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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator:Bobt
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Jang Geon chuckled.
“If there was such a thing, wouldn’t you have learned it first yourself?”
“Ah, don’t misunderstand. The martial arts I can help with are of the jeong (lowest) grade. Any higher level and my entire family would be executed for a grave crime.”
“Jeong grade, huh…”
As Jang Geon’s expression hardened slightly, Joo Yeo-Rang’s smile deepened.
“Yes. Those are the skills the Imperial Guards are permitted to pass down to outside students. They are also the fundamental skills of the Imperial Guards, and an important stepping stone for those aspiring to join their ranks, giving them an edge over others. As for why I didn’t learn them myself, well, you know how strict they are about taking on students from outside the Imperial lineage.”
“…They place the utmost importance on proven nobility, outstanding innate talents, and above all, absolute loyalty to the Emperor.”
Joo Yeo-Rang nodded.
“I guess I didn’t quite meet those stringent criteria. They said I couldn’t become a student.”
“And what makes you think I would qualify?”
“…Those people owe me a debt. A debt large enough that they would take you as a nominal student and teach you the skills, at the very least.”
Contrary to her, Jang Geon shook his head slowly.
“You keep going in circles. If that were the case, shouldn’t you have become the student instead?”
“Listen carefully to what I’m saying. For me to learn those skills, I would have to completely abandon all the training I’ve done up until now. The jeong grade skills aren’t that insignificant, you know? But you were able to drive out the Jae clan’s warriors without even drawing your sword, so you could probably learn something from them even without formally learning the full curriculum. After all, it’s martial arts that generations of emperors have personally refined.”
Joo Yeo-Rang shrugged as she continued speaking.
“Rather than wasting that debt to learn skills I may not fully grasp, it’s wiser to utilize it in other ways, like I’m doing now. Don’t you agree?”
Jang Geon leaned his elbow on the saddle, squinting at Joo Yeo-Rang with a blank gaze.
It was true that he was tempted by the Imperial Guards’ skills, be they jeong or gab grade. Back in the Central Plains, Jang Geon had paid various martial arts teachers to learn from them, and since arriving in the New Continent, he had been blazing his own trail through imagination and effort.
But the Emperor had been at the pinnacle of the empire for over a thousand years already.
Not every emperor’s martial arts were necessarily the best under heaven. However, to become the Crown Prince, one necessarily required the approval and support of the Imperial Guards. Anyone failing to surpass a certain threshold could never ascend to that position. And even after becoming Crown Prince, if one fell short of the Emperor’s standards, they would be immediately dethroned.
The Emperor was a being created through the perfect union of all the world’s finest elixirs, teachings from the most exceptional martial artists of the Central Plains, an outstanding innate quality and bloodline descended from Emperor Gaozu who defeated the Chu army and the rebel king Xiang Yu, and the most powerful will to become the sovereign ruler.
And the first task an Emperor undertook upon ascending the throne was to review the Imperial Guards’ martial arts curriculum. Even the lowest jeong grade skills would contain insights that a true master could learn from. Moreover, by taking him as a nominal student, there would be no need to interrogate the origins of the skills later.
Joo Yeo-Rang’s helpers seemed to be retired Imperial Guards or those affiliated with them.
After a moment’s contemplation, Jang Geon felt it wouldn’t hurt to lend a bit more aid and gain some exposure to the Imperial Guards’ skills.
“So where are these people who are going to help you?”
Upon hearing Jang Geon’s words, Joo Yeo-Rang’s face flushed, sensing his change of heart.
“About two days’ journey from here. There’s a valley and a river in between, so we can cover our tracks.”
“Then let’s get going quickly. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Sure, I’ll lead the way.”
She nimbly approached and grabbed onto Jojo’s saddle.
“…What are you doing?”
“My horse died. That bastard Jewunseong did it. I’ll have to impose on you until I can get a new one.”
With that, she hopped up behind Jang Geon, sitting reverse cowgirl style. Then she turned her head and flashed a sly smile at the bewildered Jang Geon.
“Don’t worry, I’m light. Right?”
She lightly smacked Jojo’s rump, but the plump horse just snorted, seeming rather pleased to have a beauty riding on his back.
“Shall we go?”
Seeing Joo Yeo-Rang and Jojo so self-assured, Jang Geon shook his head slowly and nudged the horse’s flanks to signal him forward. And so they set off, one facing front and one facing back, riding double in an odd arrangement with their backs leaning against each other.
