Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time - Chapter 89

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

◈ Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time ◈

Episode 89: Instant-Kill Martial Art

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The destruction of the Wise Teacher Sect was a major incident. It had been the talk of Wuchang for days.

The influence of martial sects that held regional power extended even to the lives of ordinary people. This was even more true of the unorthodox sects.

An unorthodox sect established in a city would increase the people's tribute burden three or fourfold.

They collected protection money under the pretense of maintaining public safety. Copper coins, silver coins, daily necessities, even people, nothing was spared.

As the famine dragged on, the authority of the government offices had plummeted.

For the topic of conversation in Wuchang to change, an ordinary incident would never be enough.

"A blood demon?"

"Keep your voice down. I heard it wasn't just any blood demon. Those Namgung Family martial artists, in an instant..."

"That's right. They say it was a noble bloodline of the cult. With martial prowess like that, it makes sense. Watch your neck. You never know when you'll become a sacrifice for Blood Arts."

Groups of four or five gathered in one corner of the market, speaking in hushed voices.

"Hah... The nights will be quiet now. I'd better stay home as soon as the sun goes down."

"You'll have to do that for a while."

"Quiet...!"

A middle-aged person whispered with a startled expression, as though even their breath had escaped in surprise.

A hush was spreading toward them from afar.

Three people walked down the street.

The woman in the middle drew every eye.

With skin as white as jade and a deep blue martial outfit, she looked like a celestial maiden descended into the mortal world.

Everyone present knew who she was.

She was Namgung Mi, the Namgung Family's Changnyeong Flower Lord, recently praised by the locals for her beauty, martial prowess, and accomplishments.

"Then those people are..."

Someone muttered.

Rumors had already spread far and wide.

They spoke of Namgung Mi, who had lost her escorts to a Blood Flame Sect noble and been left all alone.

They said the White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin, and Seom-ye, Jeong Yeon-shin, had accepted her into their party to protect the person they were bound to face in a life-and-death duel.

The Wuchang martial artists who had been there reportedly admired their generosity.

Desolate Fortress's outstanding young talents.

Attention was inevitable. If they did not suffer an unfortunate death away from home, they would become masters counted among the greatest in the martial world.

Word of the strange company formed by those who would risk their lives against each other gradually spread.

"Your epithet was Seom-ye, wasn't it?"

Namgung Mi suddenly spoke. Her tone was calm, as though she were looking down from above.

She no longer seemed concerned with the eyes around them. Perhaps she knew there was nothing she could do about her situation.

It was not the tone she used before outsiders.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer.

They had already exchanged vicious blows. The boy could not be shameless.

It felt strange to answer her casually simply because she did not know his bare face.

Besides, she was someone who would soon die. He had no wish to speak with her.

"Now even a nobody is getting on my nerves?"

Namgung Mi said, one corner of her mouth raised crookedly. Her soft footsteps and bearing were leisurely.

The dark blue hem of her practical martial outfit looked almost like a court robe.

Even though she surely knew that protection was merely a public pretext and that she was effectively a captive of Desolate Fortress, she remained at ease.

"..."

Yeon-shin merely glanced at her.

It seemed to be her nature. She had been raised like royalty in Southern Zhili.

As a direct descendant of the Namgung Family, she had built a solid world of her own.

Even after suffering such a great ordeal, her attitude toward the world had not changed.

She did not know that the demon-masked figure in the Pure Blood Robe had been Jeong Yeon-shin. It was not something even most Desolate Fortress martial artists could imagine.

'How insignificant.'

The boy wondered how he appeared in Namgung Mi's naturally arrogant eyes.

Judging from the temperament he had encountered before, she seemed to see him as little more than a nuisance who had provoked the life-and-death duel between Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Family.

'There's no reason to reveal it. This identity could be useful in other missions as well.'

Jeong Yeon-shin kept an indifferent expression. He did not regard Namgung Mi as a person.

