WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Chen

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◈ The Martial Genius who Remembers Everything ◈

Chapter 2: The Third-Rate Martial Artist Who Remembers Everything (2)

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"...Senior Brother, what are you doing?"

I was staring at Geumpyo, whose death remained vivid in my memory.

"Geumpyo..."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"Pardon?"

Geumpyo hurriedly searched inside his robes and pulled out a small pouch.

"Don't tell me you ate my taffy?"

"..."

What the hell had I been thinking in my past life?

"Anyway, I'm sorry."

"The taffy's all here... Ah, what is this?"

After easing a little of the guilt I felt toward Geumpyo, whom I hadn't been able to protect in my past life, I asked, "Isn't it class time? What are you doing here instead of attending class?"

Geumpyo looked at me in disbelief.

"You know that, yet you're lying on a bench?"

"I have a bit of a headache."

"You've been using that excuse for a whole week."

"Has it been that long already?"

Still, I had been busy in my own way.

From this moment on, I had to consider every disaster that would occur in the future and figure out why the Taeul Sect fell and when things first went wrong.

"I've been busy..."

"That posture doesn't make it sound very believable."

"I'm serious. I was thinking about our sect's future."

My sect, the Taeul Sect, was a small sword sect near Hefei in Anhui Province.

It had a long history but no traditions. It possessed many martial arts, yet its fighting strength was weak.

Parents comparing a large martial arts school with the Taeul Sect almost always chose the school instead.

If there was one advantage, it was that the Taeul Sect provided one meal a day and held one of the Martial Alliance's One Hundred Eight Peaks seats.

'The bigger question is how we even got into the One Hundred Eight Peaks.'

Our sect had neither martial strength nor wealth, yet it had never been pushed out of the One Hundred Eight Peaks despite never bribing the Alliance's higher-ups even once.

Maintaining a One Hundred Eight Peaks seat gave a sect a degree of protection in territorial disputes and armed conflicts with other martial factions.

No matter the justification, if war broke out between sects, the Martial Alliance's rule was to support the side that belonged to the One Hundred Eight Peaks.

That was why the Taeul Sect could remain somewhat free from the cutthroat competition among Hefei's sects.

Yet this One Hundred Eight Peaks position was also the reason the sect had been destroyed, so it wasn't necessarily a good thing.

How was I supposed to navigate this contradiction...

"Senior Brother!"

"...Hm?"

"The Taeul Sect is doing perfectly fine, so stop worrying and get up."

"...How could a sparrow grasp a stork's lofty intentions?"

"The Busaeng Hall Master is looking for you."

"Why does that guy want me?"

"...Calling the Hall Master 'that guy' is a bit much."

The current master of Busaeng Hall wasn't from the Taeul Sect.

More precisely, Yeonseung belonged to the Gyerong Merchant Group and was the merchant lord's younger sibling. Yeonseung's only boast was having once been a lay disciple of the Mount Hua Sect.

Then why was someone like that serving as a hall master in the Taeul Sect?

Because the Gyerong Merchant Group's lord had planted Yeonseung here as a watchdog, worried that his precious son, who had entered the Taeul Sect as a lay disciple, might learn its "bad martial arts."

This absurdly contradictory situation could be explained by one of the One Hundred Eight Peaks' privileges: Martial Arts Academy special admission.

The first step toward success in the Martial Alliance was entering the Martial Arts Academy.

The regular entrance examination was incredibly difficult, though.

To enter through the special admission granted to the One Hundred Eight Peaks, the Gyerong Merchant Group's pampered young master had joined the insignificant third-rate Taeul Sect as a lay disciple.

To receive the Gyerong Merchant Group's support, the impoverished Taeul Sect had accepted most of its demands.

"If I can't call someone like that 'that bastard,' then what should I call them?"

Geumpyo snickered, as if he found that satisfying.

"Anyway, they said you absolutely have to attend today."

"Hm... Did they say there'd be sparring today?"

"...It seems that way."

Worry crossed Geumpyo's face.

Legalized violence under the name of sparring.

The sparring class was currently the class Taeul Sect disciples hated most.

"Tch. A Mount Hua lay disciple, and that's the best thing he can come up with."

I slowly rose.

They weren't faces I wanted to see, but I couldn't just stand by and watch my fellow disciples get beaten up.

#

Crack.

"Argh!"

The moment I entered Busaeng Hall, I saw a Taeul Sect disciple clutching their head and rolling across the floor.

Saryeon rushed over, examined the fallen child's injury, then glared at Gye Cheolyeong.

For some reason, Cheolyeong mistook that look in Saryeon's eyes and flashed a proud smile.

"How was that? Cool, right?"

That idiot. Tch, tch.

I approached the child Saryeon was helping up.