*
Up in a tall tree, Jewunseong frowned as he watched the departing pair grow smaller in the distance. Perched on his left forearm was a magnificent hawk.
The black-bodied bird had a white head, with crimson markings trailing down from its fierce eyes – a beautiful hawk known as a Bloodwing, an exotic creature found only in the New Continent. It served as an important emergency messenger for the Jae clan. Jewunseong had retreated not only because he realized he could not defeat Jang Geon, but also because a signal had arrived via this messenger.
Jewunseong had just received an important message from his clan through this avian courier.
“Lord…?”
When he remained silent for a long while after receiving the message, the black-clothed masked figure crouched on a neighboring branch tentatively spoke up. Only then did Jewunseong let out a short sigh before speaking.
“…Track them and ambush tonight. But don’t overexert yourselves – for now, just assess their true strength.”
“Understood.”
With those words, the masked figure dropped straight down from the tree branch. As soon as they landed on the ground, the masked figures lying prostrate beneath the tree scattered soundlessly. Even after they disappeared, Jewunseong remained deep in thought, gently stroking the Bloodwing’s head.
“Hmm. A passing mercenary, or an intended contact…”
The hawk seemed content, cooing softly under his caressing hand.
*
Jang Geon stared at a splinter of wood before tossing it into the campfire and taking a seat. He glanced at Joo Yeo-Rang and remarked,
“It’s quite peaceful, building a campfire like this.”
Even as she plucked at her pipa, she answered without stopping,
“We covered our tracks when we crossed that river earlier today, didn’t we? They’ll probably still catch up eventually, but no need to worry excessively. Fretting endlessly in your head is pointless. Besides, I’m not guilty of any crime. If I were to report this to the Martial Arts Alliance or the Imperial authorities, it would only cause them trouble too. I have many connections in Gamsan, you know.”
“So then?”
Here is a continuation of the translation into English past tense:
“They’ll probably try to bribe a nearby Martial Arts Alliance branch chief. Even if they just pretend to detain and interrogate me for a bit, I’ll have no choice but to go along. The real danger will be when we pass through a village tomorrow.”
As she spoke, she suddenly stopped playing and looked at Jang Geon questioningly.
“More importantly, why did you really help me out earlier today?”
“…Didn’t I already tell you?”
Joo Yeo-Rang smiled.
“That you just happened to help me up like someone who tripped on the road? Even though it risked a fight with the Jae clan’s warriors?”
“An amusing analogy.”
At Jang Geon’s curt response, she slowly let her smile fade.
“…You’re a strange one. Usually people like that don’t live very long, dying young. Especially those who carry swords and call themselves martial artists.”
Contrary to her, Jang Geon chuckled.
“And what precisely is considered ‘living long’? Five years? Ten? Even those who carry swords and do bad deeds can’t live that long. The shadows of their own evil deeds will haunt them. In the end, it matters not whether one is good or bad – the lifespan of we martial folk is simply short.”
“Whether good or bad, martial artists all end up cut down in the end?”
“I’m saying the line between good and evil is not so clear-cut.”
Joo Yeo-Rang smiled faintly again.
“Well, you seem like a good one to me, at least?”
Jang Geon gave a wry smile as he tossed another splinter into the campfire. Joo Yeo-Rang watched him with an odd look before resuming her pipa playing.
They had not yet fully escaped the mountain range. Thanks to that, the slightly chilly air and the dense surrounding trees enveloped the small campfire and the pair. Add Joo Yeo-Rang’s pipa music, and it felt more like a casual camping trip rather than being pursued.
It was then that Jang Geon’s ears picked up a sound other than the pipa.
“…That Jewunseong fellow seems to be swifter and more aggressive than you expected.”
At those words, Joo Yeo-Rang stopped playing, looking perplexed. Only after setting down the pipa could she hear the faint rustling noises. Her face contorting, she sprang up and instantly drew the straight sword from behind her back.
“Ah, shit! If this is how the esteemed Jae clan behaves, I’ll report them to the Imperial authorities instead of the Alliance when I get to Gamsan! I’ll turn over my entire fortune to the provincial governor if I have to, but I’ll report this! We’ll see just how almighty these ancient noble houses really are!”
