Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 438: Conclusion (3)

The Green Jade Sword Hall was filled with commotion. It was hardly a suitable place for an absolute master with heightened senses to recover in peace.

After his victory over the Sword Queen, Chui So-ok, Jeong Yeon-shin had lost consciousness and was transported to Shin Yae-hyeon.

There was no risk of energy deviation during the journey. Cheongmyeong and the elite warriors under Ma Gwang-ik had utilized their supreme Soaring Movement Techniques to ensure his safe passage.

It was reminiscent of when Jeong Yeon-shin had been carried in a palanquin like a triumphant general after subjugating the heretical forces of Sima from Shaanxi—only this time, the palanquin had been replaced with a stretcher.

An absolute master, unseen by the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, watched over him.

This enigmatic figure was enveloped in a bizarre distortion of space, making even his features and attire indistinguishable. His identity was vouched for by Ma Gwang-iljo.

He had been present when Jeong Yeon-shin slaughtered the Lord of the Mo Yong Clan.

His status was highly classified—an Assassin’s Sword of Bonseong.

The mysterious figure even produced the command medallion of the Lord of Ipwang Fortress, bearing the sigil of the Thousand-Year Tree. There was no room left for doubt.

Thus—

Jeong Yeon-shin did not wake.

Jeongga Donggong was a technique that moved on its own, even while its practitioner slept.

Since his body needed to focus solely on restoring his meridians and suppressing the risk of energy deviation, even the energy that would have been expended in consciousness was redirected to the technique’s operation.

Moreover, the mysterious master watching over him was an orthodox heir to Jeongga Donggong, capable of assisting in his energy circulation.

—His meridians are in such a weakened state. I trust no fool will be reckless enough to feed him medicinal elixirs.

—If any imbecile dares reveal their ignorance, I will crush their skull on the spot.

Many had already deduced the identity of the mysterious figure.

They envisioned an elderly man draped in a crimson robe standing within the distorted space.

The warriors of Ipwang Fortress, those below the Violet Rank, focused on guarding them. Even after reaching their destination, their vigilance remained.

The old estate of the Jeong Family.

It had once belonged to a wealthy trading guild.

Long ago, while Jeong Hye, Jeong Yeon-shin’s niece, had been abducted by Yeo Ryeong’s Sima from Shaanxi, his second eldest brother, Jeong Jung-san, had sold the land in a desperate attempt to hire mercenaries to protect her.

But now, that was no longer the case.

A highly respected merchant lord had voluntarily transferred the estate and its lands back to Jeong Yeon-shin.

Even the well-maintained gardens and the festival swings in the courtyard, traditionally burned during the Dano Festival, had been restored.

It was said that the merchant had painstakingly gathered accounts from the villagers of Shin Yae-hyeon to reconstruct the estate exactly as it had been before it fell into ruin.

Thus, the scenery now was nearly identical to when Jeongga Donggong was first conceptualized.

Until Jeong Yeon-shin established his own household, a few warriors from Ipwang Fortress’s Henan Branch would reside there.

It was the childhood home of the Young Grandmaster.

Throughout the estate, warriors of Ipwang Fortress, including Ma Gwang-ik, patrolled diligently.

Some, like Hyeon Won-chang, even sprinkled salt over Jeong Ban-ak’s former quarters, ensuring no remnants of past bloodshed lingered.

The masters of the Bright Lineage marveled at the land, remarking on its unusually dense earthly energy—a stark contrast to a manor that had once burned at the hands of the Sword Master of Fallen Blades.

Meanwhile—

“Wudang defeated Six Kings Sect. They say Zhang Bong’s Tenfold Staff Technique was absolutely overwhelming. It’s a shame I didn’t get to see it.”

“Apparently, the Sword Master of the Daoist sects didn’t even draw his sword before making the Gate Lord of the Six Kings lose consciousness. But he’ll have to face our Squad Leader if he wants to see the Pine-Woven Ancient Sword shine.”

