Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 327: Boundless Sky (6)

The scene unfolded beneath a dust cloud mixed with pure white sunlight.

In the midst of a hovering stance and flying sword technique, the contrast between the two figures was striking. It was a rare sight to behold, an exceptional spectacle in the world.

The shadow of the Great Swordmaster of Seonghui, Mo Yongjun, stepped onto the air, while Jeong Yeon-shin, known as Yeonhwa Nata, soared above, riding his sword, which had seemingly appeared in his hands at the perfect moment.

Dust swirled from the ground as the battlefields of rocks released a haze, resembling an artist's brushstrokes. It was a standoff akin to a painting.

Below, a stunned murmur escaped from the crowd. Ma Gwang-ik, witnessing the scene, heard the voices of his companions.

"My heavens... So that was indeed a flying sword technique! Now I can really feel it."

"He seemed envious of the great lord's stature, but he's using his own grand method..."

"That's the flying sword technique, isn't it?!"

The mix of astonishment and jokes reflected the martial master's nature. In the midst of such tension, there was still a sense of leisure.

The white Northern Bright Sword under his feet cut through the air as Mo Yongjun silently stared ahead.

The grayish aura, like a curtain, shrouded the form of Mo Yong's adversary, meeting his gaze.

"..."

The eyes of the greatest in the land, Mo Yongjun, gleamed with a cold flash.

There was a fierce intensity in those eyes, as if dozens of sword blades were compressed into a single beam, ready to strike. Even with only his shadow visible through the dust, his presence felt more like something otherworldly than human.

Jeong Yeon-shin pondered the difference between this figure and Zhuge Hyeon, the head of the Zhuge Clan.

‘Pure martial force...’

It was different from the use of spells or techniques. This wasn't about vast changes or limitless variables. He was simply strong. There was no need for intricate martial techniques or divine weapons. His life was reflected in the sword alone, no matter his past.

Was it because of the contrasting martial arts styles? The difference between these two figures wasn't something that could be easily decided.

However, not all of the martial masters were the same. The higher the strength, the wider their world grew.

Even the highest ranks among black-clad experts varied in their abilities, and as for the leaders of the Dae Bang Sect, their prowess must have exceeded all expectations.

‘In any case, this will be a battle fought on the ground.’

It was impossible to withstand such a technique while airborne. In a contest of sword techniques, the one able to wield their sword freely in mid-air would always have the advantage.

The flying sword technique had been used to draw Mo Yongjun's attention, and a strike from a master swordsman shouldn't go astray.

At that moment, a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Focus your mind."

A figure with noble posture spoke, their shadow standing tall.

"You’ll need more than just sword energy."

The absolute ruler of the land spoke calmly, offering what seemed to be advice.

There were no more words exchanged. Mo Yongjun, the master swordsman, no longer looked downward but fixed his gaze solely on Jeong Yeon-shin.

He knew Mo Yongjun’s subordinate had been slain by Jeong Yeon-shin. Still, he said nothing.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn't respond.

There was no need to communicate with such a figure. It was foolish to attempt negotiation with a demon wielding a sword.

He was the enemy of Hyeon Won-chang, and Jeong Yeon-shin had watched as his son perished before him.

The bitterness of their rivalry was something that couldn’t be resolved, no matter how either side tried to ease it.

‘It can’t be helped if it leads to death. I must fulfill my duty.’

He circulated the radiant energy through his body, passing through his eyes and illuminating them with a blue glow as it reached the Dongjaryo Acupoint.

The technique activated, sending energy through the pathway between his optic nerves and Baihui. His vision turned white as a bright flash overwhelmed his senses.

Mo Yongjun, wielding the Celestial Sword, attacked suddenly.

‘Let’s go.’

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke to his Northern Bright Sword.

The sword responded to its master’s intent immediately, reacting far differently from when his body was still bound by the limitations of unrefined skills.

He shot upward, riding his blade like a comet.

A powerful surge of wind blasted past his boots, the tremor of the Celestial Sword’s force shaking the air.

