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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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In a world with chimpy-spouting otaku reincarnators, adorable baby dragons with cute little shark teeth, and pyrokinetic prodigies who shot fire from their fingertips, why wouldn’t there be flying swords?
In unexpected situations, limiting one’s options by clinging to preconceived notions of what was “possible” or “impossible” was dangerous.
What happened, happened. He couldn’t afford to restrict his thinking.
So, he searched for the flying sword, even as the town of Zeshik County was being torn apart by rampaging water dragons.
He hadn’t been entirely unsuccessful in his search. He had at least managed to discern a pattern in the water dragons’ behavior.
They seemed more interested in causing property damage and drawing attention than directly harming people.
And while they ignored ordinary civilians, they actively engaged with martial artists, drawing their attention.
Why?
If they were simply attacking indiscriminately, he wouldn’t think much of it, but this targeted approach was strange.
Whoever was controlling the flying sword and manipulating the water to attack the town wasn’t simply trying to destroy it.
The attack was a prelude, a distraction. There had to be another motive.
“My house! My village! How are we supposed to live now?!”
“What the?! I came out to watch the commotion next door, and now my house is collapsing?!”
“Pray! Pray to Sakra Devanam Indra!”
“Grandpa! That’s just a story! If you don’t want to end up in a coffin, stop talking nonsense and run!”
He watched as the villagers looked on in despair, their homes and livelihoods being destroyed.
He briefly wondered if disaster relief funds existed in the martial world,
but that wasn’t his priority right now, so he shook his head and refocused his attention on finding the flying sword.
-Clang~! Clang~!!
And then he found it. Or rather, it found him.
A gleaming white blade, its hilt a beautiful azure, like a dragon’s scale.
A magnificent sword, undeniably a treasure among blades, approached him, its hilt wagging excitedly, like a puppy greeting its owner.
-Clang~! Clang~!!
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Dragons, like most creatures, had a habit of sleeping with their treasured possessions.
It provided a sense of comfort and security, and deterred thieves, but the primary reason was to mark their territory.
By imbuing their treasured possessions with their aura, they sent a clear message to other celestial beings, to the Eight Legions of Devas: This is mine. Don’t touch.
And so, Gwahae, following her dragon instincts, had slept curled up on top of her most prized possession, Mancheon, unintentionally marking her territory.
-Clang~! Clang~! Clang~!! (Friend~ friend~ let’s play~!!)
But Longyuan, sensing the familiar dragon aura after so long, felt only excitement and joy, not hostility.
Furthermore, the aura emanating from the human was remarkably similar to that of Ao Shun, one of the Four Dragon Kings who ruled the four seas,
the Dragon King of the North Sea.
It was as if a human, bearing the blessing of the daughter of the Spirit King of Water, had appeared before a high-ranking water spirit playing in the human realm.
Or rather, the granddaughter of the Spirit King, but Mancheon, unaware of these details, was bewildered, unsure of how to react to the sword now circling him excitedly.
‘Wh-what is going on?!’
He had intended to summon Wang Meiyang the moment he found the sword, to avoid the risk of losing it, but
he hadn’t expected the sword to approach him. He was caught off guard.
How was he supposed to react to a flying, potentially lethal weapon circling him like an excited puppy?
‘What’s the right move… wait, a puppy…?’
An idea struck him.
It was a risky move, but if this sword truly was the cause of the chaos, manipulating the water and attacking the town, he couldn’t just ignore it.
He took a deep breath, flexing his hand, waiting for the right moment.
-Clang~? Clang~!! (What’s wrong? Let’s play in the water!!)
The sword hummed, its intent unclear, but he felt a sense of urgency.
He steeled his resolve and reached out towards the hilt.
Pat, pat.
-Clang—?!
He gently patted the hilt, as one would a dog or a cat, focusing all his attention on the task.
“Good boy~ good boy~ who’s a good sword~ yes, you are~.”
The blade trembled as he patted it. How would it react?
