Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 399: Hidden in the Shadows (8)

The mountain path was silent.

Only the brittle fallen leaves rustled against the parched earth, carried by a dry whisper of wind.

A breeze brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin’s skin—hot and devoid of moisture, carrying the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ oppressive air of a drought-stricken summer. Only the glaring sunlight roared overhead.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze settled beyond the shoulder of the young man standing before him.

The longer he stared at that singular point, the hazier his vision became.

At its center, a withered tree swayed feebly, its barren branches trembling in the empty sky. The sun burned unchallenged, with not a single cloud to soften its glare.

For a fleeting moment, the thoughts tangled in his mind unraveled.

Is the Squad Leader safe? If the Mount Hua Pact is invoked, who will Blue Rank and White Rank send to represent them...?

There was an unnatural stillness.

A formation, vast enough to conceal its true scale, was suppressing all presence beyond its reach.

It was not as precise as the arts of Amya Battlefront or the Bloodflame Cult.

It was subtle, effective enough to fool wandering vagrants searching for rare herbs or lost travelers.

But for evading the eyes of the world—it was more than sufficient.

This place was deep in an isolated mountain wilderness.

A vast spell formation, impressive by sheer magnitude alone, nestled within a land where no footsteps should ever tread. No faction’s hidden scouts would be able to find this place easily.

“...Taemo Mountain Fortress.”

Jeong Yeon-shin murmured, and the young man immediately reacted.

“So that’s where you’re from? No wonder you don’t look like an ordinary wanderer. Ah, I meant that in a good way. I’m eating at Yeoryeong’s table, you see—not exactly a direct disciple, but...”

His words carried a forced familiarity, but his expression remained wary.

Taemo Mountain Fortress was unlike any other of the Thirteen Heavens.

Even among unorthodox sects, its reputation was sharply divided.

A grand sect of spell-arts, splintered from Mosan Sect, always dragging along bizarre rumors wherever it went.

Claims that they offered commoners’ blood at temple altars to refine human flesh into nourishment, or that they stole the spiritual energy of sacred mountains for arcane experiments.

Step.

The unkempt-haired youth took a half-step back.

“Well, either way, you didn’t have to come all the way out here. As you probably know, this is Eighth Village. We’re quite far from Seventeenth Village, where all the chaos is happening. But strange rumors have been spreading about Taoist masters from the Nine Schools appearing in nearby villages... Be careful at the execution grounds. Whether it’s Plum Blossom Sword or Taiji Sword, they don’t tend to speak of the Dao in front of us, do they?”

A silver tongue. Definitely a warrior from one of the great factions.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently studied the young man’s face.

If he had arrived at the correct location, then this person was a beast that had to be slain. It meant he had a hand in the Singeom Squad Leader’s pursuit.

He spoke slowly.

“How vast is the interior?”

“...Huh? The spell formation was crafted by the sorcerers on that side, wasn’t it? You don’t seem to be of just any common rank.”

Suspicion flickered across the youth’s face.

A brief silence followed. His pitch-black eyes shifted between the Young Master of Amya Battlefront and Jeong Yeon-shin, before settling on the faded noble garments of the former.

Recognition flashed across his expression.

He failed to notice the slight movement of Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword hilt.

“Judging by your robes, you must be the distinguished one. That bow, the calloused skin... You’re from Amya Battlefront, aren’t you? Is Taemo Mountain Fortress guiding you?”

“...A useless question. How long do you intend to keep us standing here?”

The Young Master of Amya Battlefront urged impatiently, his tone formal.

He was a man who held his people in high regard.

From the moment the Grandmaster of Ming Stream secured the lives of Amya Battlefront’s disciples in Guizhou, he had been cooperating with Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Well, excuse me. This way.”

Grumbling under his breath, the unkempt-haired youth turned around.

None of the noble martial families harbored goodwill toward Ipwang Fortress.

Their very bloodlines symbolized the remnants of traitorous houses that had opposed the founding of the nation.

Compared to them, even the vagabonds within the formation deserved greater trust.

“You’d better keep up. Watch where you step.”

Shff.

His footsteps rapidly faded.

