Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 427: Grandmaster (1)

Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly regained his senses. The banquet hall was teeming with renowned martial artists from the righteous sects.

‘Tsk.’

A delayed wave of pain surged through his hand. A searing burn. His grip on the sword hilt had been completely torn apart.

Drip. Drip.

Beads of blood trickled down, staining the soil beneath the edge of the Divine Sword, Yeorei. Dark crimson dots spread across the ground, one by one.

That was the only sound reverberating in the silence.

Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his eyelids slightly.

Every experience was invaluable.

Instinctively, he began replaying the exchange in his mind.

The breathing of supreme martial artists was extraordinarily long.

Even though he had shared only a single breath with the Peng Family Head, they had actually exchanged nearly twenty moves.

Facing an unfamiliar Gongwolmu head-on.

Samdo Wi Bong-shin (Forest Blade, Sealing the Gods)...

A tidal wave of blade strikes. To navigate the surging currents of the Gyeongpa technique, Jeong Yeon-shin had to unravel every last technique of Timeless Bloom: Boundless Current and Thunderous Sword: Cleft Ridge Strike.

The recoil was immense. The meridians from his palm to his elbow were left in tatters.

An internal injury along the Hand Taiyin Lung Meridian. For a moment, it felt as if lightning crackled within his arm.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s martial arts had never been about yielding flexibility.

He had crushed the Life-Saving Knot Technique of the Peng Family Head with Yeorei Sword, and the result—Peng Family Head’s upper body blown apart.

Stronger than the Ghostly Tyrant King.

Peng Yeol-ran’s swordsmanship, in terms of sheer ferocity, fell short compared to her son’s. Likely due to her seclusion within the impregnable tactical formation of the Flood Dragon.

Once again, Jeong Yeon-shin was reminded of the importance of real combat.

And he mused—he had gained decades' worth of experience in mere moments. This one was especially valuable.

So was the outcome of this duel.

The martial arts of the Nine Great Sect Leaders ran too deep to gauge. For them, such short duels would rarely be decisive.

Thus, this moment had to be used to announce that Ipwang Fortress stood strong.

Then—

“...Unbelievable.”

A dazed voice rang out.

Crunch.

A woman stepped toward the remains of the Peng Family Head.

Her gaze was razor-sharp, her jet-black hair braided long on either side.

She was known as Ga In-hu, the Midnight Phantom of the Peng Family.

Each step she took sent an audible crack through the air—bones shifting, joints stretching.

A secret art. A pinnacle of mystery.

Her previously petite frame transformed.

Her limbs elongated rapidly, causing the hems of her trousers to ride up her calves. Her meticulously braided hair unraveled, cascading down her back.

Just as the rumors claimed.

The Yogic Divine Art of Tianzhu—a technique that reshaped bones and muscles without backlash.

A martial art imbued with a unique spiritual essence.

A divine skill born from the homeland of Bodhidharma.

Step.

Now towering over him like an entirely different person, Ga In-hu halted just before Jeong Yeon-shin.

“To think... she would die like this.”

She murmured, staring blankly at the shattered remains of the Peng Family Head.

“Recover the body.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke, indifferent.

The entire martial world was watching. He had to uphold the dignity of Ipwang Fortress’ Purple Rank.

Ga In-hu lifted her head.

“...I knew you were strong, but this is beyond monstrous.”

Jeong Yeon-shin gave no response.

Soon enough, she would succeed her fallen predecessor as the new Peng Family Head, but at this moment, she was not yet someone of equal standing to exchange words with a Purple Rank of Ipwang Fortress.

Especially not in a place like this, with the eyes of countless warriors upon them.

Schlink—

The ghostly pale blade of Yeorei slid back into its sheath.

At the same time, the radiance enveloping Jeong Yeon-shin’s entire body vanished in an instant. He had dismissed both his weapon aura and protective energy.

Only then did the hall erupt in sound.

“Hahh...!”

