Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 308: Hyeon-won (3)

A thunderous roar shook the air.

It was as if countless claps of thunder overlapped, the sheer force of the tremors violently shaking the ground.

Explosive energy surged across the vast land, so intense that even the martial artists of the Gongya Clan—who had been fleeing moments ago—forgot their purpose and turned back in shock.

They had just received instructions to lure the noble clans toward the Comrade of the Rogue Order.

"So-ga-ju, over there...!"

"I see it!"

Hwaaaak—!

The seven martial artists of the Gongya Clan came to an abrupt halt, their lightness techniques kicking up fierce winds. A thick cloud of dust burst beneath their feet.

But compared to the enormous cloud of debris rising ahead, their disturbance was nothing.

"The qi of the noble clans... it's completely vanished."

"...A massacre."

Stunned voices murmured in disbelief. Grand Princess Gongya Jeong and her retainers widened their eyes.

They had been wary even as they lured the powerful noble clans into their trap.

Anyone who had witnessed the death of Zhuge Clan Leader would have assumed that the Black Sovereigns of Ipwang Fortress were not in good condition.

"Verify if our tributes have been properly delivered... and prepare grain relief for the commoners. This time, no one in the clan will oppose me."

Gongya Jeong murmured, almost to herself.

It was something that had met with resistance time and time again.

The Gongya Clan did not stoop to vulgar acts of plunder. However, they were also not a family that openly showed mercy to commoners.

At most, they would host banquets to prevent the rampant looting that occurred when other noble clans organized martial arts tournaments.

But they had never taken it upon themselves to regularly open their granaries during prolonged famines. After all, the time would soon come when food would be more valuable than gold.

Yet now, not a single member of the clan voiced opposition.

The leadership of the Gongya Clan remained silent. They had no choice.

Because at that very moment, Ma Gwang-ik emerged from the cloud of dust.

Step.

The tendrils of translucent energy dissipated from his lowered hand, momentarily twisting the drifting dust into wisps that resembled the coils of the underworld.

Even the blood dripping steadily from beneath his sleeves was ominous. His injuries from the battle with Zhuge Clan Leader had likely reopened due to the recoil from using forbidden techniques.

Saaaah—

A dry wind swept the dust away, gradually revealing the scene behind him.

Beyond his shoulder, the ground had been gouged into an immense crater—a terrifying glimpse of hell itself.

The high-ranking martial artists who had led the extortion were now in the underworld. The rulers of Shanxi, who had reigned for generations, had not even been given the chance to leave behind their last words.

Across the scorched land, faint wisps of steam still rose. The sight was desolate and chilling.

"The prince who rides upon flowers... they say he is the reincarnation of Nata..."

One of the Gongya Clan’s elders muttered under his breath.

And then—

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been walking forward with measured steps, suddenly staggered.

"Lord of the Sword Pavilion!"

Gongya Jeong gasped, her body reacting instinctively.

The movement of the acting Clan Leader caused the leadership of the Gongya Clan to panic as well, and they too rushed forward.

They were powerful noble warriors, and in the blink of an eye, they arrived at the battlefield where the struggle had come to a swift and decisive end.

By then, Jeong Yeon-shin had already steadied his stance, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye.

He recalled the demeanor of his senior, Jin Myeong-jo.

Maintaining the dignity of the Divine Blood Extreme Demon was essential—no matter the situation.

If he upheld the Heavenly Dragon’s Harmonization Technique even after expending himself in Lightning’s Final Thunder or Heavenly Dragon’s Dual Incarnation, his enemies would hesitate before acting recklessly.

‘The cervical spine should form a slight backward curve rather than being perfectly straight. Engage both sides of the iliopsoas muscles.’

Even feigned composure was a skill. He could not afford to show weakness to anyone.

Ssssk.

Ignoring the searing pain flashing through his body, he composed himself.

The internal and external wounds he had sustained from Zhuge Clan Leader would not heal in a day or two.

Seeing the Gongya Clan's leadership flinch from a distance, he felt somewhat vindicated.

Even as a sense of satisfaction flickered through him, Jeong Yeon-shin recognized a pressing need.

More than a defensive technique—what he needed was people.

Perhaps it was because his body was exhausted.

