896 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

South of the Jianping hills, an unowned stone grave stood solitary and forlorn. The decaying wooden sign behind it was marked with illegible characters, weathered by time. Who could this belong to, lying beneath a shallow stone grave, not deeply buried? While the specifics were unknown, it was clear that the stone grave was in dire peril. For an unruly young woman was fiercely excavating the grave. “Hey, vagabond sister? You shouldn’t be doing that to a grave—” “Huh? Why not?” Qing instinctively picked up well-sealed supplies from amidst the stones, effortlessly slinging them over her shoulder. “Oh, were you the one who buried these here?” “Yeah. It seemed odd for a vagabond to carry intact supplies. And if you bury them carelessly, they’re hard to find later. This is perfect—this familiar, heavy feeling. Haha, it’s back. My old trusty companion.” The sword might feel unjustly treated. What martial artist in the world buries their treasured weapon in a stone grave? Grave-robbing is a common pastime among Zhongyuan people; what if someone stole it? Moreover, which swordsman manages their sword by letting it chill in dampness, collecting cold from the ground and frost? However, the sword, being merely an object, had no means to express dissatisfaction. Qing resembled her old companion as she retrieved her cherished sword from the grave. Too wide and long to qualify as a long sword, yet inadequate to be regarded as a great sword. This was, indeed, the Moonlight Sword! Probably the tenth version. Probably the tenth, because during Qing's stay at the Divine Maiden Sect, she'd leave it with the old man from Seol's Trading Guild, who'd melt it down and recast it. Each time, the Seol Trading Guild incorporated rare metals that were sourced through inquiries, making it visually similar but compositionally different from the original tenth version. “Oh, so did you put up this wooden marker too? To make it look like a grave?” “That wasn’t my intention. But yes, I put it up.” “Whoa, is this writing? What script is it?” “No idea.” Qing turned to gaze down at the plank. Faint scratches were carved into the plank, now rotting away with age. When compared, it vaguely resembled the script from the 'Land of Morning Calm' beyond the Changbai Mountains: Joseon. It was similar yet different—letters unreadable in this era, readable only by Qing, the letters of her home. “Here lies the Moonlight Sword.” Scrawled with a rock, the letters were careless, with sizes ranging wildly—so tiny at times, like the tip of a fingernail. Other countries' writing, she could pen neatly, but distinctly, she struggled restoring her native tongue. Below that, with even smaller scribbles: “You damn bastards, see you later.” Qing burst into a low chuckle. Back when she inscribed it, she was so overcome with anger, so eager to become a true expert and wreak havoc, she etched it with vehement breath. Wow, when was that again? Perhaps the remains of Moonlight Sword No. 1, like its hilt, might be resting under the soil here, or being crafted from cheap wood rotted away long ago. But in the end, what did it matter? Then came a ripping sound, splitting the silence. Qing tugged free the grim mask, dangling it onto the plank, casting aside the grotesque face cover. Reaching out with her hand, she smoothly lifted the gravestone of the Moonlight Sword No. 1. And with a mighty throw, she flung it into the distance, far, far away. No longer needing the shelter of a dismal city, the spirit roams happily with good company, well-fed and full of laughter. The Moonlight Sword had long resided within her, rendering the grave and its marker unnecessary. Surveying the vacancy left by the displaced plank, Qing smoothed over the earth with her foot, packing it neatly. Then, tidying up her tangled, strawlike hair into a single bundle, she donned her mask once more. Finally, she turned, her voice noticeably lighter, declaring: “Here rests the former vile ghost, evolved into the vagabond supreme. Haha, come now, let’s go.” --- Liaoning Province, Tai’an County. A man, holding a broken sword, looked up at his adversary. Rumor had it that there existed a formidable opponent known as the Robbing Demon in the martial world. His cultivation level was unknown, yet he was speculated to be at least at the Unrestrained Realm. After a duel, he would demand either life or martial