Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 464: The Five Swords of the World (2)

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect dragged the completely shattered front brim of his bamboo hat down his back.

A soft swish echoed eerily through the forest, as the shredded remnants of straw scattered at the feet of the blind man.

“That’s far too ruthless to be called the Sword of Wisdom...”

He murmured.

Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin evaluated his opponent’s nature based on the technique he had just unleashed.

‘If I had aimed for his head, he would have dodged. There was enough of a gap for that.’

The Supreme Blade of the Unorthodox Path possessed an insight no lesser than Jeong Yeon-shin’s own technique of Seeing Through the Base. The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect had instantly realized that Yeon-shin’s strike had been aimed at his bamboo hat.

And yet, he hadn’t so much as tilted his head, deliberately experiencing the sword’s edge from up close. The difference between an inch and a yard was immeasurable. It was a boldness that only those obsessed with the sword could possess.

This man was different.

Jeong Yeon-shin thought. He could not dismiss him as a mere monkey or a stone. The wall of martial skill that the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect had built was too high.

His very soul seemed to have been wholly poured into the study of the sword. A man called the one who cleaves through the principles of the world itself. A madman no less than the Seventh Apostle.

“Regardless.”

Suddenly, the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect grinned.

“I must apologize for my rudeness.”

“What?”

“The time you hold is ten times denser than the fleeting years that common men let slip by. Like the leaves that play upon the wind before falling.”

“......”

“Because of you, my heart feels at ease.”

His gentle voice blended into the autumn breeze. At the end of summer, the crisp air of fall carried the scent of the season, as crimson leaves fluttered down between the two men.

Brushing past the long and spindly branches of a maple tree.

Rustle—

According to the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect, that tree was the ordinary people, and the reddish leaves were Jeong Yeon-shin. Ephemeral foliage, destined to wither and become nutrients, unlike the tree, which would live for decades more.

Like an ox stepping backward and catching a mouse, he had struck the truth. Since the moment Yeon-shin had achieved Threefold Internal Harmony, no one had been able to see through his lifespan.

—We are fated to vanish as stepping stones of history.

The dry voice of the Invincible One of So Cheon whispered in Yeon-shin’s mind. Words of the Lord of the Bright Sect, who claimed to have grasped the will of the heavens.

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had maintained a calm composure ever since acquiring the Song Moon Ancient Sword, furrowed his brow.

“Damn you.”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

It was meant as a rare and genuine compliment—so thought the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect as his words drifted into the autumn wind.

With that, his assessment of Jeong Yeon-shin’s technique was concluded, and the blind man, now missing his bamboo hat, once more lowered his sword.

Jeong Yeon-shin observed both the falling leaves and the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect, as /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ he sensed the now-distant presence of the fleeing commoners.

Amid the descent of red leaves.

He began to replay in his mind the sword techniques of the Supreme Blade of the Unorthodox Path that had pushed him into a corner. It was an instinctive process within his overheated mind.

The luminous traces of the sword’s trajectory split apart the acupoint atop his crown. A tingling sensation in the back of his head, akin to enduring a months-long closed-door meditation.

Just like that.

As a maple leaf, drifting through the air, landed atop a half-exposed tree root.

Crackle—

Jeong Yeon-shin vanished.

Where he had stood, a streak of colorless lightning remained. A remnant of the energy forming his Ultimate Thunderbolt.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect lifted his sword to his chest with a smile. He gripped the hilt with only one hand. The sword known as Winter’s Dream, the beloved blade of the Supreme Blade of the Unorthodox Path, gleamed with a sudden, cold blue radiance.

At the same moment, Jeong Yeon-shin, who had stepped upon the ground right beside the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect, brought his sword down.

Screeeeech!

A spark of Thunderbolt Lightning scraped past the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s shoulder, deflected by Winter’s Dream.

Even that much was enough to send fierce gales surging outward, tearing the falling maple leaves into shreds.