As she unsheathed her blade, the masked black-clothed figures seemed to realize they had been detected, emerging from between the trees. They had already encircled and were closing in on Jang Geon and Joo Yeo-Rang.
Rising with his hand on his sword hilt, Jang Geon quickly took stock of their numbers. There were around ten black-clothed figures in total, but no sign of Jewunseong himself. They had blackened the areas around their eyes and swords, leaving only the whites showing.
Jang Geon and Joo Yeo-Rang swiftly stood back-to-back. Glaring at the encircling black-clothed figures and their blades, she spat,
“Damn bastards…You really want to go there? Looks like you’ve given up on taking me in one piece…”
Undeterred by her curses, the figures slowly crouched down, gradually tightening the encirclement. Once they reached a certain point, they stopped advancing and fixed their sights on the pair.
With the crackling campfire at the center, the circle of black-clothed figures, Joo Yeo-Rang with sword drawn, and Jang Geon gripping his sheathed blade – all fell utterly still in that instant. The only motion came from the flickering shadows cast by the firelight. The once slightly chilly air seemed to freeze taut with their rising tension.
Then, in the next moment, one of the black-clothed figures made the slightest shift in stance, about to move. It was the briefest gap between breaths, right before trained muscles and inner energy explosively unleashed. In that fleeting instant, Joo Yeo-Rang’s thrown dagger flashed out, burying itself in the figure’s chest. Using that as the signal, the other black-clothed fighters charged forward, black blurs trailing behind them.
Simultaneously, Jang Geon kicked the campfire outward.
The single sweeping motion scattered burning embers and ash in a violent spray. The five figures charging at Jang Geon flinched momentarily from the ember shower, three of them immediately plunging through the blazing curtain swinging their swords.
Their blades slashed through empty air. Jang Geon had leapt high, spinning through the air to land behind them. As the two flinching fighters turned in surprise, Jang Geon’s sword flashed free.
The blue-gleaming blade slashed across the torsos of the pair. Blood spurted out a beat later. Having cut those two down, Jang Geon’s eyes found Joo Yeo-Rang beyond the three remaining fighters. She was fending off one opponent while another aimed his blade at her exposed side.
Lowering his stance, Jang Geon channeled inner energy into his footwork and explosive dashed forward. Like a loosed arrow, a slippery eel slicing through the space between Joo Yeo-Rang and her attackers, the force of his lunge transferred fully into his sword stroke.
One black-clothed figure crumpled, blood gushing from his chest. Joo Yeo-Rang, startled by Jang Geon’s sudden appearance at her side, widened her eyes before whipping her blade around to deflect the sword arcing toward his back.
In that same motion, Jang Geon stabbed his sword into the attacker’s gut. With a grunt of expelled breath, he quickly retreated. As he fell back, the remaining black-clothed fighters withdrew as well.
Swords still raised, Jang Geon and Joo Yeo-Rang surveyed their surroundings. It had only taken a few fleeting sword flashes, yet five enemies lay fallen, bleeding out their lives on the ground. Without swift treatment, they would surely die.
Wiping his blade clean, Jang Geon straightened up.
“Will there be more?”
The figure clutching his abdomen slowly shook his head. As he did so, the other black-clothed fighters began backing away.
It was then that Jang Geon spoke up.
“Take your friends.”
The retreating figures froze. Even Joo Yeo-Rang, catching her breath, cried out in disbelief.
“Are you insane? They were trying to kill us!”
Jang Geon sheathed his sword completely. He picked up one of the fallen swords and examined the edge. The blackened blade was quite dull, more like a metal cudgel than a sword’s cutting edge. While a trained martial artist could potentially make it work, this blade still felt inadequate as a dedicated man-slaying weapon.
After inspecting the edge briefly, Jang Geon tossed it aside and repeated himself.
“Take them.”
The figure clutching his gut stared silently at Jang Geon before nodding to the others. They swiftly gathered up their fallen comrades and retreated into the dark woods beyond. Watching them disappear, Jang Geon turned to find Joo Yeo-Rang staring at him as if he were quite bizarre.
He said, “We can’t make camp here anymore. Let’s just pack up and go.”
Joo Yeo-Rang kept her lips tightly sealed as Jang Geon extinguished the scattered embers and re-saddled Jojo, taking up the reins. Only after a long while did she turn to him and say,
“You really are a strange one.”
With that, she abruptly turned and took the lead.
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