The path ahead was treacherous. The vast martial world was filled with those who had united under various banners.

Defeating a supreme martial artist was only the beginning.

Afterward, he would have to endure the wrath of those left behind.

Against Zhuge Clan Leader, he had been extraordinarily fortunate.

The world was not composed solely of warriors who accepted one-on-one duels as the final verdict.

That was why martial artists formed sects and alliances.

House (mun), sect (pa).

They shared philosophies, techniques more valuable than blood, and bonds stronger than family.

Like the retainers standing behind Gongya Jeong.

Like Ma Gwang-ik of Ipwang Fortress.

"Are you all right? You must return to the main estate for treatment immediately—"

"So-ga-ju, I apologize."

Jeong Yeon-shin interrupted.

"For using your family in this mission."

For a moment, Gongya Jeong’s crimson robe trembled.

The words of Seomye, the Lotus Reincarnation of Nata, carried a peculiar weight.

His tone, laced with an intention to leave, shifted the entire atmosphere.

Had this been his plan all along?

It now felt as though this had always been meant as a farewell gathering.

She slowly opened her mouth to speak.

"In the end, only the Wolseong Gate left by Zhuge Clan Leader and my Gongya Clan remain in Shanxi. The humiliation we endured from the noble clans is nothing."

"As long as Wolseong Gate is unable to act freely, this land will remain peaceful for the time being. As long as people do not starve..."

"You will have a heavy burden, So-ga-ju. Your Clan Leader must recover soon."

Jeong Yeon-shin’s words were true.

Grand Princess Gongya Jeong would soon be left to handle the martial world of Shanxi on her own.

A land abandoned by the noble clans would never remain peaceful.

The mountain bandits of Green Forest, the unorthodox sects of the Evil Path, and the lawless wandering warriors would all vie for the vacant throne.

Tae Yeom-ryong’s group had joined Salhyup in striking at the headquarters of Wolseong Gate, but even beyond them, the situation was far from simple.

Shanxi was vast.

It was a burden far too heavy for one young successor to bear alone.

And countless opportunists from across the martial world would inevitably turn their eyes toward it.

"......Hm."

Gongya Jeong’s expression remained unchanged.

Her fine, dark eyebrows and her quiet, composed lips showed no reaction.

"My father was rather pleased. He called it a lesson in succession, saying this was my chance to stand alone. And he was right."

"...A rock."

Jeong Yeon-shin murmured abruptly, looking at the young head of the Gongya Clan with a mix of unease and wariness.

A person who lived as solid as stone. She was the very embodiment ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ of a still, clear pond—An Unwavering Mind.

She seemed utterly unshakable, like a perfectly sculpted stone. And that, once again, made Jeong Yeon-shin feel the creeping sting of inferiority.

Ever since the moment she had effortlessly dismissed a decade of training with a single sword strike, he had felt this way.

It was an overwhelming, effortless confidence—one he had not even felt from Zhuge Clan Leader.

Life...

Jeong Yeon-shin carved the unfairness of the world into his bones. He suddenly wanted to leave.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

Shaking his head at her questioning glance, he continued.

"You have a good father."

His tone was as indifferent as ever.

The corner of Gongya Jeong’s lips lifted slightly.

"Sua wishes to enter Ipwang Fortress. If she takes the entrance examination someday, would you accept her as a Ma Gwang-ik?"

She was referring to Gongya Su, the bright and cheerful second son of the Gongya Clan.

Recalling Gongya Su, Jeong Yeon-shin nodded. While the Black Sovereigns sometimes held duels over new recruits, he no longer had much to fear beyond the Three Black Generals.

Unless it was Senior Jin from the Blood Sovereigns—whose presence was so overwhelming that even his qi could not be read—most new recruits would be within his grasp.

"It's time for me to go."

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly spoke.

He had just entrusted a letter to one of the Gongya Clan’s attendants before coming out.

A brief farewell to his seniors.

For Ak Su-rim and Jin Myeong-jo, who could barely move, returning to the main stronghold to recuperate was the right decision.

They were the kind of people who, if he asked, would gladly accompany him with their vast hearts and warm spirits—but Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t want that.

Ipwang’s Divine Spear and Divine Blood Extreme Demon had to remain and oversee the Divine Sword Division and Blood Sovereigns.

