Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 316: Hyeon-won (11)

The man sitting on the rock locked eyes with Jeong Yeon-shin.

Ziiing.

A resonant hum echoed in his mind.

For a moment, it felt as if they had exchanged swords. A silent communion between supreme martial artists.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt an immensely powerful energy wave.

It’s as if he’s fused his sword into his inner energy. A master of the highest level of swordsmanship.

This wasn’t an ordinary fluctuation of internal energy. It carried the deep traces of profound cultivation, along with a mental image sharp as a honed blade.

The essence of a lifelong pursuit of the sword was embedded in his qi.

Despite appearing to be in his forties, his power was unfathomable. In the world of warriors, he was still considered middle-aged at best.

"You... You are indeed the one I thought you were."

The man spoke slowly.

"You have reached the realm where you carry a sword within your heart. Your blade is honed to the point where it cannot be ignored."

"Your energy is also well-forged," Jeong Yeon-shin responded, his natural humility guiding his words.

From the corner, Jeon Baek, who had been standing frozen in place, suddenly inhaled sharply. Was this a familiar face? His reaction suggested he had encountered the man before—and in a way that left an impression.

But the white-clad swordsman didn’t even glance at him.

He merely raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Arrogant, but you have the right to be. I never expected the rumors to be true... If the treasure of the Assassination Sect were to fall into your hands, it would be a catastrophe."

He had seen through Jeong Yeon-shin’s internal state in an instant.

And the murmured words that followed were just as clear. If he didn’t kill him now, he might never get another chance.

Saaaa—

The sound of rain hitting the ground thickened. The rhythmic patter of muddy water splattering at their feet was oddly sharp.

The man seated so casually before them was not someone one could simply stumble upon by chance.

There was an unmistakable aura of the Sim Mu-ryeon sect about him. Given the overwhelming presence, he was likely one of the Three Martial Lords.

The martial world was as vast as the entire continent itself. It spanned nations, an expanse wider than any kingdom.

It was said that the Lord of Light Blades (Gwang Do-jon), the fastest and most destructive sword in all of Hanaam, was a woman.

That meant the man before him could be Lord of Twin Blood Blades (Bi-ik Hyeol-jon), who had mastered exotic poisons and once split dozens of ships along the Yangtze River.

But the Lord of Twin Blood Blades is known to wield twin swords.

Either way, this man was a testament to how deeply Jeong Yeon-shin had become entangled in the upper echelons of the martial world.

He had risen to a position where even the Four Vajras of Shaolin would call him a peer.

Every encounter he had now was with extraordinary figures.

Perhaps his advanced Hui Guang Ban Jo state was naturally attracting powerful opponents.

A kind of fate, shaped by the martial energy flowing through him.

"For someone so young to have internal energy this profound... he must be from a noble martial lineage."

The older Jeong Yeon-shin recalled his uncle’s advice.

Things had changed since he had risen to the rank of Lord of the Radiant Abyss.

The lives of his subordinates were now dependent on his decisions. He needed to develop a discerning eye for people.

Srak.

The rustling of fabric came from beside him.

The sound of silk, heavy with concealed energy, brushing against itself.

"I had to check to believe it myself," a voice cut in. "Did I hear you say you were going to kill my guest? Who gave you that right?"

It was Gun Yu-rin’s distinctively hoarse voice.

She stepped forward, aligning herself beside Jeong Yeon-shin.

Her shoulders squared, her hand rested on the sword case strapped to her back.

The invisible presence radiating from her was suffocating.

"You’re getting involved now?" she said coldly. "But when I was almost killed by the Ax Moon Breaker, you didn’t move an inch. Back then, I thought I didn’t have any shadow guards."

There was familiarity between them.

And the white-clad swordsman’s reaction confirmed it.

"I knew you could handle that situation on your own, Lady Gun. This, however, is different."

His expression was as if he were dealing with something trivial. He found excessive explanations tiresome. Though he used honorifics, there was no true reverence in his voice.

Gun Yu-rin’s brow furrowed sharply.

"What’s different? The Ax Moon Breaker was even more—"

"This is not just anywhere. This is the imperial sword. The skills possessed by that man are strong enough to put the Coiled Dragon Reincarnation to death.

Considering the strict hierarchical structure of Imperial Huang City, he must be an ultra-high-ranking figure who has surpassed the constraints of age.

From the perspective of our sect, he should be avoided. The influence that the Lord of the Radiant Abyss could have on the martial world is—frankly—beyond your comprehension, Lady Gun. I understand. Just step back."

There was an air of boredom in the lengthy explanation.

He was speaking as if offering guidance.

