WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 85: Battle for Supremacy (4)

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Immediately after beginning his strange wager with the Seventh Apostle, Jeong Yeon-shin wanted to reach his destination as quickly as possible.

For a long while, he and Namgung Hwa-shin rode their fine horses in silence.

Only the pounding of hooves and the fierce wind striking their faces filled the air.

“...Young Hero Jeong. You do not seem to have much of an appetite.”

“You seem the same, Young Hero Namgung.”

Even when they let their horses rest and tore into dried meat, tension hung between them. They kept their aura senses constantly alert.

Whenever they looked back, they saw the Seventh Apostle smiling in the distance. Her beautiful smile sent chills down their spines.

The aura senses of Desolate Fortress Blue Uniform experts were keen. The same was true of both men.

Still, neither could afford to relax around a supreme expert lurking three hundred jang away.

At nightfall, they took turns keeping watch.

On a cloudy night, Jeong Yeon-shin drew the Desolate Sword.

It was the dead of night, steeped in silence.

The countless stars above seemed to lie beneath the darkness, while the moon hid behind translucent gray clouds.

Only dreamlike moonlight drifted faintly down. The clearing beyond the brush was still.

The boy thought of Cheong Myeong.

Swish.

Beneath moonlight diffused through the clouds, Jeong Yeon-shin’s body swayed briefly.

A light step stirred a faint breeze. In the next moment, he began a silent sprint.

He ran without a sound, as though melting into the night air.

‘She is asleep.’

He found her at once. It was the Seventh Apostle. She had removed her broad red Pure Blood Robe and draped it over herself from the shoulders down.

Curled atop a thick branch, she slept.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes darkened. Even if he tried to imitate a clumsy assassin, she would notice at once.

Without hesitation, he executed True Step. One step was enough.

Qi exploded soundlessly from the Yongquan acupoint in his sole, sending out a fierce ripple.

A violent gale rose as he launched himself upward.

Whoosh!

In an instant, he had risen to the Seventh Apostle’s eye level. He could feel her long breath against his cheek.

Their eyes met. Her crimson eyes slowly opened, curving into faint crescents.

Just as expected. He brought down a swift sword strike with his right hand while raising qi through his left arm.

It was his fourth Hand Arts technique, which did not yet have a name. He used Mara Roaring Blood Art and Demon-Slaying Azure River Hand at the same time.

The strain of deploying his power this way was gradually becoming familiar. Given even a small insight, he felt he could properly enter its gates.

Swish!

The Seventh Apostle’s foot flew at him. Though she kicked upward while lying on her side, it was astonishingly fast.

Her right foot thrust forward as if crushing the air, knocking aside his sword blade.

The cold edge of the Desolate Sword, striking toward her neck, was forced outside Jeong Yeon-shin’s guard.

Swoosh!

Ignoring it, he thrust out his left hand. The palm technique had been primed like a fire bomb. He drove it straight at the Seventh Apostle’s face and detonated it.

Boom!

The tree broke apart with a loud crack. The recoil was so strong that pain shot through his shoulder blade.

Jeong Yeon-shin was still in the air. The instant his palm technique fired, he was flung away like a leaf caught in a typhoon.

He landed softly and drew his sword back. The Desolate Sword slid into its sheath along a blurred arc.

“Your moves are becoming more refined by the day. Amazing, our Grand Preceptor.”

A languid voice, as though she had not fully awakened, came from above. It was the Seventh Apostle. She had evaded even the palm technique.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.

“...Qi rises from the Zhongfu acupoint as though in revolt, then remains in the Huozhong acupoint with the intent of a storm.”

He recited the fifth and sixth mnemonic formulas of the Mara Roaring Blood Art. It was what he had to say.

Then he turned away.

One technique per opening attack was the unwritten rule of the agreement between the Seventh Apostle and Jeong Yeon-shin.

Among experts, the first move was everything in an ambush. No one who allowed a second strike would be an inner-energy master.

‘The swift sword combination was useful. It can cover the weakness of my palm technique.’