“The Grand Absolute Saber fell so easily... No, if it’s Jeong Yeon-shin, then isn’t he Ma Gwang-ik’s successor...?!”

“Send the emergency message—immediately...!”

“A new Purple Rank! Ipwang Fortress has a new Purple Rank...!”

Shock rippled through the crowd like a storm. The sheer weight of their emotions was almost tangible.

The hall plunged into turmoil. Some warriors sat dazed, struggling to process what they had just witnessed. Others hurriedly left their seats in haste.

Jeong Yeon-shin alone remained unmoved.

Resting his palm on the hilt of his sword, he turned his thoughts toward the Tang siblings.

A duel of life and death had erupted unexpectedly.

Thanks to the starlight-forged garments they had gifted him, he had escaped with only an injured right arm.

A negligible price.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He had slain the Peng Family Head before the eyes of the entire martial world. As a newly instated Purple Rank, he had left a formidable impression.

And more than anything—

"A mere White Rank warrior sent the Peng Family Head to the River of Three Crossings. He was the one who provoked the wrath of a Purple Rank."

Ga In-hu cast a glance at Shin So-bin, who stood at a distance, still holding the lifeless body of her former adversary.

Jeong Yeon-shin did not deny it.

In truth, the prestige of the Purple Rank and the reputation of Ipwang Fortress were secondary to him.

Even when the Peng Family Head had Shin So-bin’s life at her mercy, such matters had not entered his mind.

My successor...

From the moment those who upheld the lineage of Seomye in his homeland had bowed to him in unison, a strange, compulsive reassurance had taken root in his heart.

That even if he were to perish young, his name would live on in the memories of those who had acknowledged him. That his mark would remain in the world.

There was an old saying: Life and legacy passed down. Originally, it referred to a Buddhist disciple inheriting their master’s robe and alms bowl.

In the martial world, it meant a disciple entrusted with the essence of their master's martial arts.

For Jeong Yeon-shin, that disciple was Shin So-bin.

Ipwang Fortress forbade personal master-disciple relationships, and yet, she had declared herself Ma Gwang-ik’s chief disciple—and had always upheld the dignity that came with it.

Just as she was doing now.

"Hurry up. That guy keeps talking to the Great Lord. It's inappropriate."

Shin So-bin prodded Tae Yeom-ryong’s back with a finger.

Since the end of the duel, Tae Yeom-ryong had been chewing on yangguibi, idly holding it between his lips. At her insistence, he gave a dramatic sigh and finally stepped forward.

"Peng... Ya? Is your ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) name Peng Ya?"

Tae Yeom-ryong deliberately dragged out his words, his voice slow and lazy.

Anyone could see it was an obvious provocation.

Yet even in such an insolent posture—one leg lazily propped over the other—his bearing as the eldest son of the Hwangbo family remained evident.

"How long are you going to just stand there holding your father? The elder has settled his debts through the life-and-death duel. Don't humiliate him in front of others—bury him in a dignified place. My condolences."

"You insolent bastard from the Hwangbo family."

Ga In-hu’s lips twisted in anger.

"I heard you won the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering multiple times while traveling to and from the Forbidden City. Was that just childhood glory? I see you haven't even completed the Three Blossoms Refinement, yet you dare to stand before me."

"We're both from noble families, aren't we? No need to be so sharp. This is hardly appropriate in front of the Great Lord."

Tae Yeom-ryong scratched the back of his head, his shadowed eyes betraying no reaction.

In many ways, he was far more shameless than Jeong Yeon-shin.

But Ga In-hu remained unfazed. Her formidable aura was unwavering, the sharp martial energy radiating from her body unchanged.

Even as she faced Jeong Yeon-shin, who had turned slightly away.

Earlier, she had claimed to view her father as nothing more than the Family Head. But deep down, that had never truly been the case.

Just as Jeong Yeon-shin had once filled his childhood void with martial mastery, she, too, must have harbored an unspoken weight.