Unlike the precise strike that had severed the bamboo hat earlier, this was not a refined technique. His movements were wild and unrestrained.

Close-range combat.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s sword was the first to rise. In an instant, he unleashed a chained flurry, swinging Winter’s Dream ten times in succession.

The relentless rapid strikes split the air above and below. Jeong Yeon-shin parried three of them with the translucent energy of Ultimate Thunderbolt wrapped around his left hand, counterattacking six times in return.

Every one of his counters was the Pinnacle of the Kirin’s Extremity. The coordination of his left and right hands with the sword was seamless.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks erupted wildly, bathing both warriors in a reddish glow. The fragments of energy clashed, sending remnants of force scattering in all directions.

Through the fire and steel, the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect advanced a step forward. The distance between them narrowed in an instant, and from Winter’s Dream, locked against the blade of Thunderbolt Lightning, a violent gale surged forth—a shockwave generated by pure sword force.

Crack.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s feet dug deep grooves into the ground as he was pushed back. Even with Ultimate Thunderbolt overflowing through his body, the force was immense. As expected of one of the few in the unorthodox sects capable of contending with the Divine Sword Lord.

Amidst this contest of power, the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect spoke.

“If, by chance, you stop me here, this damned vast land of Hangzhou will face a great upheaval. The Dark Heaven Emperor, who has suddenly entered the Tiger Dragon Art, will lose the one and only adamantine armor.”

“How do you intend to use the Coiling Dragon?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked, exhaling white breath through the Wheel of Supreme Method. The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s clouded eyes curved in a smile.

“To make these chaotic times even more turbulent.”

“......”

“I don’t know about Cho Ryeol, but that is what I desire. That this vast world may become rich with stories.”

Even while fending off Thunderbolt Lightning with a single hand, his breath remained steady. The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect continued at a leisurely pace.

“Swords are, by nature, instruments that rise to greatness only when stained with blood. The stepping stones for my next realm... unfortunately, the Imperial Court’s oppression of martial artists has left too few worthy opponents. Even though martial supremacy is a matter of utmost importance to the entire martial world.”

“A completely useless martial fool.”

Jeong Yeon-shin remarked flatly, pressing his rear foot firmly into the ground.

“I won’t deny it.”

A faint smirk appeared on the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s lips.

“I’ve been beyond saving for a long time.”

Jeong Yeon-shin vaguely perceived the profound and turbulent years carried in his opponent’s voice. But it wasn’t something he could concern himself with.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect sought fulfillment by engraving those years into his martial arts, whereas Jeong Yeon-shin struggled to dissolve his life into time itself, like a mayfly.

From the moment he started facing those who had been tempered through decades of training as enemies.

Jeong Yeon-shin had buried his deeply ingrained sense of inferiority beneath futile thoughts of monkeys and stones.

Even after obtaining the Song Moon Ancient Sword from beneath the earth, that fundamental state of mind hadn’t changed. He had simply found a path to follow, granting him fleeting solace.

“A man drowning in fortune.”

In an instant, he drove his weight into his footing and executed a Midnight Leg Slash. His toes, sharpened like a blade, sliced through the air.

Boom!

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect chuckled as he stepped on Jeong Yeon-shin’s instep, nullifying the kick.

“Why is your legwork so sharp? Have you been training overnight?”

That was the beginning.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect tilted forward slightly, letting his sword flow as he closed the distance. The blade was set to graze past his side. Jeong Yeon-shin stepped back and twisted to the side.

Clang! Boom! Crash!

Their figures blurred like streaks of light.

As the pale blue light of Winter’s Dream and the milky glow of Thunderbolt Lightning clashed repeatedly, vast and heavy shockwaves erupted in layers. The ground beneath them sank continuously, as if struck by a meteor.

Hundreds of sword traces fell and were carved into the air in the blink of an eye.