He had activated Lightness Technique, moving toward the formation’s Gate of Life.

A faint ripple of inner energy flowed from the Yongcheon Acupoint on his soles, yet not a single footprint remained on the dirt.

A foreign place.

Understanding the terrain and the situation came first.

Following behind, Jeong Yeon-shin spoke again.

“I asked how vast the interior is.”

“...Why ask? I’d advise you to stay here, in the Eighth Village. Stirring up trouble in the other villages won’t end well for you.”

“......”

“All the vagrants here were personally invited by Yeoryeong. Hand-picked and hired, every last one of them is proficient with the blade. And they’re all starving for meat and salt, desperate enough to kill for it. Unless you’re someone of master rank, like a recognized mentor of the execution grounds, they won’t even flinch at your presence...”

“I won’t ask three times.”

“...It’s insanely vast. Heavenly Net was crafted following the movements of ‘that man,’ or rather, predicting them. The size is beyond imagination. Even after this is all over, it’ll likely remain a permanent settlement. It’s more prosperous than most cities.”

“‘That man’?”

“The Master of the Transcendent Sword. That monster who bears the surname Yong.”

The youth spoke offhandedly, then added a warning with a smirk.

“If you act like this in the village, you’ll get yourself killed.”

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin remained silent.

This, too, was the world of martial arts, steeped in treachery. They had constructed over a dozen outposts just to eliminate a single leader of the Singeom Squad. It was akin to an enormous revolving formation, carefully laid out to ensnare its prey.

Meanwhile, So Jeon-ju, trailing behind Jeong Yeon-shin, glanced at him warily.

They had arrived precisely at their intended destination. The fact that no deception had been attempted with the monstrous carrion birds was proof enough.

— Will you relay my message to your leader, Myeongryu Lord? I sold out the stronghold to ensure the safety of the common folk. I deserve at least some measure of courtesy from you...

Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. His silence wasn’t due to So Jeon-ju’s transmission but rather because Ak Su-rim’s voice had suddenly echoed in his ears.

— Did you hear them babbling about eighth cousins, seventeenth cousins? It seems like the Yong Clan has prepared traps in every place they’ve passed through. Tactical formations, sheer numbers, poison, and even supreme martial masters—throwing everything at Danju to force him into a corner. It would be better for us to split up.

— Are you suggesting we form squads?

Jeong Yeon-shin responded through voice transmission.

— Exactly! There are twelve of us. How about four, four, three, and one? I’ll take Cheonryong and Cheon So-so to the village on the left. The rest can decide among themselves.

— And the one left alone...?

— That would be you. It was the same when Yong Danju led the Singeom Squad. He always fought as a lone sword.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

— ...If we all scatter, how do you plan to enter the formation? You might need my assistance...

— Oh?

A girl’s laughter suddenly tickled his ears, her tone filled with amusement.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

— Well, even for you or Yong Danju, it would seem unfamiliar. After all, Yong Clan has never led more than ten Black Rank warriors at a time.

— ...Pardon?

— That formation? Bo-hyeol could break through it just by setting foot on it. For Cheon So-so or Cheonryong, it would only take a single punch. Besides, Cheon So-so even has a sapling of the World Tree. Among all the treasures used in formation techniques, that’s the most supreme. It can act as a wall or a gate—whichever is needed.

Ak Su-rim spoke, her voice laced with laughter.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t listen to the rest.

Instead, he recalled the exquisite footwork of Jin Myeong-jo, the Blood Extreme Phantom, and acknowledged its possibilities. With such abilities, anything was feasible.

— You’ve worked hard all this time. Now, this is your final mission before we ascend to Beijing.

A whisper scattered into the refreshing early summer breeze. At last, they entered the city of the Heavenly Net, the intricate snare that Yeoryeongju had woven to deceive the world.

Jeong Yeon-shin left the command of the Singeom Squad leader behind him and imprinted his footsteps onto the earth. Thud. The sound of his steps reverberated, the solitary mountain path behind him fading into the distance.

***

The moment he stepped into the formation set deep within the remote mountains, a cacophony of noise struck his ears.

Shouts tinged with drunkenness, the grinding sound of whetstones against blades, thunderous snores, and the hollering of a shopkeeper trying to attract customers.

