Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 452: Den of Demons (5)

A dull resonance spread in an instant.

It was a sound as if iron was being sliced apart. The black mist, severed in a single stroke, scattered to the sides with a chilling, whispering friction—saaaah.

Beyond it.

Thud.

The intruder landed on what remained of the relatively intact floor.

And then, he staggered slightly. Like someone unable to steady themselves, drunk on liquor.

Had it not been for the long, sunlit waves of his black hair and the extraordinary fabric of his violet robe, he might have been mistaken for Ju Gwang-shin, the Drunken Beggar King, or Dae-ya-shin, the Grand Beggar Immortal—legends of the Beggars' Sect.

At least, that’s what So Mucheon, the Lord of Great Heaven Gate, thought.

Fortunately, Yeomcheon Pavilion had both an overwhelmingly high ceiling and an adequately spacious rooftop.

It was enough to firmly support the feet of the uninvited young man.

Is he human...?

So Mucheon had heard of martial arts that stimulated the upper danjeon through alcohol. In fact, he knew of sects that practiced it as an advanced secret technique.

Among them were the Beggars' Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects, as well as the Thirteen Heavens’ Dreaming Moon Clan, rulers of the far southern lands.

There were even rumors that some of the Hao Clan’s martial veins possessed similar techniques.

Yet, no matter how one looked at him, this intruder had no trace of alcohol on his face.

His smooth, almost unnatural skin did not belong to someone accustomed to drunken techniques. He had heard that masters of Drunken Fist and other liquor-based arts usually had rough, weathered features.

Therefore, the overwhelming presence just now could only be explained as the raw state of being intoxicated.

It was truly unbelievable. Even now, from afar, the way he muttered to himself seemed anything but ordinary.

He appeared profoundly drunk.

A natural disaster that cannot steady itself.

He was someone to be avoided.

“You...?”

The voice came from behind—Yulha Nangnang, the Sacred Flame Swordmaster.

Did she know the intruder? If so, that was a relief.

Whatever happens next...

So Mucheon let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The Ten Kings of the Martial World were already exuding terrifying killing intent.

If even Chu Pae-gwang, the master of large-scale sorcery, had joined them, So Mucheon would have had little hope of surviving the aftermath of that battle.

Unconsciously, he muttered to himself.

“Is it over...?”

The intruder's gaze flicked toward him.

So Mucheon flinched involuntarily and immediately shut his mouth.

A supreme master in a drunken stupor... I fear he might appear in my dreams.

The young man’s eyes held a bright, piercing glow, like the light refracting off a blade.

Despite his youth, it was clear he had endured countless battles. His very presence exuded ye-gi—the keen, razor-sharp aura of a warrior.

Wait... those features, that attire...

So Mucheon’s eyes gradually widened.

[Thanks to you, I died once.]

A smooth voice.

It echoed from the remnants of the mist that had been cut apart.

A feeling that So Mucheon had never sensed before, even from Chu Pae-gwang of Taemosan Fortress.

Shock, astonishment, relief.

It was an extraordinary sight. Wasn’t Chu Pae-gwang the very one who had acted like an emperor from behind the scenes in Hangzhou, empowered with full authority by the Dark Heaven Emperor Cho Ryeol?

He rarely even regarded others as human unless they were of significantly high status.

So Mucheon had never imagined that the Dark Black Divine Hand himself would reveal such raw emotions.

Even when tales of the Five Calamities had surfaced, he had only scoffed.

So his true self wasn’t actually within the black mist. That’s why I despise sorcerers...

Those who had seized power in their respective regions always carried immense pride in the martial paths they had forged.

If they were strong enough to flatten an entire tavern with a single swing of their hand, that pride was even greater.

No matter how great the reputation of an unfamiliar individual, once faced with them in person, there was always an innate confidence that a fight would take place—one way or another.

Such was the nature of a transcendent warrior who could roam freely across an entire province.

The Ten Kings of the Martial World. The Lord of Taemosan Fortress.

Four individuals who could vie for the title of the strongest in their respective nations were gathered in one place.

And at the same time, Yulha Nangnang, who had the authority to look down on them all, stood there.

Then, daring speculation suggested that the drunken stranger, newly arrived after breaking through the floor, was none other than the newly appointed Purple Rank of Ipwang Fortress.

What was about to unfold?

So Mucheon slowly gathered his energy.

And then, as if he did not exist atop the Yeomcheon Pavilion, he silenced himself.

It was, in a way, a form of concealment art—he was exceptionally skilled at lowering himself to the status of a mere pebble.

***

The atmosphere, which had felt as if it could explode at any moment, grew strange.

The three swordsmen from the Cheonggeuk Sect remained still, surrounding Yulha Nangnang. They directed all their focus toward her, occasionally glancing at Jeong Yeon-shin with peripheral vision.