"Let me see."

Fortunately, there was no wound.

Head injuries were usually more frightening when they didn't bleed, but Cheolyeong didn't have enough strength to cause that kind of damage yet, so there was no need to worry too much.

"When you get home, put a cold stone on it. It'll help keep the swelling down."

"Ah, yes..."

The child wiped away the tears gathering in their eyes and bravely returned to their spot.

"What? You said your head hurt. Are you okay now?"

I shook my head at Saryeon's question.

"No, it got even more complicated, so I came out."

"What?"

Without looking at Saryeon, I spoke to Gye Yeonseung, the master of Busaeng Hall.

"How about ending the sparring class here?"

"What?"

"It looks like quite a few fellow disciples are already hurt."

More than half the disciples sitting around were clutching their heads, shoulders, or arms.

Every one of them had been beaten under the pretense of sparring.

"Jin Sowoon, you show up late and start spouting such nonsense?"

"Isn't this sparring just meant to show everyone how impressive Senior Brother Cheolyeong is?"

"What did you say?!"

I looked at Cheolyeong, who stood proudly beside Yeonseung.

"And Senior Brother Gye. Even if Saryeon has, really, really awful judgment, do you honestly think Hong Saryeon would like a scumbag like you? You sure dream big."

"Jin Sowoon, you dare!"

Cheolyeong's face turned red, and just as he looked ready to lunge at me, Yeonseung raised a hand to stop him.

"Is that all this sparring looks like to you?"

Fire burned in Yeonseung's eyes. I continued anyway.

"I don't know what Busaeng Hall has even been teaching lately. Isn't it just physical training and sparring every day?"

"That's all for actual combat..."

"At this rate, it'd be better to practice forms alone."

"What...?"

Yeonseung's face turned so red it looked ready to burst.

"You dare say that in front of me, a disciple of Mount Hua?"

"Not a disciple, a lay disciple, right? The same as Senior Brother Gye, sword arts learned with money."

I had only stated the truth, yet Yeonseung somehow looked even angrier.

Maybe that was why people said the truth could be violent.

"Y-you bastard!"

Killing intent began to seep from Yeonseung's body.

Not only Saryeon and the other disciples, but even Cheolyeong instinctively stepped back in fear.

Strangely, I wasn't afraid at all. It wasn't as if my martial arts were superior to Yeonseung's.

'Then again, compared to the people I faced in my past life, this killing intent is child's play.'

Having roughly accepted that, I kept talking.

When you couldn't hit someone with skill, you hit them with words. That was the Sojeong Unit's way.

"Honestly, I wish both the Hall Master and Senior Brother Gye would stop doing this. At least then, my fellow disciples and I could learn the Taeul Sect's martial arts."

"Hah, haha. You think learning from the Taeul Sect's hall masters would be better than learning from me?"

"There isn't anything you can teach us in the first place. Lay disciples aren't allowed to pass a sect's martial arts on to others. And you don't have any real combat experience, either."

"Ugh..."

Yeonseung began to tremble.

Saryeon moved close and whispered, "What are you doing, Senior Brother? Have you lost your mind?"

"I don't know. It's the truth."

Damn it. I didn't know anymore.

A future with nothing but despair.

Me, unable to do anything.

If Yeonseung killed me with a sword here, wouldn't Cheolyeong have no choice but to leave the Taeul Sect as well?

Then maybe one of the Taeul Sect disciples could go to the Martial Arts Academy through special admission.

'Though would one person really change anything?'

Even if they joined the Martial Alliance as low-ranking martial artists, they would only end up as meat shields.

Still, to take an active role in the Orthodox-Demonic War, I needed to enter the Martial Arts Academy.

I couldn't let Cheolyeong, who wanted to enter the Academy to rise through the Martial Alliance, steal that opportunity.

"Hah... Is that what you think? Fine. You must have said all that because you have the skill to back it up. Get out here right now! Prove it in front of Cheolyeong!"

This was how it always went.

When every argument ended with a display of strength, there was nothing left to say.

In the past, I would have backed down by now.

'Fine. I should teach them a lesson.'

Even if it was meaningless venting, didn't it gain meaning if it made me feel better?

I held out my hand to Saryeon.

Saryeon hid the wooden sword behind their back and said, "...Senior Brother, if you fight now, you'll really get badly hurt. Just apologize."

"Why should I apologize when I didn't do anything wrong?"

I used the White Phoenix Hand to snatch the wooden sword from Saryeon's hand and stepped forward.

"Jin Sowoon! Take your opening stance!"

"Why would I need an opening stance against Senior Brother Gye? Let's just begin."

I rested the wooden sword on my shoulder, signaling that I was ready.

My careless response clearly didn't sit well with Cheolyeong, whose expression was now little different from Yeonseung's.