A small figure swung back and forth on a wooden swing, chattering away.

It was Shin So-bin of Ma Gwang-ik’s unit.

Her short, wavy hair swayed as she moved, and her left arm, once shattered in a duel with the Small Sword Queen, had miraculously healed.

The way she gripped the ropes of the swing tightly with both hands was proof of her full recovery.

It was all thanks to her training in the simplified version of Jeongga Donggong.

It was said that Jeong Yeon-shin had personally ordered the transmission of the technique to the Devil’s Army.

The moment she had collapsed from severe injuries after her duel, he had issued the decree.

—Of course, only those deemed worthy will receive it. This is not a martial art granted lightly in exchange for mere wealth.

—Besides, you're not even a Jeong.

—And you're a Ma.

She had learned quickly.

Her talent was as formidable as Ma Se-in’s, and her understanding of Jeong Yeon-shin’s philosophy had deepened.

She had even absorbed his childhood journal without difficulty.

But in the humid summer air, she found that her eyes dampened too easily.

She had also sprinkled salt over the Jeong Family’s ancestral quarters.

A lot of salt.

“Regardless of Wudang’s victory, this manor is definitely a blessed land. It’s got a mountain at its back, a village at its front, and a stream cutting through—it’s perfect.”

“A fine place for convalescence.”

The veterans of Ipwang Fortress idly exchanged words as they stood near the swings.

They spoke of recovery, but in truth, their formation was more akin to a strict defensive perimeter.

Even their seemingly casual walks were carefully arranged to guard against potential intruders.

After all, anyone holding the Violet Rank, even if they weren’t the Lord of the Divine Sword Sect, represented Ipwang Fortress itself.

Then—

“Huh?”

Shin So-bin remained seated on the swing but narrowed her eyes.

She tightened her grip on the ropes, circulating her internal energy evenly through her arms.

“They’re back again.”

Beyond the front gate, over a dozen figures approached.

Every single one of them wore deep blue martial robes and carried ancient, elegant swords.

Their posture and bearing exuded the discipline and dignity unique to a great martial family.

Shin Yae-hyeon was a Henan village under Shaolin’s sphere of influence.

Unless someone had deliberate business here, no heretical martial artists could afford to move about in such grandiose attire.

It was Namgung Clan.

One of the most powerful righteous noble families of the Central Plains, ruling over the vast Southern Zhili region.

Shin So-bin’s expression soured.

This wasn’t the first or second time they had come.

Now, the Elder Lord of Namgung, the sole remaining inheritor of the Emperor’s Sword Form, personally led the Changgun Sword Celestial Division to bow deeply before the temporary Lord of Suncheon Ik-ju.

She, along with the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, unwillingly overheard the endless persuasion.

—Return to the family and inherit the Emperor’s Sword Form. You need not stain your hands with blood.

—Your lineage will ensure that you rule over Southern Zhili as its future monarch.

—The direct line of the Namgung has perished, and Southern Zhili nearly collapsed. We, the Namgung household, have barely preserved your homeland’s righteous martial order.

—Your elder brother, the Azure Qilin of the martial world, fought to protect this land. If you continue to refuse, it will become a living hell.

—Draw the Heaven’s Will Sword. Return home.

Namgung Hwa-shin did not follow them. However, being naturally courteous, he could not outright dismiss his blood relatives either.

Instead, he drove the Heaven’s Will Sword into the ground at the center of the Jeong Family manor’s courtyard—sheath and all—and told them to take it.

That was White Qilin’s response, one as honorable as that of the Grand Champion of Ipwang Fortress.

“Hasn’t that sword been stuck there for three days now? How is it possible that not a speck of dirt has settled on it?”

“The command division says White Qilin is known as the immaculate shadow. He obsessively cleans everything he touches.”

“They say there’s not a single speck of dust in his room. It’s extreme.”

Dozens of warriors from Ipwang Fortress let out quiet sighs of relief at Namgung Hwa-shin’s decision.

The significance of the Black Rank in Ipwang Fortress needed no verbal explanation.