“The bastard who drew his face should die. If they’d done the job properly, they could’ve put that up and had a drink instead of looking like this.”

“That’s the monster from the rumors...”

The Drunken Tiger and the Silver Sword were muttering their astonishment in low tones.

The massive Great Sword Demon, who wore a large sword on his back, slightly twisted his lips. Just that movement made the air shimmer as if it were translucent.

“Is the Heavenly Power of the Dragons well? The one from your side, the Lord of the Celestial Forest.”

“......”

Until then, Jeong Yeon-shin had been standing still as if completely drunk, but without a word, he suddenly turned his head toward Yulha Nangnang.

A languid demeanor could be seen in his eyes.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He then raised his hands, which trembled for a brief moment as he clasped them together. Even in his drunken state, he was a gentleman who maintained his etiquette.

“I greet the sect leader.”

“...It’s been a long time, and yet, not so long.”

“Have you been well, without any issues?”

“If you practice our sect’s Zaha Shin Gong, you’ll always be in good health and victory, without any illness. If you master it, you don’t even age. Just like a plum tree, enduring for a long time.”

“Indeed, Sect Leader, your complexion looks well.”

“Your complexion is a bit strange, though.”

“Is it me you’re referring to?”

“Your complexion is too vivid for someone who’s been drinking, and your eyes aren’t fully focused. I wonder what’s happened to you.”

“Something... happened.”

Jeong Yeon-shin mumbled. Yulha Nangnang, who had been observing him silently, slowly parted her lips again.

“I’ve said before, that personal matters aren’t something to ask about. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like a trivial issue. The King of Gungmyeong and Ipwang Fortress wouldn’t have allowed you to leave so easily.”

“The well water does °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° not mix with the river water.”

“Hmm?”

“Official matters should not infringe upon martial matters.”

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin mumbled as if he was saying it at random. His eyes, unfocused as they were, indicated his disinterest in the conversation.

At that moment, when Yulha Nangnang had lost her words:

“I didn’t expect the Purple Rank to set out. I thought, as the newest to reach the highest rank, you’d have to stay secluded in Yangyang.”

A young man with a literary air suddenly appeared under the eaves of the building, and with a heavy step, he moved onto the flat roof.

“Anyway, it’s fine. Please, sit here.”

He spread his arms wide, and the long sleeves of his blue silk robe cascaded down.

A noble demeanor. His appearance, which at first glance might seem delicate, belied his courage and dignity.

“......”

Despite Jeong Yeon-shin not even glancing at him, the young man walked over and sat in a chair, placing himself at the safest edge of the tables that had been scattered and knocked over.

Lord of Taemosan Fortress, Chu Pae-gwang.

Famous for using all sorts of mysterious sorcery casually.

If not for the absence of the Drunken Hero, Yulha Nangnang, from the Ming Sect, there were rumors that in the realm of sorcery and martial arts, Chu Pae-gwang would one day be considered the most powerful.

Of course, if I’d said that in front of the author, I’d be reduced to mush in the Black Mist...

Now, no one was paying attention to Lord So Mucheon.

The strange atmosphere continued to linger in the room, even as he slowly began to back away toward the roof.

The Cheonggeuk Sect’s swordmasters continued to track both Yulha Nangnang and Jeong Yeon-shin in their line of sight, shifting their positions as they adjusted the sword techniques to amplify their energy.

Among them, the Great Sword Demon had actually clashed head-on with a master from the Shin Geom Dan in the past.

When the Celestial Forest’s Great Master overcame the immense energy and barely achieved harmony with the divine energy, they had encountered each other during a mission.

The two had nearly exchanged blows. It was a very famous battle.

“There’s a famous saying in the martial world,”

Chu Pae-gwang, leaning his elbow on the table, slowly interlocked his fingers.

“If you were to face three of the Black Ranks from the Shin Geom Dan, it’s not just the three of them you’d meet. You’d be facing the entire Ipwang Fortress itself... It’s something like that.”

His words were imbued with an aura of mystery. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

His presence felt like it could vanish at any moment. A disciple of the great sect known for mastering sorcery.

Taemosan Fortress.

All its disciples were called monsters or immortals. Their bizarre sorcery techniques and actual combat power were exceptional.

Their presence in the martial world proved they were complete in their sorcery. And those who were complete in sorcery always maintained composure, no matter the situation.

“What would happen if the three Black Ranks joined forces? Ipwang Fortress’ martial arts are varied with the seventeen generations of the Shin Geom Dan, but the Cheonggeuk Sect is different. We master the same martial arts and the same sword techniques.”

After saying this, Chu Pae-gwang suddenly lifted a white flask.

