Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 430: Grandmaster (4)

A warm breeze brushed past the dueling platform, sweeping toward the spectator stands.

The sunlight pouring down from the open sky was already overwhelming on its own, but it was nothing compared to the noise of those who lived their lives in the turbulent martial world.

“Who is that man? On what grounds does he enter this duel?”

“Didn’t he just say ‘Jeong Family Inner Arts’...? That’s the very martial art that the defeated White-Robed Warrior mentioned as a ‘condensed version’ earlier!”

Voices filled with shock and speculation echoed from the audience. The crumbled wall continued to collapse in pieces, spitting out coarse fragments of stone with dull thuds.

On one side, the Peng Family retainers, all clad in silk robes and carrying ancient sabers, stood in complete silence. Their expressions varied, but they all shared one thing in common—an unease born from witnessing something outside the norms of the orthodox martial world.

Most of the crowd had only begun whispering amongst themselves after the black-clad man deflected Peng Ga In-hu’s saber strike.

Some, however, had already recognized his identity, their faces paling.

Even the high-ranking masters of the Peng Family were the same.

Just moments ago, they had shown subtle satisfaction at Namgung Hwashin’s inaction.

Now, their expressions were forcibly composed, as if suppressing an internal shock. Their lips no longer carried the faintest trace of a smile.

Among them, the elderly grandmasters and younger warriors murmured in low voices.

“That’s Hellslayer Ma Jin... the former Lord of the Radiant Wings Division.”

“I heard he lost an arm and was forced to become the Head of the House of Ipwang Ma... but that movement just now was far too precise for someone whose meridians were supposedly crippled.”

“He said ‘Jeong Family Inner Arts.’”

“I recall hearing that the Lord of the Radiant Wings Division created that technique himself. Of course... given that this man is his uncle, it’s likely he received not a simplified version, but the full-fledged original.”

This was a battle to determine the hierarchy of the great sects.

There was no duel in the martial world with as much prestige riding on it as this one. And that was precisely why Ma Jin had chosen to reveal his martial arts here.

After effortlessly sheathing Peng Ga In-hu’s sabers back into their scabbards, he had uttered the name of his technique.

It was impossible for anyone not to take notice.

Jeong Family Inner Arts.

Very little was known about it.

Some warriors from Ipwang Fortress had claimed that it rivaled Shaolin’s Muscle-Tendon Change Classic, but few in the martial world had taken such rumors seriously.

After all, the Muscle-Tendon Change Classic was legendary. It was a transcendent technique that refined the very foundation of the greatest warriors in history.

Furthermore, creating a new internal technique from scratch was an entirely different matter compared to simply possessing raw talent as a martial prodigy.

“Hoooh...”

Among the spectators, several individuals with keen insight narrowed their eyes.

They were the very same figures the crowd had earlier referred to as the Six Kings Sect—warriors with leather gloves wrapped around their bare hands, ranging from youthful prodigies to aged yet refined masters.

“A prosthetic arm... with craftsmanship befitting the Iron Tribe. But even if he has attached an arm that moves through internal energy, fully restoring the balance of his severed meridians should be impossible.”

“He called it internal arts. If its abilities even match half of the Muscle-Tendon Change Classic, then it might indeed be capable of restoring his meridians.”

“Did you catch his movements?”

“Only vaguely.”

“My vision technique failed to fully capture them.”

This was the orthodox martial world—a place where sects openly exchanged knowledge and courtesies, making discussions on combat techniques an inevitability.

Thus, many of the onlookers were already dissecting Ma Jin’s martial origins.

Meanwhile, at the center of the dueling platform—

Peng Ga In-hu gripped both saber handles strapped to her back, narrowing her eyes.

A murky, colorless energy seeped from her palms, lightly disturbing the strands of her hair.

“Total Body Shockwave...?”

She muttered. Ever since her sabers had been forcefully re-sheathed, she had been trying to analyze his technique.

“I had heard you had some martial talent.”

The black-clad man, former Lord of the Radiant Wings Division, Hellslayer Ma Jin, spoke with calm indifference.

“But understanding it will be beyond you.”

“...Ha!”

Peng Ya let out a dry laugh, her lips twisting.

Hellslayer Ma Jin.

A man with a fearsome reputation.

To the common folk, he was hailed as a chivalrous warrior, but within the martial world, he was known as a rogue, a murderous fiend.

When he had fallen from power due to the Sichuan Bright Sabers incident, the rumors surrounding his disgrace had spread like wildfire.

Some had even mocked him—saying that his fate had finally caught up to his nickname.

Others had sighed in relief.

For among the seventeen black-robed warriors of the Divine Sword Corps, Ma Jin had been one of the most ruthless.

If he had truly regained his strength through the martial arts of Semye, then this revelation would spread like wildfire across the great sects.

Some would resent the Lotus Manifestation, blaming them for his resurgence.

Others would fear it.