If a Black Rank warrior didn’t die on duty but instead left the fortress by choice, the repercussions would be unimaginable.

It would affect not only the fortress’s honor and reputation but also the morale of its warriors.

Meanwhile, Tae Yeom-ryong sat lazily on the courtyard floor, gazing up at Namgung Hwa-shin.

The temporary Lord of Suncheon Ik-ju paid no mind to the approach of his kin, merely drawing the Ipwang Sword from its sheath, eyes half-lowered in focused meditation.

“What does that sword art feel like...?”

Tae Yeom-ryong asked, chewing on Yang Guifei flowers.

It wasn’t an interruption—geniuses like him and Namgung Hwa-shin could enter states of complete self-immersion at will. Their upper dantian was simply different from ordinary martial artists.

“...Fast. Incredibly fast. To withstand the force of this sword technique’s waves, I feel as though I must never cease training my body, even as I grow older.”

“What a troublesome martial art.”

Namgung Hwa-shin’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

Tae Yeom-ryong quickly averted his gaze, making it clear that his casual remark was nothing more than a passing thought, not an intentional slight.

It was his way of avoiding a lecture from the younger brother of his superior officer. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject.

“For all these so-called masters, martial arts and life are one and the same. If you want to enjoy life, you need to relax in your martial arts as well. But, funny thing—no one in Ma Gwang-ik’s unit seems to know what our Squad Leader actually likes...”

At that moment—

The warriors of Ipwang Fortress, who had been starting to let their guard down, suddenly turned their attention toward a distant commotion.

“The Volcanic Catalyst has ended! Form up immediately! Over thirty righteous sects have risen in rebellion! This is an uprising!”

A hoarse, aged voice bellowed from the front ranks of the Namgung swordsmen, its deep internal energy resonating like a war drum.

It was the voice of the Elder Lord of Namgung.

Disasters that defined an era of chaos often arrived like this—abruptly and without warning.

WHOOOOSH!

From the back mountain of the estate, a piercing whistle arrow sliced through the air.

It was the signal of Sa Wol-gungwi, Wi Ye-ryeong.

It meant the enemy was already at their doorstep.

If she had gone so far as to fire a signal, it was clear that even she and the elite warriors under Ma Gwang-ik could not intercept them in time.

Whether it was due to their numbers or their formidable strength, it didn’t matter.

The warriors of Ipwang Fortress immediately drew their weapons.

The clamor of swords being unsheathed rang out in unison, and everyone rose to their feet.

“What the hell? This isn’t Dengfeng County—this is Shin Yae-hyeon.”

“Which is exactly why they’re here! What’s the point of attacking where the Nine Sect Leaders are staying? They need to scatter them first!”

“Who the hell are these people?”

“They must be the ones who couldn’t stand seeing one side claim full control over the Volcanic Catalyst’s spoils. Maybe Yeo Ryeong is behind this.”

Shin So-bin launched herself from the swing, landing lightly on the ground.

She glanced briefly at Namgung Hwa-shin.

“Give the order. How are we moving?”

At that moment—

OOOOOOOHHH!

From the distant peak of the back mountain, something shot into the sky.

Anyone with deep insight and broad knowledge would have recognized it immediately.

It was a Thunderbolt Bomb—a weapon of mass destruction, hurled with terrifying internal energy.

A monstrous act.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Someone had obtained such weapons without fear of Imperial retribution.

A true traitor to the empire.

“......!”

The target was unmistakable—

The residence where {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Jeong Yeon-shin’s mother had once lived.

It was now the place where Jeong Yeon-shin lay unconscious, recovering.

The Thunderbolt Bomb plummeted toward the manor at a terrifying speed, as if it had been launched from a cannon.

Before Cheongmyeong and Baek Mi-ryeo could even throw their swords, before the warriors of Ma Gwang-ik’s unit could react, something impossible happened.

The black sphere vanished into thin air—as if erased by an irresistible force.