As their mentors, their responsibilities lay elsewhere.

'The two of you must not be injured further. You must not suffer any unforeseen misfortune.'

The Zhuge Clan Leader was dead.

The duties of the great sovereigns were over.

Now, it was Ma Gwang-ik’s task.

He had long suspected that the Five Moon Killing Sect and Hyeonwon Spear were somehow entangled.

He also knew that the founder of Ipwang’s Divine Association was originally from Shanxi.

Hyeonwon Spear’s vendetta was also Ma Gwang-ik’s vendetta. It was only right for the current Ma Gwang-ik to handle this matter.

Even if the Blue Sovereigns of Ipwang Fortress had the authority to act independently, the principle remained the same.

Sarak.

The sound of fabric rustling overlapped as Jeong Yeon-shin turned away, while Gongya Jeong belatedly raised her hands in a martial salute.

"May you triumph."

"The same to you, Young Master Gongya."

Seomye, the Lotus Reincarnation of Nata, turned fully and took his first step forward.

At that moment, a rustling sound came from within his robes.

A tiny, snow-white swallow suddenly flapped its wings and soared high into the sky.

Baek-yeon.

A spiritual creature used by the great sovereigns of Ipwang Fortress.

Piiiiik—!

Against the blue-tinged sky, the bird spread its wings and cut across the horizon.

Flying along the vast border of the wilderness, its form was unrestrained, as if it already knew its master’s destination.

Beneath it, the current Ma Gwang-ik walked slowly, leaving his footprints one by one on the ochre earth.

Saaaah—

A dry breeze blew gently. The late winter air was as transparent as ice.

The noble warriors of the Gongya Clan silently watched the retreating figure of the young man who had entered as a stranger and subdued the martial world of Shanxi.

They watched for a long time, without saying a word.

***

“That crater over there, take a look. Truly a breathtaking sight. You could call it the pinnacle of coordinated martial artistry. Who would have thought a barrage of Thunderbolt Bombs could turn into something so beautiful?”

“......”

“I suppose I chose the right side. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Your insight has never been wrong, Military Commissioner.”

“Haha, now that’s just flattery...”

“It is nothing but the truth.”

“He pierced through all the subtle intricacies of the high masters’ Hwakyung. And all those explosives detonated only after hitting their precise marks? That technique would work even on the treacherous northern borders. It’s a skill that can’t be ignored. Tell me, Military Officer.”

“Yes.”

“We're heading to Beijing. We need to prepare a memorial to the throne.”

***

The feeling against his back was hard.

“......”

Geum Seon-hwi opened his eyes.

Immediately, he saw a dark space—the underside of the bed.

He had unconsciously slid down from beneath the covers while sleeping, keeping his senses alert for any hidden blades that might strike.

The familiar air brushed coolly against his skin. The scent of steel, the stench of dried wood, the lingering aura of killing intent...

Sssk.

Before he even realized it, he was already standing.

Like a ghost, his body moved instinctively the moment his consciousness awoke, following the survival reflexes ingrained into him since childhood.

It had been necessary. To evade the Absolute River Sword Style of the Murong Clan and the terrifying blade techniques of Taemo Fortress, he had to move like this. It had been an unrelenting, grueling pursuit.

...Wait. The Eight Families and the Thirteen Heavens. What time is it now?

‘Ah.’

Suddenly, he repeated his name in his mind.

Hyeon Won-chang, the Martial Champion of Imperial Huang, the Grand Snow Sword of the Martial Vanguard...

Geum Seon-hwi, once a rising star of the Assassination Sect, no longer existed. The youngest child of the Sect Leader, born late in his years, was dead.

He had abandoned the Geum name when he narrowly escaped the pursuit of the two major orthodox sects that sought the Heavenly Demon’s legacy. His family had cast him aside first, after all.

Hyeon Won-chang’s lips stiffened.

“Is this an illusion formation? My mind feels hazy, like I’ve inhaled dozens of poppy incense sticks.”

“If your memories are illusions, then I suppose it is.”

A clear, melodious voice echoed.

Perched on the corner of the bed was a man in a black hat, gazing up at Hyeon Won-chang.

His carefree, almost leisurely posture suited him.