A rare supreme martial technique had re-emerged in the world.

BOOM!

Peng Ya vanished.

A faint white haze marked where she had stood, forming a perfect circle of displaced dust.

A technique meant to disorient the eyes. To the untrained observer, it was nearly indistinguishable from an illusionary body technique.

Yet, Ma Jin did not move.

He remained completely still, his dark prosthetic arm hanging by his side.

“Hm.”

His stance was firm, his chest squared.

The black robes, embroidered with the character for "wilderness", flapped violently in the wind, but his presence remained unmoved.

His posture and expression betrayed not a shred of urgency—he was merely observing, measuring his opponent.

WHOOSH!

Peng Ya reappeared.

She emerged from his blind spot, her hair whipping wildly as she swung both sabers in a sweeping arc.

The very air trembled, as if struck by an earthquake.

Yet Ma Jin, without even turning his head, extended his dark metal hand.

CLAAANG—!

His black iron fingers, crafted from the rarest Black Iron, deflected both sabers with a single upward flick.

The saber strike had been sealed completely.

It was possible only because of one thing—

The inner energy flowing through his arm had been seamlessly connected, supported by the spirit of his sister, who lay buried in the Jeong Family’s ancestral tomb.

Ma Jin then extended his iron hand further—grabbing Peng Ya’s collar in one swift motion.

“You’ve got guts.”

His tone was dry.

It was a subtle rebuke—an observation that while her dual-saber style was extremely aggressive, she lacked caution in her execution.

At that moment, Peng Ya’s eyes flickered with colorless light.

SHIING!

In an instant, she reversed her grip on both sabers.

A movement bordering on divine.

The moment Ma Jin pulled her forward, she allowed herself to be drawn in—only to slash downward with both reversed sabers.

Yet Ma Jin, unfazed, simply swung his right hand and parried both blades effortlessly.

BOOOOM!

A tremendous shockwave erupted.

The ground of the dueling platform cracked apart, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.

Ma Jin chuckled.

“You didn’t lose your grip.”

His tone was amused—not mocking, but matter-of-fact.

But to an heir who now carried an entire martial lineage, such words were an insult.

Peng Ya, now a step back, spat a blood-tinged glob of saliva onto the ground, still clutching both sabers.

“Do you think that technique will work twice?”

She was a martial genius.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

She had long surpassed the limitations of her generation. At times, she was even invited to serve as an instructor for the Embroidered Guards, earning the admiration of the imperial palace’s elite warriors.

Aside from the royal family, there was no doubt that she was the greatest prodigy of Northern Zhili.

She had carefully analyzed the previous exchange—going over every detail of her opponent’s execution.

This time, she gripped her sabers with a modified grasp, ensuring that she would not fall victim to the same maneuver again.

Her fingers twitched ever so slightly, distributing her internal energy with meticulous precision.

The pressure points in her palms, Shaofu and Laogong, swelled with concentrated energy.

She fixed her gaze on her opponent.

‘That man...’

The obsidian prosthetic that Naraksal wielded was unmistakably a crafted artifact.

Just as a grandmaster of the Three Harmonies Refinement could manipulate their internal energy at will, this prosthetic mimicked human movement, down to the joints of the fingers, carrying an undeniable flow of martial power.

Only Ipwang Fortress, with its boundless wealth and resources, could have produced such a marvel—a weapon forged through the engineering secrets of the Iron Clan.

But no machine could completely replace human bones and sinew. There had to be a limit.

A sharp glint flashed in Peng Ya’s eyes.

‘That thing must consume an absurd amount of energy. That’s why he barely moves. The longer this fight drags on, the more the odds tilt in my favor.’

She only had to endure.

She was certain.

The Jeong Family's Internal Arts were undoubtedly a rare and profound technique. That much was undeniable. It was potent enough to reunite the spirit, energy, and mind of a man who had lost an entire arm.

But could it truly match the stability and explosive force of a martial lineage honed over centuries?

‘This clan duel... we could force it into a draw.’

A faint smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

As if amused by the sight, Ma Jin spoke in an offhand manner.

“Why are you so fixated on such a meaningless victory?”

“Because it isn’t meaningless.”

Peng Ya spread her energy from her dantian, letting it circulate through her meridians.

From this point on, it would be a battle of relentless attacks.

She had to maintain control of the momentum, without getting swept into his rhythm.

As long as she did that, a path to victory would inevitably emerge.

She licked her lips.

“This duel is about the very fate of my family.”

“Our last family head acted on his own, starting something that should never have begun... and still, he failed.”

“If we lose here... we might as well shut our gates forever.”

“Something that never should have begun?”

Ma Jin’s tone turned peculiar.

Both of them knew exactly what they were talking about.

The Heavenly Spider’s Web Incident—the confrontation with the Lord of the Celestial Sword Division.

Peng Ya slowly nodded.

“I don’t expect you to believe me, but my people were against it.”