As he reviewed his attack, Jeong Yeon-shin glanced back.

The Seventh Apostle was already leaning against another branch and waving at him.

She lay on her side, propping up her head with one arm, completely at ease.

Brushing aside her fallen hair, she gave him a sweet smile.

“Come back soon.”

“...”

He gave no answer and turned away.

In the distance, Namgung Hwa-shin stood atop a tree with his arms folded.

His silent figure beneath the dim moonlight looked like a painting.

He was guarding against the Seventh Apostle breaking their agreement and attacking. If necessary, he intended to join forces with Jeong Yeon-shin.

Thud!

Namgung Hwa-shin descended with his superb Body Movement Scripture and spoke.

“Your moves have certainly become more precise. It feels as though I am witnessing the birth of a Divine Technique firsthand.”

“A Divine Technique...”

Jeong Yeon-shin trailed off, slightly embarrassed, then shook his head.

“I do not know whether I can complete it within the remaining fourteen moves.”

“She is a supreme expert capable of contending with a Black Uniform expert from the main fortress. You exchange life-and-death strikes with her every day, so whatever the outcome, young hero, you will gain much.”

“I can only thank you for always looking after me. You have become entangled in my debts and grudges.”

“You give me too much credit. It is a rare experience, and my eyes have been opened.”

Namgung Hwa-shin smiled with his usual warm expression. Sweat glistened on the palm that had rested beneath his folded arm earlier.

While watching the Seventh Apostle’s response, he had kept his hand on his sword hilt. Over the past few days, they had built a bond no weaker than that of the Demon Wings.

As always, Jeong Yeon-shin gave a small bow. The White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin, showed remarkable loyalty. He was unlike the Namgung Family members Jeong Yeon-shin had known.

“You do not look like yourself, young hero. Speak freely. We may both become wandering ghosts at the Seventh Apostle’s hands.”

Namgung Hwa-shin spoke with a smile.

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded and spoke.

“You said we should stay a day in Wuchang. I am curious about the sister you mentioned. Namgung Mi, the Changnyeong Flower Lord.”

“Ah...”

Namgung Hwa-shin let out a quiet exclamation and smiled bitterly.

“It is nothing much. The problem is that my mother was an assassin raised by the main family.”

The damp wind unique to a summer forest brushed over their skin.

Above them, the moon slowly emerged from the clouds as they gradually cleared, seeming to wear a mocking smile.

“An assassin...?”

They were walking slowly back toward the camp. Jeong Yeon-shin asked without thinking, then closed his mouth.

“You heard correctly. Many sects claim to walk the orthodox path, but a group that wields power cannot realistically possess chivalry. Wealth, interests, land, martial force. How could a power that holds all of these pursue only righteousness? The facade of an orthodox sect is no more than a means of protecting its interests. Behind the scenes, they raise unseen swords.”

Namgung Hwa-shin continued with a calm expression.

“There is a place called Sword Night. It handles the tasks that the main family’s well-known Celestial Firmament Sword Corps cannot. Assassinations, kidnappings, things like that. My mother was an assassin of Sword Night, but one day, she caught the Family Head’s eye.”

“...”

“That was how I was born. My talent was decent. The Family Head wanted to make this illegitimate son the leader of Sword Night. Unlike my other illegitimate siblings, my half brothers and sisters, I was not cast aside. He even granted me spiritual medicine, which earned me the hatred of my direct-line sister. She said there was not even enough inner energy for her to claim.”

“The Changnyeong Flower Lord, who is our opponent in this duel?”

“Yes. Sword Night is the sword and servants of the Namgung Family’s direct line. Before my eyes, she subjected my mother to every sort of humiliation. My mother seemed not to care about such things. She was an assassin by nature.”

“...”

“During the Mid-Autumn Festival two years ago, I received word of my mother’s death. Her body could not even be returned from a mission. Such things were common in Sword Night, but not to me. She had been sent to assassinate a direct blood relative of a Lord of the Thirteen Heavens... an absurd mission. Later, I learned it had been the work of the Changnyeong Flower Lord, who frequently visited the Young Family Head’s Celestial Firmament Hall. She had secretly stamped the acting Family Head’s seal.”

