselves, it is already an epithet of the martial world.”
“A talent for light? They merely see a child’s sword as an entertaining trick because it is a little fast, do they not?”
Namgung Hwa-shin smiled, revealing his white teeth.
“A little fast, you say. If you put it that way, what becomes of me, who lost the timing of my breath? Besides, there are many cases where an epithet represents a martial artist’s potential. Congratulations.”
“...Thank you.”
Yeon-shin answered with a somewhat uneasy expression.
Seom-ye Jeong Yeon-shin. It was a name he had never imagined while sitting in the horse stance at Jeong Family Manor.
The Desolate Fortress Divine Hero beside him looked at him enviously.
“Gather around!”
It was the examiner from the Training Hall.
“Once you pass one more gate, you will become martial artists of Desolate Fortress. Let me tell those who will pass in advance. In this fortress that stands alone in the martial world, you will learn and train, carry out missions, and share food and lodging. Maintain proper dignity and become martial artists worthy of your positions.”
The twenty who had taken the Desolate Exam remained quiet.
Yeon-shin could guess why.
Passing the second test was welcome, but they had said the final gate was an interview with the Lord of Desolate Fortress.
The living history of the Great Ming Empire, an unparalleled master sometimes named the strongest martial artist under heaven.
Even for Yeon-shin, meeting such a mythical figure alone was no light matter.
Led by the examiner, they passed through the splendid palace complex without anyone speaking.
“...”
Even after entering the enormous main fortress at the center of the vast Desolate Fortress, it remained that way.
They were called up one at a time and came back down looking as though their souls had left them.
Though it was called an interview, the intervals were extremely short. It was enough to make one wonder whether they merely looked at the Lord’s face before coming down.
At last, it was Yeon-shin’s turn.
The staircase seemed to wind endlessly upward.
‘They told me to go all the way to the top.’
After taking what felt like well over a hundred steps, he reached the summit.
An ancient, enormous door stood there. When he approached, it opened on its own.
The vast office was truly strange. It was filled entirely with trees, branches, and foliage.
Massive tree trunks twisted and rose naturally, forming desks, tea tables, and what appeared to be a bed.
It was a giant tree, fully alive. Clear sunlight streamed directly through the broad opening in the wall.
“I am Jeong Yeon-shin.”
He spoke without wavering.
There was someone whose light-green martial robes appeared to have been dyed with water from leaves.
Partially hidden by thin branches covered in leaves, the figure sat leaning against the tree and slowly raised her head.
Their eyes met. Something beyond even a shudder surged up to the crown of his head.
It was an emotion even he could not understand. Perhaps it was wonder and awe at the fact that such a person existed in the world.
‘The greatest under heaven, the Lord of Desolate Fortress.’
Her ears, sharp as the tip of a divine sword, and her beauty, rare even in the human world, were not the essence of her.
Her deep-green eyes were overwhelming. As he met her gaze, it felt as though his soul were being drawn in.
Eyes that seemed to contain the principles of all phenomena under heaven.
He felt strongly that even the Tyrant Sword Sect Master, the absolute master in his memories, would be unable to escape those eyes.
She was an existence on another level, so much so that it seemed strange an interview with her would take any time at all.
Saaa.
A breeze lifted her long green hair slightly and brushed across Yeon-shin’s cheek.
The Lord of Desolate Fortress tilted her head to one side.
“You... are that child’s descendant.”
She spoke.
Footnotes:
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