Ga In-hu slowly parted her lips.

"I have no interest in bickering with a yangguibi addict. Weren't the Huashan accords a four-on-four duel to begin with? Ma Gwang-ik’s words were correct. My family has suffered only a single defeat.

Ipwang Fortress has not won."

"And?"

"I will return after arranging the next duel. Move aside."

Her voice grew sharper.

"Tae Yeom-ryong, you are in no position to speak on behalf of a Purple Rank."

And then, as if to herself—

"A man who won’t even last three more years."

Wooong—

A faint resonance stirred at Jeong Yeon-shin’s waist.

The instant he heard those words, the energy of Divine Dragon’s Duality flared to life on its own.

If he were to strike Ga In-hu down here as a Purple Rank, he would be completely disrupting the Huashan accords.

But the noble ideal Jeong Yeon-shin had always upheld was this—

A gentleman does not yield in the face of irreconcilable values.

At that moment, as the Divine Sword Yeorei prepared to leap from its sheath—

"Ga In-hu, that is enough."

A youth clad in an ink-black robe stepped forward, blocking her path.

His long, neatly kept hair, his upright posture—everything about him radiated refinement.

White Qilin Namgung Hwa-shin.

"You would do well to restrain yourself. That duel was an official match. And more importantly—the Purple Rank of Ipwang Fortress is still present."

"White Qilin...?"

"Indeed, Namgung Hwa-shin. If the Young Family Head continues to be disrespectful, I will step in personally. And if that happens, I will have no time to concern myself with the remains of your late father."

His voice rang clear.

It carried a firm and cooling presence, calming the chaotic air.

“...Hmm?”

Jeong Yeon-shin cast a sideways glance at the yangguibi addict, who let out a dazed exhale.

Was Tae Yeom-ryong so shocked by Namgung Hwa-shin's black martial robes?

It was rare to witness such a sight. Worth remembering.

What a useless man.

"Oh ho."

Ga In-hu’s lips curled into a smirk.

"The next sacrificial pawn of Ipwang Fortress, is it? How unfortunate. There’s only one true force of calamity here—Yeonhwa Nata. The rest of you don’t frighten me in the slightest."

"What you think does not concern us," Namgung Hwa-shin said evenly. "It would be wise not to make reckless assumptions about the ranks of Ipwang Fortress."

"Say whatever you want. Not everyone who learns the Muscle Reversal Technique turns into a saint like Bodhidharma.

My family will put the Seomye lineage to the test."

Her intent was clear.

Throughout history, many martial techniques had burned brightly for a time, only to fade away.

But only a select few had stood the test of time—those belonging to the Nine Great Sects, the Eight Noble Families, and the Thirteen Heavens.

The question Huashan posed to Jeong Yeon-shin was simple.

Could the Seomye lineage stand among them?

A martial tradition so young, barely more than a fleeting ember in the annals of history.

"Very well," Ga In-hu said, grinning.

"In three days, at this very place, we will settle the remaining duels.

Ipwang Fortress must present White Rank, Blue Rank, and Black Rank warriors who bear the Seomye lineage."

"......."

Namgung Hwa-shin cast a brief glance behind him.

Only when he saw Jeong Yeon-shin give a faint nod did he finally respond.

"Understood."

Step.

Without hesitation, Ga In-hu turned and strode away, exiting the banquet hall.

On the dirt floor, as she walked—

Damp footprints trailed behind her.

Her embroidered shoes were soaked in cold sweat.

But no one mocked her for it.

Ga In-hu had stood within the reach of Jeong Yeon-shin’s killing intent—yet she had spoken of the Peng Family’s inevitable victory.

An immense fortitude of spirit.

Yet even that moment was short-lived.

Before long, every gaze in the hall—burning with fierce intensity—locked onto Jeong Yeon-shin.

Or rather, onto the new Purple Rank mantle draped over his shoulders.