“Forging documents? Even a third-rate sect would not dare do that.”

“The family was turned upside down. More than the deaths of several Sword Night assassins, it was her private use of the main family’s swords that mattered. The Changnyeong Flower Lord received a punishment of one hundred days of closed-door cultivation. For someone of the direct line, it was a severe punishment. Yet she entered with a smile, as if what she had done were amusing.”

“...”

“I left the family after that and entered the main fortress. Escaping was difficult. I could not even dream of revenge. I was pathetic and weak. Sword Night’s method of training, which forces collateral branches to obey the direct line, reaches the realm of sorcery arts. Like the blood demons of the Blood Flame Sect, they cannot bring themselves to raise a sword against their masters. Look.”

Namgung Hwa-shin raised his hand. It trembled violently.

“I only imagined cutting off my sister’s head.”

The life he had endured beneath years of oppression revealed itself in the tremor of his hands.

Even his lower lip quivered pitifully. Nothing remained of the spirit one would expect from a promising young martial artist.

Yet the way he plainly spoke of the past was fitting for the White Qilin.

He put into words what he had to overcome. That was enough.

Jeong Yeon-shin said nothing.

He did not know that kind of pain. He had been that way since birth. Had he not been hated in a village where superstition ran rampant for killing his mother by being born?

That was why he understood loneliness. Jeong Yeon-shin sympathized in silence.

Perhaps that was enough. Namgung Hwa-shin gave a faint, grateful smile and leaned against a tree.

They had reached the camp. The two tethered horses watched them by the campfire.

“Rest first.”

“Then I will.”

Their exchange was calm.

Namgung Hwa-shin volunteered for the first watch. Jeong Yeon-shin did not refuse and lay down.

Using his travel pack as a pillow and his long robe as a blanket, he closed his eyes.

“...”

The campfire crackled. A sharp smell rose with the sound of burning wood. The firewood seemed damp.

‘Should have dried it with Samadhi True Fire.’

Jeong Yeon-shin fell asleep with a faint regret.

The occasional snorts of horses that had yet to sleep, the Seventh Apostle’s gaze hidden in the moonlight, and the stinging sensation of his palm technique taking shape more firmly with every passing day.

That was how the boy’s journey continued, until they reached Wuchang, where the second relay station was located.

* * *

Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin stayed a day at Wuchang’s relay station. Ming relay stations also provided lodging.

They could save money while still sleeping comfortably.

There were not many cities with relay stations along their mission route.

Namgung Hwa-shin had predicted that Namgung Mi, whose every action broke convention, would make a move, and Jeong Yeon-shin accepted his advice. They decided to rest for one day.

“What is that?”

Namgung Hwa-shin asked. Jeong Yeon-shin, reclining on the bed across from him, raised his head.

“The Diamond Sutra.”

He held up the Buddhist scripture bound into a book. He had brought it to study inner-energy methods.

Namgung Hwa-shin nodded as though he understood.

‘The Chapter on Adorning the Pure Land.’

Jeong Yeon-shin turned his gaze back to the scripture.

Demon-Slaying Azure River Hand, which he had created after listening to Shaolin monks expound the Dharma, was tremendously effective.

Having acquired dharma power, he was searching for a way to merge it with the Lord of Desolate Fortress’s Moon Spirit Harmonization Formula in a new form of Static Training.

If he succeeded, the palm technique he was currently refining would also advance another step.

It would greatly reduce the time needed to execute the palm technique.

If inner energy imbued with dharma power could circulate constantly, like the effects of Jeong Family Youth Technique that always filled Jeong Yeon-shin’s body, it would be enough to activate only one Blood Arts technique.

It would advance his martial prowess itself.

─Let the mind arise without dwelling anywhere.

As Jeong Yeon-shin read the passage, he suddenly raised his head. Namgung Hwa-shin did the same from across the room.

They had sensed the commotion outside. The voices shouting were loud.