Like a sect’s true authority indulging the naive foolishness of a superior.

Chaaaaang!

Gun Yu-rin unsheathed her dao.

A massive arc of movement, leaving behind a shimmering afterimage before the blade cut through the air and settled.

Her weapon was the size of her own body, yet she wielded it with one hand like it was a twig.

"You sure do talk a lot. How about shutting up?"

Her voice had turned into something closer to a beast’s growl.

The way her long black hair whipped through the air behind her, charged with force, resembled a young general’s battle cloak.

"You’re just following my brother’s orders, aren’t you?

As long as my esteemed guest is by my side, it’s harder to get me killed.

It’s harder to have some blind assassin’s dagger or poisoned needle ‘naturally’ finish me off, isn’t that right?"

She had just mentioned the Grand Heir of Sim Mu-ryeon.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s fingers twitched slightly as they neared the hilt at his waist.

Even though he had never seen him in person, he already bore resentment toward him.

The man who had tried to take the lives of innocent commoners, only to have his head lopped off in return.

It was his betrothed, the Sword Fairy Ye-hwa, who had fallen victim to his arrogance.

Not long after, his underlings had come seeking vengeance against Jeong Yeon-shin.

The forces the Grand Heir had sent to kill him had failed, not anticipating the intervention of the Azure Qilin’s Emperor Sword Form.

"They say grudges in the martial world persist even after washing hands in gold-dusted water."

An enmity formed early in his martial journey had followed him even now, as he stood on the verge of claiming a seat among the legends.

Jeong Yeon-shin felt the suffocating pull of the martial world’s endless cycles of revenge.

Perhaps from now on, enemies would be lying in wait everywhere he turned.

"Lady Gun, your words are as reckless as ever," the white-clad swordsman said, shaking his head slowly.

"My subordinates can hear you. Do not speak so carelessly."

The man remained half-reclined against the rock.

Did he possess immense confidence in his swordsmanship? Even as he looked at both Jeong Yeon-shin and Won-jeok Dae-sa at the same time, he appeared completely unfazed.

"Don't give me that crap. You're worried about your subordinates' eyes because they're practically the Lienju's eyes, aren't you? How dare you spew such blatant lies..."

Gun Yu-rin trembled with rage. This wasn't the same self-assured, lone-wolf-like presence she usually exuded. It was the frustration of an heir with wounded pride.

"I already know. You have to compete with the Moyong Clan over the remaining treasures of Cheonma Tomb, but you don't like the fact that I’m dragging in a massive wildcard, do you? You involved yourself in the successor dispute and now you're throwing around these pathetic excuses...!"

"Enough. You're rambling too much," Jeong Yeon-shin cut her off.

He was beginning to piece the situation together.

It’s becoming clear now.

The Assassination Sect guarded Cheonma Tomb.

Both the Moyong Clan and Sim Mu-ryeon were after the Cheonma's inheritance.

Within Sim Mu-ryeon, Gun Yu-rin and the Grand Heir were in direct competition for succession.

The swordsman before them was aligned with the Grand Heir, while Gun Yu-rin, who was also pursuing the Assassination Sect, had inadvertently brought in Jeong Yeon-shin—along with the Four Vajras of Shaolin—by treating him as an honored guest.

For the Grand Heir of Sim Mu-ryeon, there was no greater source of anxiety than this unforeseen complication.

"You said the village was dead. Was it you who made it that way?"

His priority was to ensure the safety of the people rather than his own objectives. This was the instinct ingrained in warriors from Imperial Huang City. At the same time, Won-jeok quietly chanted a low incantation.

"Amita Buddha...!"

There was a note of shock in the voice of the Great Vajra of Shaolin.

For a moment, Jeong Yeon-shin felt like a five-year-old child again. He quickly shook off the sensation. Now was not the time for such sentiments—even if it felt like his shaven-headed grandfather was standing right next to him.

"......."

The white-clad swordsman did not answer.

He simply smiled—a faint, unreadable smirk, his lips curved upward like the edge of a blade. Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t like the look of it.

"I asked what you did," Jeong Yeon-shin said.

"The youngest Black Rank. A favorite of Imperial Huang City's ruler. A noble birth. The Dark King of Sichuan. The Lotus Nata of Shanxi..."

The Martial Lord of Sim Mu-ryeon spoke slowly. Though he kept his eyes on Jeong Yeon-shin, he never lost track of Won-jeok in his peripheral vision.

"I suppose there’s nothing in the world that hasn’t gone your way."

"...?"