Despite Jeong Yeon-shin’s swift evasion, the sword energy still rattled the air around them, a display of Mo Yongjun’s unparalleled skill.

“You—”

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There was a trace of surprise in Mo Yongjun's voice.

Amidst the tumult, Mo Yongjun's voice became clearer, as his figure ascended through the sky like a celestial being, his every movement cutting through the air with fluid grace.

The confidence in his mastery over the battlefield was palpable. Jeong Yeon-shin's method had already taken priority, while Mo Yongjun remained unfazed, preparing to settle the duel.

“I’ll let my neck rest here.”

The words hung in the air before Jeong Yeon-shin’s face.

In that moment, Ma Gwang-ik felt a sudden, unspoken sense of gratitude, though he almost spoke it aloud. It was a demeanor he had seen countless times from the monkeys of his enemies—uncertain of survival, yet somehow comforted.

The sunlight, descending brightly, met his gaze.

The middle-aged man, with unusually thick eyebrows, had an impression of being both steadfast and fierce, blending with his transcendent aura.

Dressed in a spotless white robe, he looked as though he were a celestial being from the sky.

In mid-air.

Jeong Yeon-shin crossed a peak without a word. Mo Yongjun, gripping his sword, followed with a ghostly slowness.

Thud.

Ma Gwang-ik, with an expression pretending to be unfazed, landed on the dusty clearing. Mo Yongjun also planted his feet firmly on the ground.

Both were swordsmen. The ground, so easy to stand on, was more comfortable than the air. After the dull sound of their feet hitting the ground, the silence between the two grew heavier.

A rocky mountain in the barren wilderness.

It was only a short distance. To the absolute masters, it felt like nothing.

Jeong Yeon-shin met Mo Yongjun’s gaze and stretched out his hand.

Thud.

The Northern Bright Sword, floating lightly, landed in his grip. At the same time, he transferred the vision of a fan made of light from his sword towards Mo Yongjun.

A divine technique. The Dragon's Transformation.

In his mind, a dragon appeared suddenly, gripping the sword as it soared towards Mo Yongjun’s crown.

Thud, thud, thud―

The sound of hooves.

The ominous presence of a beast rushed towards them at an incredible speed. Jeong Yeon-shin’s senses, honed and directed towards Mo Yongjun, were too late to react.

It seemed Mo Yongjun was the same. His eyes shifted slightly faster than Jeong Yeon-shin’s.

A giant dust storm rose from the ridge. The sound of over a hundred people united in force reached them.

“Sim Mu-ryeon.”

Mo Yongjun muttered.

Jeong Yeon-shin had already suspected it.

This was the martial force he had only heard of in rumors. It was different from the group led by Gun Yurin. The strength emanating from them was immense, and even in Sim Mu-ryeon, they seemed extraordinary.

At the forefront, a man dressed in fur from head to toe was flying towards them, his feet brushing the ground.

He was a colossal figure, surrounded by a translucent aura like a fortress.

His aura, like that of a wandering immortal, was striking, and his demeanor was calm, though his eyes gleamed with a terrifying intensity as he drew closer.

The air trembled constantly. An intangible military force, formed of internal energy, pierced the sky.

Thud, thud, thud―!

They were charging while maintaining a tight formation. The internal energy, amplified by their coordinated efforts, surged as it approached.

Each of them was aiming their blades at Jeong Yeon-shin. These were the direct followers of Sim Mu-ryeon. Their strength was obvious even before testing it.

“Gun Wi-ho. He's serious.”

Mo Yongjun's mouth curved into a faint smile. Was it the ease of a master swordsman?

Even when facing an equal, he didn’t lose his characteristic calm. He could retreat at any moment, he knew.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at Jeong Yeon-shin.

“You are skilled in short, decisive battles. I will take their heads before they arrive.”

“You seem quite at ease.”

Jeong Yeon-shin responded briefly, thinking ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) again of the fan held by the Dragon.

“There is no Sword Saint here.”

Mo Yongjun continued.

“Even Namgung Ah-hye’s corpse won’t protect you.”

He spoke of the Murim Alliance.