Only Namgung Hwa-shin's face visibly tightened as he watched his half-sister's words and actions.

"Namgung Mi. Mind your manners. Young Hero Jeong is the direct disciple of the Lord of Desolate Fortress. His status is no less noble than yours."

"Our Hwa-shin has become better at jokes than martial arts."

Namgung Mi's lips curved upward.

"The disciple of an undying freak is noble? The word noble must have become a joke."

"What did you say?"

"How long will the Lord of Desolate Fortress remain above the clouds? The major sects of the martial world are not fools. The Huangbo Family, the Blood Flame Sect's main altar, and our own family. Who will be next? His actions are absurdly arrogant and excessive. Do you think the Eight Great Families and the Thirteen Heavens will simply wait and watch?"

"..."

Namgung Hwa-shin fell silent with a grave expression.

To Yeon-shin, he looked far too soft.

Was it because he had been raised as the head of Sword Night since childhood and subjected to sorcerous loyalty conditioning?

It was frustrating to see him lose a minor argument despite having his mother's enemy before his eyes.

Namgung Mi gave a faint laugh, turned away, then glanced at Yeon-shin.

"Little boy. You're the same. You haven't inherited all of the true divine martial arts, have you? Those tied to the imperial family would never hand over everything they possess. How are they any different from our Eight Families, where blood is everything? You pitiful half-measure."

"The Eight Families sounds strange."

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke calmly.

"What?"

"There are seven now. No, Six Families has a better ring to it. What do you think? They are things that shrink easily enough anyway."

"You..."

It seemed she had not expected that reply. Namgung Mi's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth with a scornful smile.

Yeon-shin quietly cut her off.

"Honor what a formal martial contest means. Even if your Namgung Family's character is lowly, the reason we show you courtesy is because the standing of the person we measure martial arts against determines our own. If the one who will contend with me in life and death has no weight, how empty would that be?"

"..."

"If you don't understand, feel free to keep talking. It will only mean that is the extent of your capacity."

Yeon-shin finished speaking and turned away again.

For an instant, he saw Namgung Mi's lovely brows twist deeply, but he only thought the conversation had gone on too long.

She was not worth more than ten breaths of his time.

"A half-measure talking about capacity?"

Namgung Mi replied once with a sneer, then remained quiet for some time.

No matter how arrogant and unreasonable she was, she was still the daughter of a prestigious martial family. She seemed to have nothing else to say to someone who spoke of standing.

After that, the expression on her face whenever she looked at Yeon-shin changed slightly.

Her lofty manner, as though she were looking down on someone beneath her, had not changed. Yet Yeon-shin occasionally sensed her examining his entire body.

Namgung Mi, the Changnyeong Flower Lord. What had she felt?

For a moment, the demon mask came to mind, but he dismissed the thought. The Blood Flame Sect noble in the Pure Blood Robe and Demon Wings Seom-ye were distinct personas.

'Even my manner of speaking is different. I had not said that to provoke her.'

He decided there was no need for concern.

A moment later, the boy apologized to Namgung Hwa-shin.

"What I said about the Namgung Family..."

"No, it is all right. It was rather satisfying, in its own way."

Namgung Hwa-shin laughed cheerfully and waved a hand. Both of them ignored Namgung Mi's derisive snort.

That was how the strange party came to be.

The Namgung half-siblings, Jeong Yeon-shin, and even the Seventh Apostle, whose red eyes gleamed from afar.

Their relationship would last only until the life-and-death duel against the Namgung Family.

Namgung Mi and the Seventh Apostle had to die. Yet they said the winds of the dusty martial world were merciless. Perhaps not just those two, but all four of them would perish.

'The Seventh Apostle, the Clear Qilin.'

Yeon-shin recalled his two targets. He hoped that he and Namgung Hwa-shin would complete their mission safely.

* * *

To reach Huizhou in Southern Zhili, where the Namgung Family was located, they had no choice but to pass through Hwangju.