Jeong Yeon-shin, swept up in the typhoon-like storm of sword light, felt a strange sensation—as if he were fighting dozens of swordsmen at once.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s sword techniques shifted between extremes. One moment, they were overwhelmingly forceful, the next, they bent fluidly, slicing into Yeon-shin’s forearm. Illusory feints flickered weakly before his eyes, only to suddenly unleash a violent gust strong enough to send Thunderbolt Lightning flying.

Illusory Sword, Transforming Stance, Feints, Strength Techniques, Spiral Movement, Blossoming Sword...

Every possible sword technique coexisted within a single individual. Even Jeong Yeon-shin found it hard to believe that he was fighting just one man—because each sword move had an entirely different nature.

But he did not falter.

Whenever the sword path of the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect unraveled like a tangled thread, moving so fast it was no longer a sword but light itself, Yeon-shin severed its flow with Radiant Sword Like Phosphorescence, carving a wound across the master’s waist.

And the very moment the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect stepped back ten paces and swung down his sword—

Yeon-shin lunged forward with the thrust of Firmament Torrent, shattering the sword aura in an instant.

Splatter!

He took a direct hit to the upper body. His opponent had a counterstrike ready.

A diagonal slash ran from his chest down to his waist. Fortunately, it was shallow.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes flashed white as he locked onto his opponent.

He caught the movement of the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s lips.

‘He’s completely possessed.’

Yeon-shin didn’t care.

His swordplay was flawless, like the completed arrangement of the Eight Trigrams in Daoist philosophy—without instability, without deviation. Even while taking a hit, he executed a step of Transcendent Flight, splitting open the ground beneath him.

Boom!

From below the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s feet, a jagged rock shot upward just as he was about to unleash another sword form.

Unconsciously, Yeon-shin had begun using his True Step as though it were a spell.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect abruptly leaped back, bursting into laughter.

Taking a rock head-on was nothing to him, but he was wary of the minuscule imbalance it might create—just enough of an opening for Thunderbolt Lightning to strike.

And then.

Something stirred from all directions.

Familiar presences closed in—Aksurim, of Ipwang Divine Spear, and another, much farther away, hurtling toward them like a meteor with overwhelming weight, exuding an aura so transcendental it could only belong to Great Master Wonjeok of Shaolin.

Beyond that, other grandmasters were concealing themselves, their stealth techniques so refined that even Yeon-shin could barely sense them unless they were mere steps away. Among them was the elusive shadow of Yulha Nangnang’s Silent Blade.

And no doubt, there were others—warriors so formidable that it was impossible to spare the mental capacity to detect them in the middle of this fight.

“This is troublesome.”

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect shook his head like a gambler about to reveal his hand.

“You fight without care for your own body, but unfortunately, I’m a wretched heretic, and I treasure my own safety above all else. Absolute balance is my creed.”

Then, with an utterly casual motion, he stomped his foot.

Thump—

From beneath his ragged straw sandals, a ripple expanded outward.

It happened in an instant.

The ground around Yeon-shin, from all sides—before, behind, left, right—was dyed in a blinding white.

At first, the waves of light were faint, but in mere moments, they formed into dozens, then hundreds of intangible swords.

They multiplied like clouds.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Their numbers grew immeasurable, forming an ocean of swords.

Buzz—

The sound of swarming bees.

Each one carried a tangible presence.

The sunlight pouring from above fractured and refracted in every direction.

It was no exaggeration to say that the entire world was now filled with light.

A transcendent sight.

And the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect stood atop the cloud of formless swords, his stance refined, his grip steady around the pale blue blade of Winter’s Dream.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin steadied himself, suppressing the overwhelming surge of Ultimate Thunderbolt coursing through him.

He felt the sheer presence exuded by the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect, who smiled slightly.

[I’ve won the game of perception. But to be honest, this technique takes no time to unfold. A thousand swords already exist within my mind.]

His intent rippled through the air, a divine energy that amplified his martial prowess exponentially.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect’s will spread through the atmosphere.

[To witness the end of the sword, I must unleash all that I have mastered in a single move. But it seems one blade alone is not enough. That is the limit of my talent.]