The greatest in the land, Mo Yongjun, showed no concern for the incoming martial forces.

He and Ma Gwang-ik were familiar with each other. They had crossed paths several times during the faction wars.

Back then, Jeong Yeon-shin had supported the leader of the Murim Alliance by retrieving the corpse of the White Qilin from the Zhuge Clan.

Mo Yongjun's influence, aligned with the Zhuge Clan, had even been diminished by this. If he wanted to maintain his position in the alliance, he needed to sever ties.

Just now, Mo Yongjun had pointed out Jeong Yeon-shin’s situation.

It meant that neither his backing nor his justification would protect him in this moment. He was right.

The Sword Saint and the factions that followed him, such as Hahoe Wi-jin’s Heavenly Army, Ak Su-rim from Ipwang Fortress, and even the White Qilin’s corpse, had no presence here.

The times were shifting. The Murim Alliance was only a signal of what was to come. Martial artists from across the land were breaking the royal family’s sword while calling for change.

Now, Ipwang Fortress could no longer block the unity of the various factions. The central office, always short-handed, could not handle it.

Complete isolation.

At this moment, Jeong Yeon-shin was like the current Ipwang Fortress. His situation was such. Only the hearts of the three people of Ma Gwang-ik, who were now emerging from the underground, reached him.

The martial forces coming up with their swords drawn numbered over a hundred. The leaders of the Great Beggars' Sect, with their overwhelming presence, two of them.

This was the world of martial artists where Yeonhwa Nata was entrenched.

It became a target of great attention, no less than the powerful new figure of the Ipwang Fortress.

[Throw down your sword.]

The dry voice of the Six Harmony War God struck like lightning in his ears.

It rang out from the leading mounted warriors scaling the gentle hill. The leader of Sim Mu-ryeon, with the regal stature of a military king, approached and spoke.

[Ma Gwang-ik's Jeong Yeon-shin. If you do not resist, we will treat you as a prisoner. Do not raise your sword just because you have Mo Yongjun in front of you.]

Sim Mu-ryeon’s voice slowly faded.

It wasn’t that his voice had dropped in volume. The absolute energy in his throat flashed with a colorless brilliance.

He was in the extreme state of Samhwa Cheongjeong. His energy responded to the slightest movement. Perhaps he had even stepped into the realm of Five Qi Returning to the Origin, where blood and pulse are formed of pure martial power.

The internal energy wave brushing past his throat meant he was actively moving the muscles and ligaments in his vocal cords.

[This...]

The words of the absolute being suddenly stopped and echoed like a fading reverberation.

"Those bastards."

Whoosh—!

The harsh voice fell into the air, and the sunlight unraveled in all directions like thread.

It was as though the world was confused between day and night.

Countless rays of light that had been lighting up the ridges twisted and turned, and beneath them, shadows flickered in every possible form. Colorless fragments of extraordinary energy created and disappeared from the surroundings.

Swoosh—!

The distant sky was the origin.

The form, which had only been a black dot, rapidly grew larger. Along with the torrent of martial energy pouring down like a tidal wave.

The face had thick and distinct features.

He appeared to be around thirty years old. With arms crossed, hovering above in the air, ripples in concentric circles constantly rose from the area around him.

The atmosphere around his body twisted and unraveled in a deep pink hue. Amid this, the immovable long cloak and the violet beads hanging from his waist were oddly out of place.

There was no grace, no elegance in his posture.

However, for those looking up from the ground, what they saw was a monstrous force tearing through space itself, descending like a creature in human form.

As he sharply shook one sleeve, the air was marked.

It was one of the moves of the Grand Strike.

A strange blue wave dropped over the heads of the charging mounted warriors.

A fiery shockwave formed a burning ring of light in the blink of an eye. Immediately, a heavy vibration twisted the space like flames.

Hwahwa Yeonjin Method. Sword Yang.

Boom—!

Over a hundred mounted warriors were crushed and shattered at once.

In an instant, the burst of blood scattered in all directions, turning into white vapor as it disappeared, while blue flames in the surrounding area swirled like petals in the wind.