"The world must have seemed like it existed solely for you. Even from afar, I could tell. But seeing how you’ve managed to ensnare both the Lady of Sim Mu-ryeon and even one of the Four Vajras of Shaolin, I understand now.

I see why Ye-ryeong and the Severing Sword Sect wanted you dead.

And on top of that, you’re of the Fractured Chivalry Bloodline. That means you could easily use the Hua Mountain Pact to force the Nine Great Sect Leaders into a corner.

This is a problem."

Ting—Ting—

He tapped his index finger lazily against the rock surface. The noise it made was an odd, vibrating resonance.

A closer look revealed that he wasn’t actually tapping the rock. Two long, transparent blades lay beside a standard steel sword.

A dual sword wielder.

"That’s Liuli Spirit Blades. Be careful," Gun Yu-rin whispered through gritted teeth.

She didn't say his name. There was no need.

Sim Mu-ryeon’s Lord of Twin Blood Blades.

A master who wielded two divine weapons as if they were his own wings.

The youngest among the Three Martial Lords.

An absolute prodigy who had, at an unprecedented age, become the Grand Heir’s swordmaster. His innate sword talent was said to be monstrous.

There was a famous story about the Sect Leader of Heng Mountain—one of the Nine Great Sects—offering to take him as a disciple when he was just a child.

The martial world had been in an uproar over it at the time.

But that was none of Jeong Yeon-shin’s concern.

"I’ll ask one last time. What happened to the people of this village?"

He spoke as he slowly refined his body with Jade Body Arts.

The microscopic traces of energy within his 365 meridian points shifted, flowing steadily.

The energy in his thighs rose to his waist, then to his shoulders and wrists—gradually compressing and expanding. Preparing for battle.

There’s no time to worry about internal injuries.

Had Lord of Twin Blood Blades sensed it?

The hem of his white robes twitched slightly.

"I have no reason to take unnecessary risks here," the man said.

"Leave the Lady behind and go back. Do whatever you want in Shanxi—I won’t interfere.

If you turn around and leave now, the village will return to normal."

"What makes you think I’d believe that?"

"I swear on my own name. As the Lord of Twin Blood Blades. That should be more than enough for a Lord of Imperial Huang City to accept, no?"

The meaning was clear.

He had taken the villagers hostage.

"How about you just be straightforward?"

The one who {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} spoke this time was Yoo Hyeon.

The embroidery of plum blossoms on the sleeve of the young Daoist fluttered elegantly.

"I know why Sim Mu-ryeon doesn’t know its place. You receive the imperial court’s protection in exchange for raising a martial force in the North, don’t you?

And I understand why you’re so reluctant to get tangled with Yeon-shin. It’s because he’s not as easy to deal with as he used to be.

The imperial court might even revoke your privileges."

His voice was steady, his words deliberate.

Even without Jeong Yeon-shin and Won-jeok beside him, he would have spoken just as directly. That was the pride of the Nine Great Sects.

Lord of Twin Blood Blades chuckled.

Ssss.

He slowly wrapped his fingers around the transparent Liuli Spirit Blades and his steel sword, then rose to his feet.

The rain, which had been falling in a gentle drizzle, abruptly scattered outward.

His internal energy was fully activated.

Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com.

He spoke.

"Sim Mu-ryeon’s mission is an undertaking of national scale.

Do you really think the Lord of the Radiant Abyss alone could replace the military force we supply to the northern front? No one in the world would believe that."

"That’s just your opinion," Yoo Hyeon shot back, slipping behind Jeong Yeon-shin’s shoulder.

"You think Lord of Ten Thousand Strategies couldn’t handle it?"

"Ridiculous," the Martial Lord of Sim Mu-ryeon scoffed.

"Looking at you now, I can tell.

The current Lord of the Radiant Abyss lacks the skill to single-handedly kill the Coiled Dragon Reincarnation.

Even accounting for your injuries, it’s the same.

Your age is what it is.

I don’t know what method you used at the time, but it’s clear the Imperial God Spear played a significant role."

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t respond.

He simply focused on sharpening his body.

The Assassination Sect, the Moyong Clan, and Sim Mu-ryeon.

Lord of Twin Blood Blades was a central force in Sim Mu-ryeon. If he fell here, Shanxi’s military forces would be thrown into disarray.

It would be Sim Mu-ryeon that lost a major piece.

The only problem was the villagers held hostage by his men.

At that moment—

As Jeong Yeon-shin locked eyes with him, they both came to the same conclusion.

"You would abandon the people?"

Lord of Twin Blood Blades smiled twistedly.

"If I give the signal, they all die."

Standing atop the rock, gripping two blades, his entire presence radiated lethal intent.