And not a single one of those gazes wavered.

***

Dengfeng County had flourished into a grand city under Shaolin’s influence.

Security was strong, and even rice was abundant—making it a self-sustaining martial world of its own.

Most rumors were ignored. It was rare for anything to stir the entire city.

But today was different. A great commotion had erupted.

The ascension of Yeonhwa Nata of Seomye to the Purple Rank.The death of Peng Mun-geuk, the Grand Tyrant Blade, in a mere few exchanges.To call it an uproar would be an understatement.

At the very moment when countless warriors from the righteous factions had gathered, the Peng Family Head had perished.

And not just defeated—he had died in battle.

"The Huashan accords have been initiated!"

"Move the funds now! Withdraw from the Peng side! Invest in Hogwang!"

Voices echoed across the vast Green Jade Sword Arena.

The Huashan accords, originally a private agreement between Ipwang Fortress and the Nine Great Sects, were returning to their starting point.

If the Seomye lineage could defeat the Peng Family, then it was inevitable.

Shff.

Jeong Yeon-shin, seated in a makeshift office, unfolded a letter.

The parchment was filled with neatly inked calligraphy—a detailed report.

"I arranged for internal duels within the martial lineage. The report you are reading contains the results," said Namgung Hwa-shin, standing opposite the desk.

It was a new Black Rank warrior reporting to a newly ascended Purple Rank.

Namgung Hwa-shin’s report was thorough—far superior to the half-hearted work of Tae Yeom-ryong.

Though he had never outright requested to inherit the Heavenly Sword and Profound Qilin Techniques, in matters of duty, he was flawless. Just as he had been during the Martial Alliance Assembly in Hanzhong.

"It is as written.

First, Sam-bok, the Blue Rank warrior of Squad of the Bright Stream, has profound mastery of Hwanikbo but struggles in close-quarters combat.

Meanwhile, Wi Ye-ryeong, the Bow Ghost of Ma Gwang-ik, has achieved great proficiency in footwork and can effectively counter the Peng Family’s Five Tiger Severing Sabers with precision archery.

As for Hwang Cheong of Seonmok Ridge, his talent in Brilliant Light Swordsmanship has reached its peak. However, his temperament is weak—making him unsuitable against the vengeful Peng warriors.

That said, if Ma Gwang-ik himself were to commend him, his morale could soar, allowing him to perform beyond his actual abilities."

Namgung Hwa-shin’s explanation flowed effortlessly.

Personality traits of each individual.Strengths and weaknesses in their martial techniques.Who was best suited for the upcoming battle against the Peng Family.It was not just one or two names.

His report was meticulous, leaving Jeong Yeon-shin with a strange feeling—even after his recent reunion with Ma Gwang-ik.

It felt like being the owner of a pasture, raising and selecting fine livestock.

“...I should see them in person.”

"As you may have sensed, I have already gathered them. However..."

Namgung Hwa-shin hesitated slightly.

"Hm?"

"...The majority have never received direct instruction from you. There may be a lack of legitimacy in their claim to participate in the Huashan accords..."

Jeong Yeon-shin wordlessly rose from his seat.

It was time to personally impart his teachings to those who now claimed his martial lineage.

He had truly become a Purple Rank sovereign.

That realization had solidified the moment he allowed Ga In-hu to walk away, despite her reckless remarks about his lifespan.

And deep down, Jeong Yeon-shin had a certainty—

He was more than capable of teaching.

‘Yes, at some point... it had already begun.’

Ma Gwang-ik had only ever studied the Light Mirror Tactic through written records.

Yet, even with mere text, Jeong Yeon-shin had pushed warriors beyond the threshold of mastery.

What would happen if he taught them directly?

For a fleeting moment, a chill ran down Jeong Yeon-shin’s spine.

The Peng Family was not the issue.

He was thinking about the Nine Great Sects.

"Let’s go."

Jeong Yeon-shin declared.