“Boundless Moonless?”

Yeon-shin asked, staring at him.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect nodded.

[As you see. Heaven’s Vast Sword Ocean—the name of the ultimate technique that will send you to the River of Three Crossings.]

“...There’s something I want to ask.”

[I’ll allow it, as long as it’s under twenty words.]

“If someone has learned only two martial arts in their life, can they combine just those two and reach Boundless Moonless?”

Yeon-shin’s question was quiet.

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect counted the words in his head, then smiled.

[It depends on depth. Martial arts are relative, but Boundless Moonless is absolute—entirely dependent on oneself. The essence is to manifest every technique ever learned into a single stroke.]

At those words, Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly for the first time.

“I can’t achieve it, then.”

[Interesting. Why do you think that?]

“For me, every moment is martial arts. The number of techniques keeps increasing without end.”

[Ah...]

The master of Heavenly Extreme Sect sighed with amusement.

[A fate befitting a heavenly grandmaster. A lamentable yet utterly unique limitation.]

Yeon-shin simply stared at him in silence.

To all the supreme masters, time was layered.

It was the inevitable flow of sun and moon, an accumulation of countless days and years. A dazzling existence beneath the passing of the celestial bodies.

As he carved his path through the vast world, Yeon-shin felt despair seep into him like rain. A burden that had grown unconsciously—the weight of martial arts increasing ceaselessly, beyond his own will.

Heaven had gifted a mayfly the qualities of a dragon.

To achieve Boundless Moonless, one had to pour their entire existence into it.

For Jeong Yeon-shin, it was an unreachable realm.

But before the Song Moon Ancient Sword, he had realized something.

That he, too, possessed something equal to the passage of time.

The bonds he had formed with others.

The years that had accumulated through those who crossed paths with him. The emotions they had poured into him.

One life was a single existence.

Two combined became two lifetimes.

Beyond that, he did not know. His limit remained at two.

That was the Boundless Moonless that Yeon-shin had chosen.

Inferior as a person, yet not lacking in what he had gathered.

Through the Supreme Master of Three Peaks’ philosophy of the Great Absolute, he had entered his own unification.

The greatest opportunity of his life.

A cradle of martial arts, woven from the fates he had entwined with others.

‘The Vast Great Absolute.’

The Supreme Master of Three Peaks had once engraved the Great Absolute with the body of a dragon.

In his mind, that vast circle took shape.

A young man, clutching a folded fan, who had perished at his father’s hands.

A young swordsman, who met his end on his own terms.

Their images dissipated like mist, blending into the great cycle.

At that moment.

The fan and the sword folded into a single, straight line in the depths of Yeon-shin’s black eyes.

At the same time, the Ultimate Thunderbolt surging from his waist to his shoulders merged with the dragon entwined around the fan.

[Your spirit is not ordinary. Since my absolute technique is prepared, let us settle this.]

Shing.

As the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect lifted his foot from the metal surface—

At last, a formless divine presence began spilling outward from Yeon-shin’s body.

The very air trembled.

A single name of a technique, brief as a ship’s horn, rang out.

[Entering the Path, Crossing Beyond.]

A space of flowing blades.

Yeon-shin subtly shifted his grip on Thunderbolt Lightning and stepped forward.

He knew immediately.

He would reach him.

To himself, his movements felt slow, as though swimming through space.

Yet in truth, his speed was identical to that of the master of Heavenly Extreme Sect—who was simultaneously unleashing an unfathomable storm of swords, sending forth countless blades from all directions.

Even the widening of his clouded eyes appeared slow yet vividly clear.

‘With this—’

Yeon-shin followed the line carved into his vision.

Sweeping Thunderbolt Lightning sideways.

‘I can stand against your years.’

The trajectory he drew cut across the ocean of swords.

Becoming a single, unbroken horizon.

Boom—!

Within the rumbling thunder and cascading waves of light—

An arm was severed.