Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 434: Grandmaster (8)

A bizarre rumor had begun spreading in hushed whispers—of a man clad in a pink long robe, wielding a single sword, slaying Imoogi.

No one knew where it had originated, just another passing tale, and no one believed it.

Even as more and more people spoke of it, the reaction remained the same.

In contrast, the news that swept through Nokok Sword Pavilion was far more intense.

—Ipwang Fortress and Jeomchang Sect are determining the hierarchy of martial prowess!

Both factions had gathered all their elite martial artists. From the young prodigies hailed as the future of their sects to supreme masters draped in violet robes and even the Sword Immortals.

A grand manor was abuzz with excitement. Outside its towering walls, gambling tables had been set up.

Betting on the outcome of the great battle, a tradition that had persisted since the distant Jinhan era, stirred dreams of sudden fortune.

A powerful martial force led by a young Great Master stood against the thousand-year-old martial arts of an orthodox sect.

The strength of the Seomye Martial Vein was widely known. No longer did any scholar in Deungbong Prefecture dare to belittle the martial arts created by Jeong Yeon-shin.

Now, the uppermost echelon of the martial world was embroiled in endless debates, each voice arguing fervently over superiority. Many were drawn into the discourse.

But to Ma Gwang-ik, all of it was secondary.

"Every duel we've fought so far has been the same, but this time, we absolutely must not use Pabaek Chongram. The opponent is an orthodox sect."

A large stone round table.

A one-eyed young man spoke leisurely, addressing the warriors of Ma Gwang-ik seated on the floor or at the table.

As always, the demeanor of Azure Eye Sword Cheongmyeong was composed, yet the aura radiating from him was as clear and cold as the northern wind.

"Destruction techniques should only be shown to those who are meant to die. If we recklessly expose them in a place like this, we'll become the public enemy of the martial world. Especially our Lord. If you think you're going to lose, then just lose cleanly."

He spoke as if giving a warning to Ma Gwang-ik's warriors.

Pabaek Chongram was a secret manual classified as Upper-Upper among the nine levels of importance, accessible only to those with black-rank authority within the sect.

However, through Hyeon Won-chang, Jeong Yeon-shin had long since taught many of Ma Gwang-ik's warriors various destruction techniques against orthodox martial arts.

Since it had been given alongside the secret manual, even the General Bureau could do nothing about it.

From one side of the round table, Baek Mi-ryeo nodded.

"A duel only has meaning if it is won purely through martial arts. Otherwise, people will talk."

"Exactly. This is the stiff-necked orthodox martial world, after all."

Cheongmyeong tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, expressing agreement.

Between the two sat Jeong Yeon-shin.

It was a rare sight, with Azure Eye Sword and another elite warrior flanking him—a sight that would soon become even rarer, as Ma Gwang-ik had ascended to the violet rank.

"To bring down the grand sects, who idly dwell in the realm of the Immortals, using martial arts created by our Lord...?"

Tae Yeom-ryong muttered, rolling a green poppy stem between his fingers. He leaned casually against the wall, far from the round table.

He had never once been allowed to participate in the martial duels of Hwasan's underground battlefield. Perhaps because of that, he often made meaningless remarks, reminding Jeong Yeon-shin of his presence.

"That would be quite entertaining."

No one paid attention to Tae Yeom-ryong's ramblings. Jeong Yeon-shin, seated at the high seat, was slowly parting his lips to speak.

"I have chosen three."

The translucent Qi Veil emanating from Baek Mi-ryeo beside him dissipated. At the same time, the grand doors of the inner hall swung open.

Beyond them, martial artists sat in neat rows, cross-legged in the vast main hall.

They were the warriors of the Seomye Martial Vein.

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke the names of three individuals.

The reactions in the hall were mixed. Among the dozens present, emotions of joy and disappointment intertwined, while in Tae Yeom-ryong’s grip, a green leaf crumpled with a brittle sound.

"Does anyone object?"

A deep voice resonated.

It was a question from Naraksal Ma Jin, who was leaning against a pillar, observing the hall. His demeanor was that of a tyrant gazing down at talented scholars.

No one raised a hand or spoke.

"We will proceed with the agenda. Even those not selected should listen closely. No one knows what might change before the duel."

