Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 453: Den of Demons (6)

Jeong Yeon-shin blankly stared at the empty space.

'When will he come?'

He did nothing. Something that didn't even deserve to be called a corpse had been chattering for quite some time, but in the first place, that body had merely been a signal flare meant to summon the Lord of Taemosan Fortress.

It was no different from the Boreum Jade that Ma Gwang-ik used.

The Dark Heaven Emperor, Cho Ryeol.

He was said to be a tyrant, the Ming family's Jade Emperor.

A transcendent being for whom nothing was impossible in the world, a supreme master whose martial arts and sorcery had reached the heavens.

He was an old monster who had spent his youth in the era when "Sambong Zhenren" was the name that represented the martial world—a being who had lived even before the founding of Ming.

'Who did I hear it from?'

Jeong Yeon-shin stood ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) in a daze, blinking once. Then, he let out a short sigh. Ah, the Grand Elder.

—Take note. At the time, Cho Ryeol had no ties to the unorthodox path. He simply walked the path of righteousness and had ties with the founding patriarch of the Wudang Sect. He even conversed with Sambong Zhenren in person. Naturally, he is much older than the Lord of Taemosan Fortress. That is why, whenever scholars discuss the distribution of the martial world, they always treat him as an exception.

—Then, does that mean my grandfather and the Grand Elder were just hatchlings...

—When one grows old, one's hearing tends to fail. What did you just say?

—I said the Grand Elder is still in his prime.

A raspy, aged laugh echoed in his ears.

The Grand Elder, Shin Byeok, was usually a calm and respected figure, though he had been particularly severe only with Yong Hui-myeong when he issued the Divine Sword Sect’s assembly order.

—At any rate, according to what I heard from the former Grand Elder before me, that man once came into contact with the Three Pure Powers—the most auspicious force under the heavens—and gained some sort of enlightenment. That is why, even during the golden age of Wudang and Shaolin, his divine presence remained untouchable. However, after experiencing something, his methods gradually became more extreme, and in the process of turning towards the unorthodox path, he began to slaughter even those who were natural enemies to sorcery and martial arts alike.

That was what Shin Byeok had told him, back when he was about to depart after receiving the crimson banner's ceremonial send-off.

Cho Ryeol, who had once conversed with Zhang Sanfeng, could invoke natural disasters without interference from any form of power.

It was said that his battle with some monstrous entity had altered the entire landscape of Xin Yae-hyeon in Hanam Province, a place that had originally been a hub of trade and transportation, isolating it completely.

For a being of that level—

It was inevitable that he would have sensed the death of his successor, no matter how far away he was.

'Whether sooner or later.'

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned his head.

Yulha Nangnang was staring at him, surrounded by three swordsmen from Heavenly Extreme Gate.

Crackle—

Between them, streaks of blue lightning flickered like threads of light.

Even the swordsman who had sustained a deep wound from Yulha Nangnang’s earlier attack was still standing as part of their formation.

The Fierce Tiger of the Drunken Sword Sect.

"This is getting tedious."

A wry smile crossed his lips, as if the provocation hadn't gone as expected.

Jeong Yeon-shin could see it clearly—how she had treated her bleeding abdomen.

She had clenched her abdominal muscles around the wound and fused the area together using the internal energy of a divine art imbued with spiritual power.

Someday, the aftereffects would come, but for now, she had not withdrawn from battle. The words spoken by that bloodied wretch about the Black Three of Ipwang Fortress hadn't been an exaggeration.

However—

At this moment, the swordsmen of Heavenly Extreme Gate were simultaneously facing both the Sect Leader of Mount Hua and a Purple Rank warrior of Ipwang Fortress.

Even so, they showed no signs of retreating. Their grip on their swords reflected only the composure of a master.

Perhaps they believed they could hold out for at least a while.

[May I ask how many you see?]

A translucent hand entered Jeong Yeon-shin’s field of vision. It was the half-formed ghost, So Cheonmujuk, waving his deathly pale fingers.

Jeong Yeon-shin paid it no mind. It wasn't obstructing his sight in the slightest.

The real problem was his drowsiness.

His mind felt hazy, as if wrapped in soft clouds.

He was in the process of assimilating fragments of the Imoogi's inner core into his upper dantian, and in doing so, his entire body occasionally went numb before regaining sensation.

At times, even the surrounding scenery and the breeze brushing his fingertips felt like an indistinct dream.

