Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 314: Hyeon-won (9)

A situation of absolute peril.

Chil Sado had clearly called out Grandfather.

There was context to the conversation before this. For a brief moment, anyone would have thought of a pahyeop, a knightly hero.

Even the Supreme Leader of Sim Mu-ryeon was no exception. Even if it was a lie.

"......."

His massive shadow wavered. The overwhelming force radiating from the Supreme Leader came to an abrupt halt.

For a fraction of a second, he was forced to focus his consciousness outward. A supreme master lost a fraction of his internal breath.

That was exactly what Chil Sado had intended.

On the other side of her pitch-black eyepatch, her ruby-like eye gleamed blood-red.

Hwaaaak—!

The source of the wave that crushed the snowfield in a perfect circle was beneath her feet. A surge of energy unlike any before struck. The swirling snow mixed violently with her jet-black hair.

A calamity. That was the only way to describe it.

In a dire situation with the Supreme Leader standing within reach, she had created an opening.

Chil Sado's upper dantian burned hot inside her skull.

At the same time—

Her world slowed. The freezing air wrapped around her limbs, weighing her down like iron shackles. Even breathing became a struggle.

She didn't care.

She imagined incinerating the habits of True Blood Vast Art through sheer willpower.

She had learned Vast Blood Art as soon as she could walk. But now, she had to abandon it completely. Survival demanded something far more refined than old habits—she needed a higher form of martial enlightenment.

Chil Sado envisioned something. A treasure that existed only in her mind, one that had long since burned away.

A human anatomy chart.

It was so radiant that it had seared itself into her consciousness as an eternal symbol.

Bones, meridians, muscles, and blood vessels—every detail was the pinnacle of martial artistry.

Her extraordinary senses reached into the bloodstream of the figure in her mind, delicately tracing the meridians, like running her fingers through the hair of someone she loved.

"Taesa."

Haa—

Chil Sado exhaled a white breath. The blood on her lips evaporated into fine threads. Every meridian and blood vessel in her body was pushed to its absolute limit.

Her body ached.

She had forced herself to mimic someone else's internal energy flow—an act she had always considered sacrilegious and had never dared to attempt before.

She breathed like Jeong Yeon-shin.

She moved her energy like Jeong Yeon-shin.

Gradually, the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Inside her mind, it felt as if a sprout of light had begun to bloom.

A shudder of exhilaration crawled up her spine.

Even though it wasn’t even a tenth of what he was truly capable of, that didn’t matter.

Because the sensation of Taesa embracing her was so utterly overwhelming, so euphoric that it nearly drove her mad.

Sabak.

Her foot pushed against the snow.

Her body, now fully synchronized with Jeong Yeon-shin's energy, moved at the speed of thought.

In an instant, she mapped out a complete escape route from the Supreme Leader.

A single moment—

And she expelled her energy through the Yongcheon Point in her soles, launching herself like an arrow.

Before she realized it, she was soaring through the air.

The atmosphere, once frozen like an icy tomb, no longer felt cold. On the contrary, it felt blisteringly hot—

As if the wind had been warmed by her own burning body.

Sarararak—

Her crimson sleeves flared brilliantly.

A reddish qi shimmered from her limbs and along the hem of her robes.

The secret A-shin Technique of the Bloodflame Cult’s aristocracy.

Chil Sado intentionally sharpened her focus.

Dozens of lines of perception streaked past her vision as she tore through the sky.

Even she was stunned by how fast she was moving.

It was difficult to believe she had only now activated her light movement technique.

'I can go even faster.'

Breathing like Jeong Yeon-shin meant she was breathing martial arts.

Thinking like Jeong Yeon-shin meant she was thinking martial arts.

A crimson curve formed at the corner of Chil Sado’s lips.

She wasn’t being reckless.

She was merely immersing herself in Taesa’s world of flowing light.

Even if she could only dip the very tips of her toes into it—

If she could just brush against the time in which he existed, even a little—

Then she could taste an even greater ecstasy.

Interwoven Embers True Blood Art.

The qi racing through every meridian in her body was the martial art Taesa had attuned specifically for her.

He had never managed to perfect it.

But she had completed it herself.

A thrill ran through her crown.

She longed to see his face—his blunt, yet strangely beautiful face.

'Can I shake him off?'

She wondered.

All while feeling the dense pressure of the Supreme Leader’s energy surge behind her, growing heavier and heavier in the air beneath her feet.

***

Two figures descended into the dimly lit clearing.