Ma Jin’s tone shifted as he turned toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

"Even if thoroughly dismantling their techniques is difficult, we must at least understand who our opponents are. Their martial arts, the individuals likely to participate in the duel... Every sect attending this competition is conducting the same analysis. Our methods have surely been scrutinized as well. It wouldn’t be surprising if the orthodox sects already have countermeasures against the Seomye Martial Vein."

"That would make sense."

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded.

Since they were in an informal setting, he spoke in a casual tone, which suited him well.

Ma Jin gazed at his nephew with a mix of deep concern and warmth before crossing his arms in front of his violet robes and continuing.

"There is only one clear selection. Aside from Sword Empress Geum Seon-hwi, no one else would dare draw their sword before the violet rank."

Sword Empress.

The sect leader of the orthodox faction.

A few warriors let out deep sighs. Even though they had likely anticipated this, the weight of the realization was heavy.

It was like staring up at the clouds—no matter how much one prepared, a moment of dizziness was inevitable.

"The swordsmanship of Jeomchang Sect is uniquely aggressive among the orthodox sects. The Four Dawn Sword Technique of their secret teachings has no retreat."

"Because every supreme technique is based on thrusting?"

There was a faint hint of interest in Jeong Yeon-shin’s question.

Once, when he had encountered the Young Sword Empress of Jeomchang, he had shown curiosity about thrusting techniques.

Moreover, the Sword Thunder Island Ridge Style he had devised still lacked a forward-thrusting technique.

"That’s correct. The General Bureau has assessed that, in terms of domineering sword force, Jeomchang ranks among the highest in the orthodox sects. Their practitioners condense a thousand years of internal energy into a singular point of focus—naturally, they cannot be weak."

"One-point focus... To what extent?"

At that moment, Hyeon Won-chang, who had been listening intently, quickly interjected.

"It refers to the sword techniques of Jeomchang’s sect leader. ‘One cannot evade, deflect, or block it. To win, one must reach first, but a sword that pierces the sun is as swift as the first light of dawn—there is simply no way to counter it.’ Those were the words of Dark Emperor, a supreme martial artist from the Poison Valley who once ruled Yunnan using poison techniques. He dueled Jeomchang’s sect leader for seven exchanges before dying."

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded.

"Quite the long dying speech."

"In truth, only the first line was his actual last words."

"The Three Impossibilities?"

"Yes, the rest was added later for poetic effect..."

Naraksal raised an eyebrow in disbelief at Hyeon Won-chang’s words, but Jeong Yeon-shin accepted his explanation as an insightful take on the Four Dawn Sword Technique.

If the Sword Empress's swordplay was truly the Three Impossibilities of the Sword, then the best counter would be a thrusting technique that was even faster and took the shortest possible route.

The problem was—did such a sword technique even exist in this world?

A White-Rank warrior of the Seomye Martial Vein raised his hand.

"If the Three Impossibilities of the Sword are real, doesn’t that make the Sword Empress invincible?"

Now a full-fledged Blue-Rank warrior, Hyeon Won-chang, who was starting to rival Tae Yeom-ryong in prestige, shook his index finger left and right.

"The leaders of the orthodox sects are all considered invincible within their respective domains. But when supreme martial artists clash, very few truly know what will happen. Of course, many people will witness it firsthand very soon."

All gazes then turned toward the young Great Master.

Some of those eyes held concern—not because they doubted his strength as a newly appointed Violet-Rank warrior, but because they were considering his youth.

This was not something someone who hadn't even reached twenty should have to bear.

Naraksal furrowed his brows.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"This is not something for you to worry about. The opponent is an orthodox sect. No matter what happens, it won’t be strange. You should focus on fulfilling your own roles instead."

"There is a way to drastically increase the chances of victory."

Jeong Yeon-shin’s voice cut through the room. Silence fell instantly. As he calmly surveyed those around him, he slowly parted his lips again.

“...Training.”

A single word.

Yet, it carried the weight of something profound. The breeze that had been gently drifting through the hall suddenly felt refreshingly cool.

Jeong Yeon-shin continued in an unhurried tone.

"I will enter seclusion. I expect you to refine ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) yourselves as well."

The word seclusion carried a rare weight. He spoke as if preaching the way of fire to the rock monkeys of Mount Huaguo.

No response came.