“I left for the Imperial City just to avoid receiving any orders.”

“I thought the family head had lost his mind.”

“Freedom in the martial world, he said... What a joke.”

Ma Jin snorted.

“You’re gravely mistaken. My belief is irrelevant.”

For the briefest moment, his gaze flickered toward the grandstand.

There, beneath the red-tinted shade of the canopy, sat Jeong Yeon-shin.

His brow rested against his fingers, as if he were some old man—a gesture that made it clear he was weary of his uncle’s overbearing presence.

―She’s not lying.

Jeong Yeon-shin was the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Purple-Robed Lord now.

His upper dantian’s abilities were undoubtedly formidable enough for him to discern truth from lies.

‘That child has already become such a commanding presence. Soon, I won’t be able to guide him anymore.’

Ma Jin shook his head inwardly.

Even so, he couldn’t abandon his role as a proxy for his late sister, Ma Yeon-sang.

Even with his unruly nephew constantly defying expectations, he had to set a proper example.

“I’ll finish this with my next move.”

His words made Peng Ya’s brow twitch.

“What?”

“Fortunately, you and my clan seem to share a similar understanding.”

“The Thirteen Heavens could regroup and rise at any moment.”

“There’s no need to add another corpse to this field today.”

The man who had slaughtered the Peng Family Head had just spoken.

Peng Ya fell silent.

Her ultimate strike was already prepared.

There was no reason to entertain his nonsense.

‘First, a single blow.’

The Noble Martial Clans—

Or rather, the so-called Martial Aristocratic Families—

Had always fought with the intent to crush their opponents utterly.

For generations, they had prioritized their family’s interests above all else, ensuring their continued dominance over the martial world by overwhelming the nearby sects.

And today was no different.

A deep resonance surged from Peng Ya’s sabers.

The Five Tiger Sabers—Devouring Dragon, Vast Tiger.

Just as the name implied, it was a technique that embodied the devouring ferocity of a tiger that had swallowed a dragon whole.

Her arm trembled, wrapped in afterimages, vibrating as it accumulated overwhelming force.

She could unleash this five times—that was why it was called the Five Tiger Sabers.

This was enough to test the limits of the Jeong Family’s Internal Arts, the martial system that had revitalized the man called Naraksal Ma Jin.

Even the crowd watching from the grandstands must have been thinking the same.

The weaklings hadn’t even been allowed past the Emerald Jade Sword Manor’s gates.

This was a duel—a place where two great martial traditions tested their supremacy.

Peng Ya’s foot struck the ground.

A light, almost effortless step—yet a true step technique.

The dueling stage rippled like the surface of a great lake.

The soundwave came an instant later.

BOOM! FWOOSH!

And in the very next moment, she was already rushing forward, her twin sabers crossed as they lashed outward toward Ma Jin’s chest.

The sheer force of her acceleration thickened the air, making her blades’ passage sound like a piercing roar.

And before her, Ma Jin took a wide step forward and threw a punch.

Aimed directly at the point where the twin sabers crossed.

But this time, it wasn’t the prosthetic hand.

It was the opposite arm, his bare hand, covered in simple fabric, yet delivering a devastating fist technique.

CRACK—!!

Peng Ya’s eyes widened.

She had anticipated a five-step exchange—but that was shattered in an instant.

What she saw in her wavering vision—

A fist crashing through the crossed blades, shattering them into fragments.

‘What...?’

But that wasn’t all.

Through the sunlight, glinting off the scattering shards of metal, she finally registered something.

Something truly terrifying.

A sword hilt protruding from Ma Jin’s shoulder.

She was too late to fully process it.

His true weapon had been right there all along.

That was it.

The truth.

The previous Warlord of the Radiant Wings, the former Lord of Ma Gwang’s Radiant Division, had never used some refined dueling technique.

He had only ever wielded a battlefield saber.

That realization sank into her like an abyssal weight.

Even if she tried to rationalize it, this humiliation would remain seared into her very bones.

‘Like some damned turtle...’

BOOOOOM!!

Her body was sent flying.

Ma Jin closed in instantly.

And the moment his knife-hand strike smashed into her abdomen, a concussive shockwave erupted.

BOOM!

She was driven into the dueling platform—slamming into the earth with a thunderous crash.

A heavy silence fell over the arena.

In the blinding midday sun, there was no mistaking it.

Who stood, and who lay defeated.

And before the silence could fully settle, a single voice rang out from the grandstand.

“The Peng Family has lost.”

It was the voice of Ipwang Fortress’s newly appointed Purple-Robed Lord.

The Grand Elder of Wudang, who had been officiating the duel, hesitated for a moment.

Meanwhile, Yeonhwa Nata Seomye, who had been glancing down at his uncle with the faintest twitch of his lips, quickly returned to his usual impassive expression.

TL Note: Naraksal - Ma Jin's epithet, possibly tied to his past, which may have been brutal or bloody.