Hyeon Won-chang was not startled by the strange intrusion. The Geum Family had never been a place where one could expect normalcy.

This particular pavilion, built at the base of a cliff, was almost identical to the ruins of his destroyed ancestral home.

“Is it morning?”

“You already know the answer.”

Slaughter Chief Geum Jon-hwi smiled.

“You truly are gifted. I didn’t expect to still sense the Killing Arts radiating from your body.”

“Stop with the nonsense.”

“A shame. Where has my dear younger brother gone, the one who would recite Du Fu’s poetry in that adorable voice just to comfort me? The direct descendant who once soothed the sorrows of his elder brother?”

“In the end, I was nothing but a bastard child due to my mother’s status. Geum Seon-hwi no longer exists, and you have achieved your long-cherished wish of becoming the Deputy Sect Leader. We’ve both fulfilled our objectives, haven’t we? We can part ways now.”

“You speak differently than you did last night. Are you saying you have no regrets about lifting your Geum Seal?”

“......”

“I read the fate of your superior. He won’t live long... how unfortunate. You should become much stronger before then.”

Hyeon Won-chang’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“When have your divinations ever been accurate? You just chose assassination targets and said, ‘This man’s fate is terribly short-lived,’ before cutting them down. It was fortunate they were all scum.”

“Now that’s the little brother I remember.”

Slaughter Chief Geum Jon-hwi laughed heartily.

He rhythmically nodded and pulled something from his robes.

A short, green scroll.

“This is the key to lifting your Geum Seal and a document that contains the long-held desires of our main branch. I had to go through quite a bit to get it from those stubborn elders. They despise your mixed blood for no reason, even though none of them are true direct descendants. A bunch of ridiculous old men.”

“......”

“The problem is, it’s sealed with a sorcery formation... and the key incantation was lost. That day—the chaos at the Heavenly Demon’s Tomb. We were too busy running for our lives.”

“...That’s true.”

“There’s talk that Thousand Martial Alliance is moving an army of a thousand elite warriors toward this region. The Murong Clan’s movements are also unusual. And those freaks at Taemo Fortress have been buying up an absurd amount of Huanghuali Paper.”

Huanghuali Paper—paper made from the catalpa tree, a crucial material for talisman crafting.

It was the primary weapon of the Thirteen Heavens, the sorcery masters of Taemo Fortress.

“Something is happening, but I feel like our branch is too weak to deal with it. If we can resolve our long-standing grievances and boost your martial power in the process, wouldn’t that be killing two birds with one stone?”

“I am not a man of the Assassination Sect.”

“Not yet. Do as you please.”

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Tap, tap.

Slaughter Chief tossed the scroll into the air, caught it one-handed, and spoke.

There was an odd confidence in his voice, something inherent to his very being.

Hyeon Won-chang, after watching him for a moment, finally spoke, extending his hand forward.

“Let me see it.”

“Sure. Though it’s probably useless.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you, it’s sealed with sorcery. You won’t be able to open it. It’s as solid as a club.”

Slaughter Chief spoke casually.

“This is actually your first test. The previous Sect Leader, before our clan was wiped out, infused your body with rare elixirs... The old geezers in the Elder Council don’t want your Geum Seal broken because they fear it would undermine my legitimacy.”

He handed over the scroll to Hyeon Won-chang and continued.

“But I convinced them. I told them, ‘We’ve never been able to accomplish our branch’s long-held wish. If he manages to unlock this while wandering the martial world with me...’”

Tap.

“...Then that’s fate. Keep it safe and get ready to leave. Huangbo Clan and the Imperial Vanguard are already up. They didn’t seem to have slept well.”

At that moment.

Suddenly, a faint white mist flowed from Hyeon Won-chang’s hand.

Srrrrrk—

The scroll unraveled like a spool of thread.

Underneath the nearly imperceptible glow of his Radiant Incantation Energy.

The jawline of Slaughter Chief Geum Jon-hwi, visible beneath his black hat, tensed.

His aura, which had dominated the room, wavered.

A silence fell.

The corners of Hyeon Won-chang’s lips curled upward slightly.

“Hmm, so Divine Mastery Techniques don’t distinguish between sorcery and martial arts after all.”

His muttered words sounded almost like a boast.