skills from the defeated as trophies. Yet rumors are simply rumors. If an individual like the Robbing Demon truly demanded one's life or martial skills, he wouldn’t simply exist as a mere rumor. If one surrendered their life, they couldn’t possibly survive to spread any tales. And should one disgracefully sacrifice martial skills to live? That would be a disgrace worse than death for a martial artist—certainly not something to brag about. Yet rumors don’t circulate for nothing, and only now did the man realize the truth in the tales about the Robbing Demon. “Your life, or your martial skills?” “...Martial skills.” “Martial skills, is it? You mean that sword technique of yours? Didn’t seem particularly profound.” “Ugh, due to my low realm, I can barely manage the Three Movements. However, my instructor promised that by mastering the Six Movements, I would become renowned. Completing the Eight Movements means none would match me. Such is the sword art I speak of.” The Robbing Demon snorted dismissively. “Surely their creators would say such things. If you had invented the technique, would you tell others it was worthless, possessing no power even in mastery?” “...Ugh.” The man's frustration was evident as he bit his lip. The Robbing Demon cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “Ahem, sorry. I didn’t mean to insult. It’s just a figure of speech. Since when does the world lack cultivation arts that seem godly from cover to preface alone? Go on, show me properly.” “...The First Movement of the Eight Movement Sword: Two Red Swallows.” With those words, the man executed one of the Eight Movement Sword forms. Had Qing been present, she might have stared blankly into space for a moment, before suddenly muttering, “A blue one,” randomly. --- **New Terms and Translations:** 1. **Jianping Hills (건평) -** Translated as "Jianping hills." It's retained for localization and cultural reference. 2. **Robbing Demon (강탈마) -** Translated as "Robbing Demon" for the narrative context of being a formidable opponent. 3. **Two Red Swallows (양홍비) -** Translated as "Two Red Swallows" for its atmospheric sense connected to martial arts form. 4. **Seol's Trading Guild (설가상회) -** A fictional trading guild, giving context to Qing's past interactions and the unique materials used in her weapons. These translations maintain the cultural atmosphere and narrative fluidity of the original text. Given Qing's backstory as a transmigrated individual, some elements and references align with Qing's original world or her unique idiosyncrasies, such as her personalized inscription on the grave. However, in the realm beneath Heaven, Qing was the only one who classified martial arts by colors, and truthfully, blue-bordered martial arts should never be underestimated. “Hoo. Based on the Eight Trigrams, is it? There's a certain refinement to it. And what about the incantations?” “I'll recite them for you. Observing the world, the Northern Dipper Star marks the north, the sun and the moon rise in the east, then set in the west, and the southern heavenly star emerges, marking the south. This, they say, divides the space into the Eight Trigrams...” A tidbit from the martial world! When reciting the incantations for martial arts, the universal method involves repeating them three times. Supposedly, with exceptional talent, one can memorize them just by hearing them thrice. The Robbing Demon nodded once the man had recited the incantations three times. The man hesitated. “…You memorized it?” “It’s not that difficult of an incantation.” The man’s expression twisted. It had taken him three solid months of repeating it constantly to commit this incantation to memory. However, that was just a fleeting thought. “Now then, may I leave?” The Robbing Demon shook his head. “No, you shall die.” “Why? This isn’t what we agreed upon!” “An agreement, yes. An agreement relies heavily on trust. Do you concur?” The Robbing Demon’s tone turned harsh. “Yes, hence it’s your turn to honor the agreement—” “That’s why trust is crucial. Especially in transmitting martial arts. What if the incantations were wrong? Qi could backtrack, madness from demonic influence might invade the lower dantian, or perhaps the true core energy gets scattered, leaving one a cripple.” The Robbing Demon's face turned grim. “Did you truly think, with your pathetic skill level, you could deceive me? I gave you a chance to live, only for you to