Wise Teacher Sect, a fight, Namgung, Namgung Family...

“She has arrived. Let us go.”

Namgung Hwa-shin spoke. He and Jeong Yeon-shin were already wearing gray hemp garments.

They had placed the Desolate Fortress martial uniforms, which drew attention wherever they went, in their travel packs. They had anticipated something like this.

The two went outside.

A qi-infused voice rang through the marketplace.

“Here, the Changnyeong Flower Lord of the Namgung Family has cut down the leader of an unorthodox sect! A Namgung Family branch will be established where Wise Teacher Sect once stood, so all of you may rest easy and continue with your livelihoods!”

It did not take long for Jeong Yeon-shin to undermine her achievement by mentioning the servants, then return with Namgung Hwa-shin to the relay station.

As they discussed how to proceed over the next two days, they heard further news.

Namgung Mi, the Changnyeong Flower Lord, had responded decisively.

She had already crippled the dantians of every Wise Teacher Sect servant left alive. She had even damaged their mute acupoints, making them unable to speak.

Then she climbed the platform once more.

“They say those who keep company with ink become black. They were all in league with them. They too had learned Wise Teacher Sect’s wicked martial arts.”

The relay-station servant, who had received ten copper coins, relayed the details.

He was a bright-eyed boy who looked remarkably intelligent.

Namgung Mi wept sorrowfully, her beauty like that of a celestial fairy, and none could ignore her words.

“They were servants of those who acted as though they owned the city. They were indistinguishable from disciples. They were not common people like all of you, but a band of unorthodox sect members who shared in Wise Teacher Sect’s scraps. Yet they must have been your children, friends, and fathers. I punished them with a sorrowful heart. Even if you condemn me for showing no mercy, I will gladly bear it.”

Yet because Wise Teacher Sect had been such a vicious unorthodox sect, no one blamed her.

Her words and actions, which seemed to sweetly melt people’s hearts, had a great effect as well.

The servants’ relatives instead had to tread carefully around those who cheered.

The authorities, including the Prefect, did not step forward.

That was despite the fact that labor within the government’s administrative jurisdiction had been impaired.

It proved that the Namgung Family’s influence did not end with the martial world.

Instead, word spread that the fame of Namgung Mi, the chivalrous heroine, was growing.

Namgung Hwa-shin’s expression became grave.

“This will be a problem even if the main fortress wins the duel.”

“If we sever their heads in a life-and-death duel, Desolate Fortress will at least draw resentment throughout this region.”

Jeong Yeon-shin answered.

Namgung Mi had begun acting as both a celestial fairy and a ruler in Wuchang.

In a short time, her reputation in the surrounding area had risen without end. Jeong Yeon-shin could still vividly see her distinctive, confident smile.

‘Desolate Fortress must always keep public opinion on its side.’

Even if it had justification, it had destroyed the Huangbo Family, a prestigious orthodox family.

Now it sought to cut down even the Namgung Family’s leadership. It had acted in a way that left it with nothing to say if the orthodox martial world tried to unite.

The Grand Chief Steward had said that Desolate Fortress’s leadership feared the Martial Alliance.

To avoid giving the martial forces across the world an excuse to form a massive alliance and attack Desolate Fortress, it had to prevail in every mission through fair and righteous justification.

“There is no reason to rashly respond to a contest of legitimacy. The Divine Sword Squad Leader, the Elder Council Head, the head of the Desolate Ma family... The elders will handle that themselves. We will be recognized for our accomplishments if we only do what we can.”

“Young Hero Jeong...?”

“Is it not common to use one enemy against another in any conflict?”

Jeong Yeon-shin rummaged through his travel pack. The sensation that met his hand was chillingly soft.

It was the feel of precious heavenly silkworm silk. Slowly, he drew out a long robe red as blood.

It was the Pure Blood Robe of a Blood Flame Sect Apostle.

“We only need to find a mask. A demon mask would be best.”

“Surely you do not mean...?”

“Young Hero Namgung, tell me. Would it be acceptable to show no mercy?”

Footnotes:

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