At the same time, the surrounding underbrush trembled.

Rumble—

The sound of approaching troops shook the ground.

Dozens.

Perhaps more.

They seemed to believe the injured Lord of the Radiant Abyss was theirs for the taking.

The Bi-ik Blood Sovereign was the commander.

His position was different from Gun Yu-rin, who stood beside Jeong Yeon-shin.

“He’s a man who perfected our sect’s sword techniques as dual-wielding. A talent that couldn’t be satisfied with just one blade.”

She muttered with a resigned look on her face.

“With your current condition, you won’t be able to fight him. No matter how strong Yeonhwa Nata is right now...”

Jeong Yeon-shin simply stared at her.

“What are you talking about? We already decided to go to Salmun (Assassin Sect).”

“I’ll just go back. Sorry for being a burden. You have the Four Great Vajras, who cherish you, so you should be able to break through. I had fun.”

Sah-bak.

Gun Yu-rin’s rough hair swept across his vision.

Despite what she had said, her movements were extremely light. A faint ripple pattern was left behind where her leather shoes pressed against the snowy ground.

It was the energy of her Protective Nerve Technique. Contrary to her resigned words, she was trying to get closer to Bi-ik Blood Sovereign—to stab him if possible.

“People’s lives, people’s lives.”

Bi-ik Blood Sovereign’s sneer deepened.

“The Imperial Phoenix Fortress is just a den of schemers scattering hostages across the land. Seeing the great Lord of Magwang completely paralyzed here... makes me think that perhaps a complete extermination wouldn’t be such a bad idea...”

“Namo Avalokiteshvara.”

A quiet Buddhist chant resonated.

It came from right beside Jeong Yeon-shin. Great Master Wonjeok, who had been standing still, finally moved.

Jeobeok.

They say that Shaolin’s martial arts are majestic. Just one step from the monk carried an immensely heavy presence.

Jeong Yeon-shin forced his senses to heighten. His Upper Dantian filled in an instant with a mysterious radiance.

He focused all his perception on Great Master Wonjeok, drawing in time itself like straw to a flame, using that peculiar sense unique to himself.

‘I was curious. This will definitely help.’

The sound of the pine needles rustling above ceased.

The wind suddenly slowed down.

The same was true for all movements and sounds in the surroundings. Before he realized it, he could see Great Master Wonjeok right in front of him, with his back turned.

Charging straight toward Bi-ik Blood Sovereign was the orange robe of the monk.

‘That’s...’

It didn’t seem particularly fast or urgent.

It was just movement.

Yet in this dulled world, only Great Master Wonjeok was moving, continuing toward Bi-ik Blood Sovereign.

A certain path could be felt. Along with a vast and powerful will.

—By forgetting movement, the boundaries of space cease to exist.

He couldn’t see it. Only the suction-like force that drew in his very flesh remained.

Jeong Yeon-shin was mesmerized, forcing himself to take a step. Even as the muscles on both sides of his thighs clenched like they were being twisted, he ignored the pain.

Within Great Master Wonjeok’s Protective Nerve Technique, he perceived a presence. As he climbed through the immense flow of time engraved into Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Absolute Arts, a sense of overwhelming familiarity struck him.

A warm solace spread through his chest.

For a brief moment, it felt like he had brushed fingertips with someone.

An inspiration that transcended time.

A great name flashed in his mind.

Bodhidharma.

‘A man just like me left behind...’

Swiik—!

Great Master Wonjeok stepped onto thin air.

His leather shoes rode the flow of the wind. He completely surrendered himself to the path formed by the absorption-like force that stretched in a straight line.

His vision blurred. Was it because he had forcefully entered the realm of transcendence? He began to see faint traces of blood in his vision. A few blood vessels in his eyes had likely burst.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t care. He simply stretched out his leg. Moving as if swimming through the sky.

Once. Twice. Three times...

...When he came back to his senses, he was standing on the eerily transparent blade.

One of Shimmu Alliance’s divine swords, the Glass Spirit Sword.

Hwaaaah—!

The ice-cold winter wind scraped against his skin. The time passage created by Shaolin’s Diamond Immovable Body had been lifted.

Below him, Bi-ik Blood Sovereign looked up at him with a face full of shock, while beside him, Great Master Wonjeok stood with his hands clasped behind his back, pressing down on another sword with his foot.

“Hm?”

The monk briefly made eye contact with Jeong Yeon-shin and slightly parted his lips. A rare show of emotion from the ascetic.

For a great monk like him to be visibly startled was no small thing.

“When did you get here, benefactor?”

“I’m just... used to things like this.”

Jeong Yeon-shin glossed over it.