"Jin Sowoon! Is that any way to speak to the Hall Master?"

"Senior Brother, let's start already."

"You really need to be taught a lesson."

Cheolyeong began to take an opening stance that did not belong to the Taeul Sect.

'The Three Shadows Sword Art. I got beaten senseless by that sword art in my past life.'

It was a martial art taught by Hyeonwon Su, a wandering martial artist famous in Shaanxi Province.

I had memorized the forms and techniques the instant I saw them, but in my past life, I lacked the ability to evade and counter them.

Now, though, I was a former low-ranking Martial Alliance martial artist and a member of the Sojeong Unit, with the shining career of serving as a meat shield against the Demonic Cult's various armed forces, including the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Unit.

I wouldn't be beaten one-sidedly by twenty-year-old Cheolyeong.

"Begin!!"

The instant Yeonseung spoke, Cheolyeong advanced with deft footwork, shooting forward as if sliding across ice.

It definitely wasn't Taeul Sect footwork.

Cheolyeong's first move deliberately targeted my eyes.

Like any wandering martial artist's sword art, its sword forms were exceedingly rough and its momentum savage.

No wonder the Taeul Sect's young disciples had been thrown into confusion.

'But.'

Compared to those Demonic Cult bastards obsessed with killing, this was all child's play.

Cheolyeong also lacked Hyeonwon Su's resolve to stake his life on the line and the desperation to make even a single move succeed.

The same martial art could be performed in completely different ways.

There was no need to use any martial arts I had acquired in my past life.

The Lesser Heaven Sword Art, which every child in Busaeng Hall knew, would be enough.

Tap.

I knocked Cheolyeong's sword upward with the flat of my blade, then unleashed three forms of the Lesser Heaven Sword Art in succession.

Thud, thud, thud!

In an instant, my wooden sword caressed Cheolyeong all over.

"Ghk!"

Cheolyeong's eyes widened as if suddenly brought to his senses.

I swung the Lesser Heaven Sword Art again and pressed Cheolyeong hard.

"Huh..."

"...Wow."

"That's the Lesser Heaven Sword Art, right?"

Startled exclamations burst from the children at the familiar forms.

Cheolyeong, on the other hand, panicked and failed to respond properly to each familiar move.

The moment he failed to continue the sequence and exposed an opening...

"I see an opening, Senior Brother!"

I brought my sword down on Cheolyeong's head with all my strength.

Crack!

A scream rang out along with the sound of something splitting.

"Aaaagh!"

Cheolyeong dropped his sword, clutched his head, and began rolling across the floor.

"Aaargh!"

After a brief silence, the Taeul Sect children began shouting.

"Wowww!"

"Quiet! Quiet! Quiet!"

Yeonseung, who was examining Cheolyeong, bellowed while releasing a murderous aura.

"Everyone back to your places!"

Frightened by the aura of an adult with powerful martial arts, the children quickly returned to their places and swallowed hard.

"Aaagh, my head!"

Cheolyeong, rubbing his head, felt something strange and lowered his hand to look at it.

A hand stained red.

Yeonseung saw it too, then glared at me with murder in those eyes.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm asking how you defeated Cheolyeong."

"I won with the Lesser Heaven Sword Art."

"The Three Shadows Sword Art lost to the Lesser Heaven Sword Art of all things..."

Yeonseung abruptly stopped speaking.

No matter how much the Gyerong Merchant Group controlled the Taeul Sect, there were lines that shouldn't be crossed. Yeonseung barely kept from crossing one.

"There is a vast difference in form between the Three Shadows Sword Art and the Lesser Heaven Sword Art. I'm asking how you overcame that gap."

Yeonseung changed the subject.

Put simply, the fundamental question was how the Lesser Heaven Sword Art, nothing more than a basic martial art, could defeat the Three Shadows Sword Art, which had produced masters at the Peak realm.

"Where is there anything absolute in this world? If someone skilled in a martial art is inadequate..."

As I spoke, a realization struck me like a blow to the head.

-The Demonic Cult will return.

-The Martial Alliance will fall to the Demonic Cult.

-The Taeul Sect will fall with it because it belongs to the Martial Alliance.

-And in the middle of it all, I, with my uselessly perfect memory, will be used everywhere and eventually die.

Would all that remain absolutely unchanged as well?

"You can't even answer properly, so you must have used some trick."

I frowned at Yeonseung's bullshit, which I heard while I had been lost in thought.

"...What are you talking about now?"

"The gap between a basic sword art and an advanced sword art cannot be overcome. That is common sense to those who learn martial arts."

"Is that what they teach at Mount Hua? That you should make excuses when your skill falls short?"

"You dare...! Take that back right now!"