Would it stab him? Or not? That was the question.
A tense moment passed, and then he had his answer.
-Clang-! Clang-! Clang~!! (I like that! More! Do it again!!)
Instead of impaling him, the sharp blade nuzzled against his palm, humming contentedly.
“Phew…”
He let out a shaky breath.
He had gambled, risking his life, standing within striking distance of a potentially lethal weapon.
And he had won.
He couldn’t be certain, couldn’t completely relax his guard, but for now, it seemed the sword meant him no harm.
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“Wh-what is the meaning of ?!”
Wang Meiyang stared at the scene before her in disbelief.
Longyuan, one of the Ten Swords of Heaven, a masterpiece of the legendary swordsmith Ou Yezi, a sword acquired by Wang Chongyang, the founder of the Quanzhen Sect, and passed down through generations of Quanzhen sect leaders…
was now… acting affectionately towards Mancheon.
-Clang~ Clang~! (Human, let’s do that thing again! That thing!)
“I don’t know why, but it seems to like me. What should I do now, Master?”
Wang Meiyang shook her head, trying to make sense of the situation, as her disciple, who had somehow managed to tame the sword, looked at her expectantly.
She couldn’t just stand there dumbfounded; her disciple had, after all, done well.
“Longyuan, return to me. Playtime is over.”
But before Wang Meiyang could finish speaking, a seductive voice, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps, called out to Longyuan.
-Clang… clang…
“Ah?! Ing-ing! Don’t go! I haven’t even decided on a name for you yet!!”
Longyuan hesitated, glancing back at Mancheon, but then returned to its master. While it liked Mancheon, it was also quite fond of its current owner.
A group, dressed in matching white robes, approached unhindered, walking through the chaos of the water dragon attack.
And at the forefront…
-Clang-! Clang-!!
Wang Meiyang clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to attack as she watched Longyuan, her former master’s sword, fly towards her enemy.
“Senior Sister.”
Her senior sister, who had betrayed the Quanzhen Sect
and joined the demonic factions, now the Seventh Elder of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, Ma Yang, smiled beautifully, suppressing her own desire to rush forward, as she heard her name, as she met those beautiful golden eyes.
“It’s been a while, Junior Sister.”
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Tang Wu, the Third Elder of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, frowned, seeing Ma Yang’s gaze fixed solely on Wang Meiyang, ignoring Nangong Xiaoshao, their target, standing behind her. He stepped forward.
He was tired of wasting time.
-Ting~!
But he was forced to retreat a step as an unexpected projectile whizzed past his nose, embedding itself in the wall behind him.
It was a metal ball, infused with killing intent, a precise and deadly attack that would have killed him if he weren’t a member of the Sichuan Tang Family, renowned for their mastery of hidden weapons.
He swiftly extended his left hand.
-Clang-!!
A hidden blade, launched from his sleeve, met the incoming projectile, sparks flying as they collided in mid-air.
He saw the bird masked man on the roof, who had thrown the projectile, beckoning him with a flick of his wrist.
It was, of course, Zhang San-peng, servant, bodyguard, and assassin of the Sima family.
A clear provocation.
Or rather, a desperate attempt to draw a dangerous opponent away from his charge. But to those unaware of his true motives, it was a challenge.
“Hah!”
A strange, unsettling smile, a mixture of amusement and rage, twisted his lips.
He addressed Ma Yang’s seven disciples, who were watching their master nervously.
“Your master has lost her mind. Take care of Nangong Xiaoshao.”
“And what about you, Third Elder?”
“I’ll deal with the crow.”
With those words, Tang Wu leaped onto the roof, pursuing the bird-masked man who had dared to challenge him with hidden weapons.
And he realized something.
Ma Yang’s seven disciples, chosen according to her… preferences, all bore a slight resemblance to the little blonde girl she was so fixated on.
She was a crazy old hag, even by the standards of their faction.
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Battle everywhere huh!
Cute sword, freakish lady!