“That’s why I’ve asked for their cooperation. Even if the greatest master of the Purple Rank here begins to act recklessly, as long as we delay the time until the arrival of our master and the Lord of Cheonggeuk Sect, we will be able to hold out. Yulha Nangnang will agree with this.”

“Do you think you can judge me and that child?”

Yulha Nangnang quietly asked.

By now, the sword hilt tied to her white belt gently rattled.

Soon, as if the early twilight had arrived, a dim dusk settled over the top of the building.

Behind Yulha Nangnang.

“You've only been threatening since earlier. Do you lack the courage to draw your sword?”

The swordsman in black, provoking, swung his sword left and right. It was Cheonggeuk Sect’s Drunken Tiger.

Her body wasn’t especially remarkable for a swordsman. She had mastered all the sword techniques taught by the Lord of Cheonggeuk, without leaving any out.

And yet, she had achieved one of the top five ranks in the Cheonggeuk Sect, making her naturally one of the decisive weapons in the sect’s battles.

It was then.

The distant horizon began to take on a faint hue of twilight.

And then, it darkened.

Swish—!

With a sound like thick paper being torn in half, a streak of blood crossed the Drunken Tiger’s abdomen.

She couldn’t even let out a groan. First, she hastily pressed on the wound with her fingers, trying to stop the bleeding with acupressure.

“It’s shallow, just half a hand deep,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

At that moment, she was already launching her counterattack against the young swordsman from the Cheonggeuk Sect, Silver Sword.

After losing to the Swordmaster, she had undergone half a year of intense, isolated training.

Now, her pinkish sleeves fluttered as she wielded her sword, and over her hand, pale veins throbbed violently, producing a loud hum.

Her internal energy and sword strikes were truly formidable.

It was a divine technique: Zihua Sword (紫霞剑).

“...!”

Silver Sword, as he saw the violet sword edge approaching like a petal in the twilight breeze, recalled the rumors that the current Swordmaster of the Hwasan Sect was the greatest swordsman of all, surpassing even the greatest of the older sects.

The talent was so immense that one could not even guess where it would end. He clenched his jaw, his eyes sharpening as he swung his sword from above.

A sudden, sharp hum rang in the air as his fierce sword attack made contact.

Whoosh—

There was no collision. It was a missed strike. Though he had aimed precisely, his sword veered off, clearly unintended.

By the time he realized what had happened, Yulha Nangnang had already extended her sword from his side. In that fleeting moment, Silver Sword saw the rapidly rising violet light—an absolute sword energy from the Hwasan Sect’s Swordmaster.

And then.

Boom!

Suddenly, Yulha Nangnang’s body froze, her energy momentarily cut off by a powerful force. She was stopped by something.

“Do not act foolishly any further.”

Chu Pae-gwang spoke, pouring wine into his glass. At the same time, a surge of blood poured from his mouth.

The pre-set formation, along with talismans and artifacts, had momentarily halted Yulha Nangnang’s attack. It was a level of sorcery bordering on divine skill.

He slowly continued, his voice steady.

“It’s not just the three of us. The Ten Kings of the Martial World are all here in this land, and the Dark Heaven Emperor is working with the Lord of Cheonggeuk to conquer the world. The strength of the Purple Rank and the Hwasan Swordmaster isn’t what matters. What matters is acknowledging that this land is a death trap and thinking about how to escape with your life.”

Hiss—

The remnants of the black mist from earlier stirred, moving toward Chu Pae-gwang.

The dark smoke swirled and quickly dissipated, sucked in toward him, as if he were drawing in the energy like a master of internal force.

“The energy from the new Purple Rank... it’s difficult to analyze, but could it be from a Taoist or Buddhist background? Still, this doesn’t make sense...”

Chu Pae-gwang frowned, indicating that only a low amount of energy was returning. But his grip on the wine glass never loosened.

“Anyway, do not interfere further. The Lord of Cheonggeuk is surely bringing the heads of the Black Sect and Wudang’s Grand Sword back with him. If you’re itching for action, you can share a drink with me and test our martial skills. Either way, think of it as releasing your true nature for a moment, before you end up in a confrontation with both the Dark Heaven Emperor and the Supreme Sword of the Unorthodox. That would be worse...”

Chu Pae-gwang’s words stopped abruptly.

He had finished collecting the black mist when he saw it.

“You...!”

A faint light beam appeared between his wide-open eyes.

It was completely vertical. From Chu Pae-gwang’s chest to his neck, to his lips and forehead, a solid line of light appeared, and then—Bang—his body split in two, falling to either side of the chair.

The trajectory of the light was the same as the one Jeong Yeon-shin had cut when he first entered.

The blow delivered by the sorcery had manifested directly on the body.

“Now.”

Jeong Yeon-shin gestured toward the empty space.

“Is the Lord going to sit?”

For a moment, even Yulha Nangnang slightly parted her lips.