They stood beneath the thick canopy of a coniferous tree, its dense foliage casting deep shadows despite the midday sun. Their conversation was just as heavy.

"I apologize. We could not find them."

"They vanished? Three masters of the Hui Absolute Squad from the Grand Mo Yong Clan disappeared without a trace?"

"Yes."

"And it was nothing of particular importance—just a trivial task of tracking some insignificant assassins."

"Perhaps they were taken down by an opponent beyond their ability to resist..."

"Beyond their ability? There is no such person left in Shanxi. The Deputy Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the Bright Wing Lord, and even the Blood Sovereign are all confirmed to be in no condition to fight at full strength for the time being. Unless someone consumed Shaolin's sacred relic, no one will recover anytime soon. The Zhuge Clan Head already exchanged blows with them."

"Could it be additional reinforcements from Ipwang Fortress?"

"They lack the capacity to focus their forces like that. Even handling the three Black-Robed Masters would have been a tremendous burden. Ipwang Fortress is out of the equation."

"But still, the commander of the Hui Absolute Squad and other high-ranking members have disappeared. What should we do? Their trail was last seen near the lands of the Gongya Clan..."

"...For now, tell the others not to act recklessly. The martial forces backing that daughter of the Supreme Leader are on the move. Our Mo Yong Clan must not clash with them. That would only benefit Shaolin."

"Understood. Reports say they number in the hundreds, correct?"

"There is intelligence suggesting even more have arrived. Those Sim Mu-ryeon dogs are wielding their ties to the imperial court like a sharpened blade. Do not engage them under any circumstances."

"I will relay your orders."

"What I’m about to say is more important. Gather all our scattered retainers from across Shanxi and bring them to Taiyuan. Instruct them to prepare means of disguising their identities—Infiltration Masks, escape routes, whatever it takes."

"Are you preparing for war?"

"A celestial net is closing. Do you understand how critical this matter is to the clan head?"

"What do you intend to do afterward?"

"We strike with force and retreat. The clan head believes that the missing technique of the Heavenly Demon Armor is hidden within the assassin faction. If we obtain that single piece, nothing else will matter."

"Are you certain that the one called Ipwang Grand Champion and the Butcher truly descend from the remnants of the Gold Reaper Assassins who once guarded the Heavenly Demon Tomb? The techniques of the Five Great Reaper Clans were confirmed to be distinct from the lost Assassin Faction."

"The clan head remembers."

The taller of the two superiors continued speaking.

"Hyeon Won-chang—that bastard. A boy who fled from our main house. A war captive taken to the assassin faction to have his innate vital energy extracted. He endured unspeakable torture..."

***

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A grand estate stood atop a high hill.

Within the walls overlooking a small rural village, a girl and three men faced the retainers of the manor.

At the forefront of the estate’s servants, a middle-aged man with yellowed brows displayed an expression of disbelief.

"...Your energy speaks for itself. You truly come from the main family."

His voice was solemn.

A low chuckle echoed from the Butcher.

His black hat cast a shadow over his face, revealing only his lower jaw, where the curve of his lips exuded a carefree elegance.

"This must be unsettling. The ghosts of a past buried for over a decade have come knocking. Ah, come to think of it, I haven’t even offered my greetings yet."

"Buried? We never forgot. We merely carried on with our lives because our faction was crushed. How could we possibly oppose the Mo Yong Clan and the Tai Mo Mountain Stronghold, who seized the Heavenly Demon Tomb? Even the main branch had no choice but to surrender."

"You certainly play the fool well, Deputy Branch Leader. You never sought out the main house, despite knowing the reputation of this unworthy Geum Mo. And yet, even if you feigned ignorance, the assassinations bore the hallmarks of the branch faction’s methods."

The tone was undeniably mocking.

The middle-aged man with a sharp, feline gaze tensed.

The atmosphere between them was hardly amicable.

A cold wind swept through the courtyard, as tense and wary as the gazes exchanged between them.

Yu Family Manor.

A noble household of the village had no choice but to accept four uninvited guests.

Even if they wanted to refuse, they couldn't.

Because every single one of these uninvited visitors was anything but ordinary.

Even the girl standing in the center.

Her white robes stirred ever so slightly on their own, as if alive.

She was cloaked in an aura so refined that even in a well-established martial world, it was rare to encounter.

A force capable of single-handedly erasing an entire faction.

"Do I look like a member of the Tang Clan?"

Her words were curt and direct.

The warning in her tone was clear—watch your eyes.

A handful of young men, all of them local martial practitioners, flinched and immediately bowed their heads.