"Was I wrong?"

"Fine! Then bridge that gap against me."

"..."

Contempt filled Saryeon's and the other disciples' eyes.

No matter how generously you looked at it, this was an adult throwing a tantrum at a child.

"Are you serious?"

"Naturally, I won't use internal energy. I will face you with forms alone. What, can't you prove it?"

"Before that, shouldn't Senior Brother Gye be taken to a physician?"

Cheolyeong, who had been screaming about the pain, stopped crying as though expecting Yeonseung to avenge him and shook his head as if nothing were wrong.

"I-I'm fine."

You idiot, you're still bleeding.

"I'll ask again. Can't you prove it?"

Maybe I had been steeped in defeatism before I even began.

My situation was certainly as hopeless as it had been in my past life.

Yet the me of my past life and the me of now were fundamentally different.

Like I had said, where was anything absolute?

If everything had been predetermined, then the Sojeong Unit capturing the Demonic Cult's Sect-Protecting Dharma King in the first place would have been impossible.

'That's why I won't run away in fear like before!'

I raised my head and looked at Yeonseung.

"What happens if I prove it?"

"What?"

"What will you do if I prove it? An adult is throwing a tantrum at a child, so it makes no sense for the child to gain nothing from it."

Yeonseung's face hardened.

Yeonseung looked genuinely ready to kill me.

"What do you want?"

What did I need right now?

If I wasn't going to give up on my chance, I needed time more than anything else.

"If I win, say I've completed Busaeng Hall. I won't attend Busaeng Hall anymore."

"...Fine."

Yeonseung went to one side and picked up a wooden sword.

The severity of Yeonseung's aura made it obvious this wouldn't end with just one broken arm.

I held my wooden sword upright.

Come to think of it, what Sect Leader Hong Mungi had offered the Gyerong Merchant Group was a chance at entering the Martial Arts Academy.

That meant we, too, had an opportunity to compete with Cheolyeong for special admission whenever we wanted.

Yet none of the Taeul Sect disciples, myself included, had ever thought of challenging for that opportunity.

The result of failing to protect it and giving up was the sect's destruction.

I couldn't sit still and recreate that terrible nightmare.

"Begin!"

The sword art Yeonseung, a Mount Hua lay disciple, favored most was Mount Hua's ultimate art, the Plum Blossom Sword Art.

The paths of the Plum Blossom Sword Art already began unfolding in every detail inside my mind.

Then came the weaknesses in those paths.

Jegal Cheongi, an unmatched genius, had researched the martial arts of the Nine Sects One Gang and the Five Great Clans to make them capable of fighting the Demonic Cult. He created the Shattering Form, the Ascendant Form, and the Demon-Subduing Form, tailored to each faction.

The problem was that there was no way to deliver the Jegal Three Forms to the Nine Sects One Gang and Five Great Clans, which had scattered and splintered across the world.

That was when I, who possessed a uselessly perfect memory, took on the task.

'Even if my internal energy is lacking, Cheongi's Shattering Form can't possibly fail.'

Yeonseung unleashed the Plum Blossom Sword Art.

Without drawing on internal energy, there was no fragrance of plum blossoms, but every movement was graceful beyond measure.

I saw the Shattering Form for the Plum Blossom Sword Art rise in my mind and immediately drove into its weakness.

"You bastard!"

Just as I had done to Cheolyeong, Yeonseung's wooden sword came down toward my head.

Thud!

"Hup!"

Yeonseung dropped the sword in midair and fumbled before barely catching it again.

"W-what is this...?"

The Shattering Form for the Plum Blossom Sword Art unfolded.

Yeonseung used the Plum Blossom Sword Art he was most confident in, but a sword art that had already been shattered could not carry any force.

Had Yeonseung sensed something was wrong?

I felt internal energy flow into Yeonseung's wooden sword.

'Too late!'

The Shattering Form that had been unleashed shattered the Plum Blossom Sword Art fueled by internal energy and knocked Yeonseung's sword away.

"!!"

The wooden sword flew from Yeonseung's grasp in an instant.

I struck down hard at Yeonseung's head, and Yeonseung raised both arms to block it.

Crack!

"Khk!"

With a dull sound, the wooden sword that had flown from Yeonseung's hand struck the wall a moment later.

Thud. Clatter.

Yeonseung's wooden sword rolled across the floor.

Yeonseung had barely blocked my wooden sword with both hands.

Once again, a brief silence settled over Busaeng Hall.

"Wowww!!"

The Taeul Sect disciples rushed out all at once and surrounded me.

Yeonseung stared at his own hands in disbelief.

I slowly looked around.

This had definitely never happened in my past life.

'Right, this is different from my previous life. From now on, everything will be different.'

Footnotes:

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