That was the route of the relay stations. It was the only road that left Wuchang in Huguang and led to Southern Zhili.

The party entered a large inn.

"It would be best to stay here for the night, then push forward without stopping. It seems troublesome rumors are spreading."

"You said Huizhou lies just beyond this road. I agree."

After speaking with Namgung Hwa-shin, Jeong Yeon-shin walked toward an empty table.

Namgung Mi and Namgung Hwa-shin followed at once.

All four of them shared the table. Yeon-shin and Namgung Mi sat side by side, while Namgung Hwa-shin took the seat across from them.

It was a deliberate arrangement. Yeon-shin trusted the eyes of Namgung Hwa-shin, who had trained in the family's supreme eye technique for a long time.

The White Qilin's gaze was sharp as he carefully watched his half-sister and enemy. He looked ready to strike at the slightest suspicious movement.

Namgung Mi did not seem to care. After ordering food from the server, she stared quietly at the copy of the Diamond Sutra Yeon-shin had taken out.

"A Buddhist scripture? You fancy yourself a Buddhist?"

As always, Yeon-shin did not respond.

They were close to Huizhou now. That meant they were nearing the Namgung Family's sphere of influence.

News of the martial contest was surely more widespread here than anywhere else. They had to be wary of unexpected variables.

Even this inn was boisterous.

"Business is booming, truly booming. Martial artists are gathering from across the martial world."

"It is the martial contest between Desolate Fortress and the Namgung Family. Where else can we see martial artists of such exalted skill?"

"Will the Divine Sword Squad Leader and the Namgung Family Head truly test their strength against each other? I can't believe it. I think I'll feel this way until I see it myself."

"The Namgung Family must win. If Desolate Fortress performs well..."

"Even prices in Hwangju will be shaken. If our merchant company is to survive, it is best if nothing changes."

It seemed to be an everyday topic here.

There was no reason for them to speak as though they wanted Desolate Fortress martial artists to hear.

They said such things regularly, so all manner of conversation reached Yeon-shin's party.

Those who had already noticed Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin's martial robes had fallen silent.

Those who had not continued to chatter.

"It hasn't been long since the Namgung Family's Young Family Head revealed his sword, has it? I heard the opponent is a rising talent named Seom-ye. They say he rendered great service during the Blood Flame Sect incident."

"Is this not a contest over who will stand at the peak of the martial world in the future? I wonder which side is truly the foremost among the rising generation."

"The Young Family Head is the Young Family Head. How can you judge him by calling him a rising talent?"

Namgung Mi, who had been listening from the seat beside Yeon-shin, let her lips curve smoothly.

She turned slightly to look at him, then spoke with a quiet laugh and a faint smile.

"None of what they say is wrong. To your eyes, which see only what is near, our Namgung Family may seem no different from the unorthodox sects. Yet to the common people, we are the orthodox sect without equal under heaven. When floods come, we release food to provide relief. When the riffraff of unorthodox sects run wild, Namgung martial artists step forward."

"..."

"A rising talent cannot withstand the Imperial Sword Art of the main family's direct line. My elder brother has cultivated that sword art to a point where the depth of his attainment is difficult to gauge. Is that not enough reason for your defeat? And there is nothing our Namgung Family cannot do for the people's welfare..."

Namgung Mi spoke with a faint trace of amusement.

"It means you may close your eyes peacefully beneath my elder brother's sword."

"Doesn't it tire your mouth, spouting such meaningless things?"

At Yeon-shin's indifferent reply, her smile deepened. The expression on her white face was strange.

"Or perhaps."

"...?"

"You could surrender first and pledge yourself to the main family. I'll only let you wash my feet. I mean it."

Wash her feet. It was what Yeon-shin had said when he pretended to be a Blood Flame Sect noble.

'Is she testing me?'

Or was this simply another bout of meaningless cruelty?

Yeon-shin was considering the intent behind her words.

Whoosh!