Jeong Yeon-shin accepted the heavy atmosphere as the reverence it deserved.

***

This time was different.

Until now, Jeong Yeon-shin had only created martial techniques after the fact.

He would face a situation, take inspiration from it, or be forced into a position where he needed an immediate solution. That was how his supreme techniques had been born.

But now, he wondered—

What if, instead of developing counters, he prepared an offensive technique in advance?

For the first time, he had peace and time.

Huff—

The underground chamber beneath his residence in Ipwang Fortress.

A faint dust cloud scattered with his breath.

The Nokok Sword Pavilion, built by immensely wealthy benefactors from the secular world of Shaolin, lacked nothing.

It was as if they had anticipated that one day, the entire martial world would gather at Mount Song's Shaolin.

At this very moment, outside the underground chamber where Jeong Yeon-shin stood, only the faintest of presences could be felt.

This was a space prepared for the absolute grandmasters of great sects.

Srrrng.

He unsheathed Thunderstorm, the divine sword.

Every nerve in his body stood on edge. He could sense each speck of dust drifting through the chamber like a cluster of stars.

Four Dawn Sword Technique... The Three Impossibilities of the Sword.

His journey through the martial world had always been a relentless pursuit.

A desperate race to catch up with those who had gone ahead.

All of the techniques he had ever created had emerged from that struggle.

But now—Jeong Yeon-shin was Violet-Rank.

Even now, he didn’t want to be forced into desperate improvisation.

He wanted to advance.

And then, I will test myself.

Does he have the right to claim the Heavenly Eye Fruit?

If he receives it from the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, can he truly withstand it and overcome his fate?

Whirrrr—!

The wheel of light within his heart began to turn. One of its two layers slowly revolved.

The faint outer ring that had formed since his journey to Biyuk belonged to the Tang Twins.

The Luminous Wheel Qi surged into the acupuncture points of his right arm. The grip of his sword let out a crack.

His amplified strength fused his arm and sword into one. A domineering unity of man and blade.

Jeong Yeon-shin extended his sword with a light movement.

Swoosh.

A slow thrust. Thunderstorm cut through the dust as it moved forward. The countless particles it brushed against clung to the blade and crept up toward his arm.

Each speck was smaller than dust itself, lighter than a passing breeze—yet Jeong Yeon-shin’s senses registered their weight, their movement, their existence.

He repeated the motion.

Spleen Meridian Acupoint and Forearm Qi Flow Acupoint.

He attuned himself to the contraction and expansion of the meridians in his elbow, slowly—very slowly.

To achieve extreme speed, he had to first master slowness.

His instincts told him that much.

Hwooong—

Occasionally, as he thrust, he twisted his waist to observe the acupoints and muscles surrounding his lumbar region.

Every movement was methodical and deliberate.

The Rotating Warrior Meridian allowed for rotational energy. The Right Arm Extension Point triggered a compounded burst of Qi at the moment of a strike. The Heavenly Kirin Pulse created a forceful rebound throughout the body.

The violet robe rustled softly as it moved.

There were no obstacles in his comprehension. Everything was falling into place.

"The dust is interfering. It’s slowing my blade."

In that instant, Jeong Yeon-shin stepped forward.

Phantom Step.

Whoosh—!

A shockwave erupted from his toes, splitting the air left and right.

It was like watching two translucent waves parting on either side of him.

But unlike usual, this was not meant to suppress an opponent’s momentum.

It was a movement technique that cleared the way—a principle of void combat.

In that instant, he thrust his sword forward and retracted it.

Much faster.

The force converging at the tip of his blade was entirely different.

The strain on his muscles, too, was different.

"I need to adjust my body's balance."

A Violet-Rank warrior couldn't afford to stumble.

He repeated the process.

Step. Twist the waist. Thrust.

A basic movement that even a monkey would yawn at.

But Jeong Yeon-shin felt no boredom.

There was too much to refine—the balance, the force distribution, the Qi flow.

Outwardly, it seemed like a single sword thrust.

But within his body, it was anything but simple. Every acupuncture point in his body was expanding to the brink of bursting.

His vision blurred, merging into his senses.

He slowly entered a state of selflessness.

***

The day of the duel had arrived.

Ipwang Fortress and Jeomchang Sect.

Countless masters had gathered.