What lay before him was a fully-fledged village.

An inn clumsily built with stacked logs, a tavern puffing out smoke despite the absence of any scent of cooking food, and warriors sprawled lazily over the ground, rooftops, and anywhere else they could find.

Most carried weapons—swords, scythes, and other assorted armaments.

“......”

It was clear that some profitable opportunity had drawn them here. Whether it was a trade hub or a supply line for provisions, the rules of the martial world remained unchanged—ten thousand sacks of grain moved only at the command of a greater power.

Whenever someone provided an extravagant feast, it was almost certain that a contract or a master-servant relationship would be forged on the spot.

On one side, a group of ragged wanderers sat around a bonfire, casually discussing the state of the martial world. They paid no attention to Jeong Yeon-shin’s group.

“Are we certain that there’s no support coming from Ipwang Fortress?”

“I heard that Sichuan is in chaos. It’s a long way from here. Even with the fastest stallions, they’d have to switch horses multiple times.”

“What do you know about top martial masters?”

“Aren’t they just people too?”

It was then—

Bang!

A man suddenly landed before them with force, as if eager to show off his formidable body technique.

He was clad in dark blue silk, a luxuriously embroidered sword at his waist. Yet, despite his extravagant attire, his aura was coarse—he seemed no different from a common rogue.

“Why the hell did you take so long to return?! I thought something had gone wrong!”

“You’re making a fuss over nothing. As you can see, we had company.”

The shaggy-haired youth turned his body slightly, revealing Jeong Yeon-shin and So Jeon-ju.

The rogue flinched at the sight of Jeong Yeon-shin but, upon recognizing So Jeon-ju, nodded with a murmur. The Amya Battlefront...

“At least you didn’t bring in some random rabble. That’s a relief. Things are turning to chaos over at the Sixth Village.”

“What? The Sixth Village? But that guy was supposed to—!”

“He’s not an Inryong of Ipwang Fortress. It’s from the old sects—Mount Hua and Wudang. They must’ve caught the scent and wormed their way in.”

The rogue spoke as though he were chewing on his words, his expression twisted. The shaggy-haired youth ran a hand through his unkempt hair and scratched the back of his head.

“Damn it... If this spreads through the martial world, it’ll only be a matter of time before everyone knows. Don’t tell me their sect leaders are here themselves?”

“No way. Do you think the Sacred Flame Sword God or Wudang’s grandmasters would sneak around like spies? The ones who crossed over from the Sixth Village are Plum Blossom Swordmasters. True to their reputation, they looked down on us like we were nothing.”

“That’s hardly good news... Did you engage them?”

"It's a standoff. This is nerve-wracking."

"How many?"

"Five. One of them is really young."

"The Lord will take care of it somehow. People like us, we're just fireflies—our job is to do what we’re told. Let’s buy some time."

At the young man's words, Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyebrow twitched slightly.

Step.

He began walking slowly, passing between the vagrant and the young man without a word. The shaggy-haired youth reacted immediately.

"Hey? Don't approach recklessly. I have a plan. With a bit of luck, I can handle five Plum Blossom Swordmasters..."

"How many villages like this are there?"

"I don't know. As you can see, they're all hidden like this. The last one I know of is the Seventeenth Village."

At that moment—

A vagrant who had been glaring at Jeong Yeon-shin with distaste suddenly interjected.

"The higher-ups call this a 'trap' for that person, but it’s good for us. In times like these, you’ll find more food in these remote mountain villages than in half the cities out there."

"A trap?"

"My lips are too dry to talk any further. You look like you're carrying something valuable... if you had some liquor, maybe..."

A tongue clicking in anticipation cut through the air.

A powerful presence. The rough, predatory aura of a seasoned warrior brushed against Jeong Yeon-shin’s garments. Unlike his usual black robes, today he wore a simple hemp outfit as part of his disguise.

To talk about the threat of the orthodox sects one moment and then beg for alcohol the next—this was typical of vagrants. They prowled the lands like scavengers, looting for a day's worth of pleasure in a world that had long abandoned them.