They had instantly recognized the noble grace embedded in Shin So-bin’s demeanor.

They also understood something else—winning her favor would be nearly impossible.

The women of the manor, who had been gawking at the two imposing men, hurriedly averted their gazes.

Even among the unwelcome visitors, the one with the weakest presence commanded this level of intimidation.

"Won-chang, is this really the place? I expected you to have been raised somewhere grander."

"The Deputy Branch Leader called this a branch faction. Calling it ‘grand’ is a stretch. In my entire life, only one place ever treated me like I was precious."

"A man known only for having a sharp tongue."

Tae Yeom-ryong chuckled softly, his gaze lazily sweeping across the surroundings.

In contrast, Hyeon Won-chang idly stroked the sword knot at his waist, his head slightly bowed.

One of the Yu Manor’s hidden martial records contained a single passage that would unlock part of a forbidden technique.

If he wanted to chase after Jeong Yeon-shin, he could not afford to fall too far behind Tae Yeom-ryong.

The young men, dressed in nothing but thin silk robes in the dead of late winter, seemed utterly indifferent to the cold.

"How could a fractured remnant of the Gold Reaper Assassins have produced men like these...?"

The Master of Yu Manor was deeply disturbed.

He had no desire to shatter the fragile peace his household had maintained. Most of his clan's retainers seemed to share his apprehension.

As a significant branch of the Gold Reaper Assassins, they had lived in hiding, severing ties with the main faction after the Heavenly Demon Tomb Incident.

And now, they knew exactly why the main faction had come knocking.

The Gatekeeper’s Secret Technique, scattered among the branch families.

It had become the core of Yu Manor’s martial legacy, something they could never relinquish.

Even if the leader of the Pure Demonic Lotus, the largest faction that had splintered from the Ming Cult, stood before them, even if Yelu Zhen, the rightful successor of the Xinjiang Ming Cult, personally demanded it—

it would still be impossible.

"At first, you must have kept an eye on the Mo Yong Clan and the Tai Mo Mountain Stronghold."

The Butcher, who had been silently observing the Master of Yu Manor, finally spoke.

"You must have considered cooperating with the main faction—back when a few of our elders, ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) who are now long dead, sold out Seon-hwi to the Mo Yong Clan."

"......."

"But time deceived you. As the years passed, you grew comfortable in your independence. Isn't that right?"

"The Yu Clan does not lack honor."

The Master of Yu Manor spoke firmly.

The Butcher clapped his hands in amusement.

"Ah, I misspoke. I judged the spirit of your branch too carelessly. Once Seon-hwi’s trial is over, I will be sure to prostrate myself before you in apology. Without fail."

"A trial, you say..."

The words escaped him like a sigh.

The Butcher took a step forward, forcing an answer.

"There must be something prepared. Test Seon-hwi according to the Assassin Laws."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

The Master of Yu Manor bit his lower lip.

"...You have brought outsiders of the sect into this matter. We cannot conduct something so sacred in their presence."

"Is that truly the stance you will take?"

The Butcher's lips curled slightly, a trace of irritation showing—

[Indeed! A filthy half-breed born of a lowborn wench dares to inherit the sect’s position? This matter must be reconsidered! No matter how I think of it!]

A harsh, elderly voice boomed through the courtyard, shaking the very air with its force.

Dust rose in patches across the ground—remnants of immense internal energy spilling into the surroundings.

Shin So-bin frowned deeply.

She recognized the old man descending from above—one of the Elders of the Gold Reaper Assassins, someone she had encountered before.

A man who had never once looked upon Hyeon Won-chang with anything but contempt.

One of the highest-ranking elders within the faction, a man who posed as a respected Confucian scholar in the public eye.

He had once rebuked Hyeon Won-chang, accusing him of trying to steal the sect that the Butcher had painstakingly rebuilt from the ashes—

all because of a mere bloodline connection.

And now, here he was, trailing after them, intent on interfering once again.

[The rabid hounds of the Bright Wing dare to covet our sect? Truly, I have seen it all!]

The elder’s midnight-black robes flared around him as he landed in the center of the courtyard.

BOOM!

His stomach hit the ground first.

The elder collapsed, his body slamming into the earth.

The surrounding air warped and twisted from the sheer force.

At some point, Tae Yeom-ryong had moved to his side, driving his elbow into the old man's spine.

The shockwave that followed was immense—so overwhelming that the gathered warriors winced instinctively.

"How utterly pathetic..."

Tae Yeom-ryong murmured, his shadowed eyes filled with disdain.