But that did not stop the next barrage.

FWOOOOOSH! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The roof exploded, and dust clouds erupted.

The warriors’ shouts were drowned out by the deafening blasts.

The ground trembled violently, and the sky turned black with smoke.

“Those bastards... It’s Six Kings Sect!”

“Hwa-shin! We need to move! We can’t counterattack from here!”

The Elder Lord of Namgung had already crossed the gates of the Jeong Family Manor, shouting frantically.

Namgung Hwa-shin had just lost his grip on the Ipwang Sword after striking away a falling Thunderbolt Bomb alongside two White-clad Namgung warriors.

He had not yet fully mastered the sword form.

THUNK!

The blade lodged into the ground, landing next to the Heaven’s Will Sword—the very one he had previously cast aside.

Ipwang Sword and Heaven’s Will Sword.

For a fleeting moment, the Elder Lord of Namgung’s eyes trembled.

Amidst the chaos, he sensed it instinctively—this moment would determine the fate of Namgung Clan.

At that moment, Namgung Hwa-shin recalled something Jeong Yeon-shin had once told him when handing him the Heaven’s Will Sword.

—Heo.

Permission granted.

A command imbued with absolute freedom.

A phrase once spoken by Azure Qilin, Namgung Se-jin, as he neared his own death.

CRACK.

Namgung Hwa-shin gripped the dirt-covered Ipwang Sword.

Suddenly—a faint sword wind radiated outward in all directions.

Like a storm breaking loose.

And then—

Over a dozen Thunderbolt Bombs, which had been raining down like hail, froze in midair, as if caught in an invisible force.

Simgeuk Qilin.

“How... is this possible...?!”

The Elder Lord of Namgung's eyes widened in shock.

Before the attack even began, the enemy forces positioned on the back mountain behind Jeong's manor had anticipated the strength of Ipwang Fortress and prepared accordingly.

Each of them now dragged out cannons, previously hidden from view, while holding massive iron spheres in their free hands.

They were preparing for an all-out bombardment.

They knew the warriors of Ipwang Fortress would not abandon their newly appointed Violet Rank.

From the Jeong Family courtyard, four figures stepped forward: Namgung Hwa-shin, Tae Yeom-ryong, Cheongmyeong, and Baek Mi-ryeo.

They exuded pressure and energy, conjuring an invisible wall of sword force, heat, cutting winds, and demonic aura.

Hyeon Won-chang positioned himself at the entrance to Jeong Yeon-shin’s quarters, his gaze twisted with murderous intent.

Simultaneously, the Bright Lineage masters under Ma Gwang-ik began ascending the back mountain with ghostly movements, aiming to intercept the cannon fire before it was unleashed. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Not one of them showed a hint of hesitation or distress—only unwavering willpower.

None of the warriors of Ipwang Fortress were unfamiliar with sudden ambushes. That was why no one retreated.

This was the martial world in an era of chaos.

[Fire.]

The Second Gate Lord of the Six Kings Sect, a middle-aged man with a spear strapped across his back, muttered the command.

WOOOOOM—!

Before the artillery fire could commence, a translucent lotus bloomed in the middle of the ruined Jeong Family courtyard.

It was massive, large enough to expel a lone monk draped in flowing orange sleeves from its center.

The Nine Petals of the Lotus.

It happened in an instant—a sudden, overwhelming manifestation of a supreme technique.

The High Abbot Beomheo had appeared without warning.

OOOOOOOOH—!

From both shoulders of the Shaolin Abbot, golden light poured forth, taking the shape of giant arms.

The pinnacle of martial transcendence—an overwhelming spectacle had descended upon Jeong Manor.

For the briefest of moments, his waist twisted slightly, showing a hint of strain—

But then, in the very next breath, his golden fist smashed through the sky, producing a shockwave as deep as a temple bell’s toll.

Simultaneously, the air rippled outward.

The Forbidden Technique—Hundred-Step Divine Fist.

The reverberation struck the back mountain, where the cannons had been stationed in a tight formation.