betray me like this?” “Wait, there's a misunderstanding! You’re mistaken!” “I told you, trust is essential. You’ve already tried to deceive me, so even the true incantations, I can’t believe them now.” “Hold on, there's a mix-up—” Suddenly, black-clad figures surged out from all sides. The man hurriedly drew his sword, meeting them with clanging clashes. The Robbing Demon turned and left, clicking his tongue. There was no need to watch the outcome. The man didn’t have the skill to survive his apprentices in the first place. Second, any apprentice who got beaten or harmed by such a person was destined to die eventually, so there was no point in watching over them. The Robbing Demon clicked his tongue once more and turned around. It was then. In the middle of the alley, a woman appeared, her expression cold as ice. Yet, she carried with her an old-fashioned frozen treat—a honey milk popsicle topped with raw, traditional confection. "Master Sword Demon. Haaah, a significant issue has arisen. Hoo, hoo." "Indeed, you appear to have a serious problem. Is it stuck to your lips?" As expected. The frozen milk had stuck to her lips it seemed. In that state, she answered emotionlessly. "Yes, however, I’m diligently melting it, so it’s fine. Haaah." "Be careful it doesn’t stick to your tongue. Why are you eating ice in the dead of winter?" "Although winter has technically passed, it’s not. The primary concern isn’t my lips and this frozen treat sticking. It’s more serious. Ah, it’s finally come loose." "Wait, tell me the issue before it sticks to your tongue. It looks like it certainly will." "The Mongolian troops failed to capture Jianping. It is said that Princess Yeon Sul's peace delegation will not pass through Jianping." The brows of the Robbing Demon, the Sword Demon, furrowed. "What? Those barbarian fools couldn’t conquer a mere village? A remote area without a single sect?" "Thus, the planned assault and the Sword Demon’s personal endeavors to individually strip martial arts from the royal guards have been thwarted. However, the mission remains intact. Yeon Sul must die." "Where, then, does the princess pass?" "That remains unknown. However, given my precise analysis, the princess is sure to traverse Liaoning territory. Therefore, keep a vigilant eye on Liaoning." "Does that make sense? Where else would she go if not Liaoning? Will she circle around through Joseon by ship before ascending? Why, she might even visit the land of Russia first on her way." "You have a point there. It's a stunning insight. I'd like to assist you further. Based on my remarkable analysis, Princess Yeon Sul's escort might increase in size, or conversely, they might scale it down for discretion. However, they could retain the current configuration anticipating my deduction." The enemy might increase, decrease, or stay the same. What helpful advice. The Sword Demon let out a deep sigh. "They shouldn’t have relied on those barbarians." Meanwhile, the woman resumed licking the popsicle, only to have it adhere firmly to her tongue. "Ouch. This really is a disaster. Hoo, hoo." “You could just have bitten it off…” The Sword Demon let out another weary sigh. Yet he approached the woman, tapping the frozen milk with his fingers. A piece of the ice cracked off, separating into a chunk attached to the stick in her hand and another large piece to her tongue. "Oh. Thank you." Chewing audibly on the ice, the woman nodded without a change in expression. Yet somehow, she appeared to be delighted, though how, was anyone's guess. --- **New Terms and Translations:** 1. **Northern Dipper Star (북두성) -** Translated as "Northern Dipper Star," reference to a constellation guiding the northern direction. 2. **Sword Demon (검마) -** Translated as "Sword Demon," the title emphasizing mastery or intimidating prowess in swordsmanship. 3. **Eight Movements Sword (팔비검) -** A fictional martial art style, signifying the division of sword techniques. 4. **Jianping (건평) -** Retained as "Jianping," a geographical location pivotal for strategic events. 5. **Liaoning (요녕) -** Retained as "Liaoning," for geographic accuracy and cultural reference. These translations and annotations provide clarity and preserve historical and cultural elements from the original text, maintaining the story's immersive quality. The contextual depth, Qing's experiences from a past life, and her unique perspective add a richly layered narrative texture.