Compared to Ma Gwang-ik's opium dens, this was nothing. Unlike Tae Yeom-ryong, who ruled the martial world with force, these were outcasts who had willingly wrapped themselves in the fate of transient ghosts.

"I'm curious about Yeoryeong Lord's intentions," Jeong Yeon-shin muttered to himself. Surely, they weren’t planning to take down the Singeom Squad leader with mere stragglers. It seemed that the real forces were concentrated elsewhere.

Regardless of his thoughts, the reaction around him was swift.

"What?"

The vagrant’s eyes widened sharply. The group that had ignored the newcomers suddenly focused on him, their gazes as sharp as blades.

An invisible meteor seemed to drop into the clearing. The only sound left was the eerie grinding of whetstones sharpening swords.

"Hey."

The vagrant took a step forward.

"Where are you from? No one who joined this Heavenly Net should be tossing around a name like the Thirteen Heavens Lord so casually..."

Dozens of men began to rise from their places, slow but deliberate.

The air grew heavy with thick killing intent, blending with the mountain wind.

Unlike the young guide, who had been tasked with escorting them, these vagrants had sharp instincts—men who had survived in the martial world without the protection of any great sect.

Jeong Yeon-shin simply stood still.

His eyes lowered slightly, and an almost imperceptible smile formed at the corner of his lips.

"His identity is suspicious. That demeanor is unfamiliar. He may not be an absolute master, but...!"

A man dressed in blue warrior robes suddenly drew his sword.

Shing!

The sound of the blade slicing through air cracked sharply.

The trajectory of his slash twisted unnaturally in midair, coiling and striking from unexpected angles—an exceedingly practical feint technique. He was nearly at the peak of Ascending Mastery.

And yet—

The sword aimed at Jeong Yeon-shin's throat suddenly veered off course, its path violently disrupted.

A third party had intervened.

Thud!

A fist buried itself into the vagrant’s side.

Violet energy scattered like fractured snowflakes.

A single punch had driven the man’s flesh deep into his abdominal cavity. The sickening crunch of shattered ribs followed immediately after.

The vagrant collapsed without resistance.

"You knew we were coming, didn’t you? You shouldn’t be wasting your strength here."

The boy who had just struck him brushed off his hands with a grunt. His white martial robe, embroidered with plum blossoms, billowed in the wind.

He had appeared out of nowhere and delivered a single devastating strike. His movement was casual, almost indifferent, yet his technique was dazzlingly refined.

"What the hell...!"

"An Amhyang Mark and Plum Blossom Fist!"

"The Mount Hua Sect! It's Mount Hua!"

The clatter of unsheathing weapons filled the area in an instant.

The young guide who had been leading Jeong Yeon-shin furrowed his brows and quickly retreated. Meanwhile, a shopkeeper emerged from the nearby inn, drawing two short blades from beneath his sleeves.

The young Taoist yawned widely.

His breath carried the distinctive ease of someone who had mastered internal energy flow—a luxury of true prodigies.

"The Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua... the youngest of the Plum Blossom Swordmasters."

"The front lines must have collapsed. I told you not to get complacent..."

"This place has already been passed through by that person. We were only ordered to keep an eye on travelers and to poison any man dressed like a Confucian scholar if he asked for water. There’s no reason to throw away our lives over nothing."

"I’ll warn you just this once!"

The vagrants whispered among themselves, while the shaggy-haired youth shouted in alarm.

The Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua, Yu Hyeon, lazily scanned the surroundings. Then, his gaze settled on Jeong Yeon-shin.

Their eyes met.

"Yeah, I'm the Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua. But what exactly were you all doing here? No one seems willing to answer..."

Yu Hyeon’s words trailed off.

The young Taoist’s pupils flickered with violet light.

The Zaha Divine Art’s Inner Vision Technique.

Mount Hua’s martial arts were considered one of the twin peaks of Daoist cultivation, alongside Wudang.

He had regarded Jeong Yeon-shin as just another competitor—someone he had noted in passing before. Yet now, his eyes widened in disbelief.

He recognized those features.

He recognized that profound, meticulously honed aura.

Yu Hyeon’s face froze.

“...Who the hell are you?"