The entire mountaintop ridge suddenly overturned—

As if an invisible Buddha’s palm had cleaved through the mountain itself.

A vast cloud of dust surged along the length of the ridge, a gaping wound torn into the very land.

It took a few breaths before the thunderous explosion finally roared down the slopes.

KUUUUUURRRRGGGHH—!

Complete annihilation.

Every enemy who had wielded firearms had been erased in a single strike.

With such absolute resolve, the palm of eradication had left nothing behind—not bodies, not even shattered remnants of the cannons.

Silence fell, so eerily absolute it seemed unreal.

For a time, no one moved.

“......”

As the onlookers struggled for words,

Another figure had already stepped into the courtyard.

He moved through the distorted space, his lips curling in a subtle smirk.

Ma Yeon-jeok passed by High Abbot Beomheo, glancing at him briefly.

“The Emperor was right. I see now that Henan’s gate can be entrusted to you.”

“Is that not the duty of the Nine Sects?”

“There are few left who remain true to their duty.”

“I cannot agree.”

“Qingcheng should just seal its gates. I had at least some expectations for Mount Hua. That girl is better than the previous generation.”

“This is not a matter of one individual’s ability. How can a single person be blamed for an era descending into chaos?”

“The bald monk has quite the silver tongue.”

“How is Lord Jeong’s condition?”

“The energy circulation has just been completed. Now, as an official Violet Rank of Bonseong, he will press down on all of you.”

“...The Head of Mount Song has awakened. Do you wish to meet him?”

“What would be the point? His sword was shattered by my grandson. I have no intention of standing before an old man whose pride has already been ground to dust. I doubt even you lot, blind to a grandfather’s joy, could hide your pity.”

“......”

“Are we done here?”

“...Though we had no choice but to intervene, your daughter’s tomb remains undisturbed.”

“I know.”

That was all.

In the next instant, both men vanished into thin air, like wisps of smoke.

And they did not return.

For those who had transcended mortal limits, lingering too long only brought greater suffering upon the world.

Thus, they disappeared without a trace.

WHOOOSH—

A wooden capsule tied with a sealed letter suddenly dropped before Hyeon Won-chang.

He snatched it out of the air swiftly.

Upon examining it, he saw thick, bold brushstrokes on the front:

“For Yeon-shin’s eyes.”

“Huh...”

Hyeon Won-chang forced himself to speak casually.

“This handwriting... isn’t clerical script, nor formal calligraphy. It’s just... a mess.”

“Stop talking nonsense and move. Getting out of here comes first.”

With a cold voice, Baek Mi-ryeo passed through Ipwang Fortress’s defensive perimeter.

They did what needed to be done.

The mid-rank warriors of Ipwang Fortress maintained their composure even in the face of disaster.

Without hesitation, they stepped into the manor, carefully lifting Jeong Yeon-shin, and laid him inside a covered palanquin.

A supreme martial master, so attuned to killing intent, did not stir in the slightest at the touch of his own allies.

The elite warriors of Ma Gwang-ik, carrying the palanquin, stepped across the Jeong Manor’s threshold, following behind Baek Mi-ryeo.

As they departed, Cheongmyeong spoke offhandedly.

“A message arrived from the Grand Overseer. Bonseong is preparing a formal ascension ceremony.”

“Formal ascension?”

“We’ll be restructuring the entire command structure, centering around the new Violet Rank. Some idiots will soon realize they’re no longer fit to serve.”

“A Violet Rank Ascension Ceremony? Surely they’ll embroider the character for ‘Emperor’ onto his robe?”

There was an undeniable note of expectation in the voice.

Hyeon Won-chang, completely ignoring Cheongmyeong’s last words, sighed and trudged after the group.

As they walked into the distance, the setting sun cast long shadows behind them.

With barely two years left to live,

Jeong Yeon-shin’s fate intertwined once more with Ipwang Fortress.

Their silhouettes stretched endlessly beneath the fading glow of late summer.