It was inevitable. He was always fighting against time.

"Looking at the situation now, I'm relieved I'm not alone," Yulha Nangnang remarked, twirling her pristine white sword once.

In the near future, two of the Thirteen Heavens might descend upon them, yet her voice carried an amused tone.

"You must have realized by now... but why do you look like that? Could it be... that a nightmare has come upon you?"

"......."

"My friend."

"I am listening."

"Now that you're wearing the Purple Battle Robe, you must understand. The Nine Great Sects were all established upon sacred mountains overflowing with natural energy, acting as guardians of the martial world. They have always dedicated themselves to confronting the monstrous entities that appear outside the realm of ordinary folk."

"I acknowledge the Sect Leader’s efforts."

Jeong Yeon-shin replied while revolving his Radiant Wheel Technique within his body. At the same time, he checked his lips with his senses to ensure he wasn’t drooling.

"After the martial tournament concluded, the Nine Great Sects that participated in the Mount Hua Assembly immediately returned to their headquarters. Fortunately, Wudang and Shaolin were able to do so without issue... but the same could not be said for Qingcheng and Emei, whose main sects are located in Sichuan. When a massive human-faced pillar manifested in Sichuan, the Sect Leader of Emei rushed there, while the Sect Leader of Qingcheng, after visiting a worldly sect that actively uses messengers, was to report on Sichuan’s movements. However—"

"You ended up arriving in Hangzhou first and nearly met your untimely end at the hands of your sect’s master."

A young swordsman holding a blade interjected from behind.

One of the Five Swords of the Heavenly Middle Sect.

The Silver Blade Severance.

His drowsy, half-lidded eyes were striking, but despite his languid impression, he held a straight sword in an impeccably elegant grip.

It was impossible to gauge his age. The sharply pointed ears on either side of his head suggested an unknown length of time spent honing the sword.

"Soon, the Sect Master will be here. Is there really any need to cross blades here? Our junior sister is already severely injured."

The Silver Blade Severance idly shifted his body as he spoke.

He did not spare a single glance at the Drunken Sword Sect’s Fierce Tiger, whose stomach was soaked in blood.

He focused all his attention on Yulha Nangnang and Jeong Yeon-shin, revealing that, contrary to his drowsy demeanor, his sword perception was razor-sharp.

Not a single one among them was an easy opponent.

The Heavenly Extreme Gate, the sect said to rival Wudang in swordsmanship.

Rumble—

A faint tremor spread from beneath the feet of the three supreme masters. Their sword formation had already been fully activated.

If they advanced aggressively, fortune might grant them the chance to seize the leader of a great sect.

If they chose to defend, they might hold out for three days and nights before succumbing to death.

If the division leaders of the Divine Sword Sect trained long enough in formation tactics, they would eventually reach this level.

"You may come forward," said the Blade Phantom, whose robe was now fluttering sharply like a drawn sword.

Yulha Nangnang slowly surveyed them.

She seemed to be calculating which part of the sword formation needed to be broken to end this standoff quickly. Then, she casually addressed Jeong Yeon-shin.

"What do you think of their words? Do you truly believe that the Supreme Sword Master met his demise at the hands of the First Sword of the Unorthodox Path?"

"Nangnang."

Her eyes widened.

Not because of the sudden familiarity in his address.

But because Jeong Yeon-shin had suddenly placed his hand on her shoulder and was flipping through the air in reverse.

An explosively swift somersault.

As his feet brushed the sky, a brilliant white wave spread outward.

"Time is precious."

Whan Ik Step.

Boom!

The moment Jeong Yeon-shin landed beyond Yulha Nangnang, the ground rippled like waves, releasing a deep, resonant tremor.

At the same time, the translucent circular energy field that the Heavenly Extreme Gate’s supreme masters had formed shattered all at once, scattering into the air.

"......!"

A single step had rendered the power of their formation meaningless.

The Blade Phantom, who stood at the forefront of the enemy, widened his eyes in shock. That single step had left him completely exposed to the Purple Rank warrior of Ipwang Fortress.

Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa—!

Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand was already reaching for his face.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A translucent vortex surged from his arm, coiling with the spiral force of Whan Kang. It was an attack meant to crush his skull in a single strike.

At that moment—

"A terrifying young man. How about stopping right there?"

From behind.

It was a voice that hadn’t been present in the hall.

Rough, unrefined—like that of a middle-aged man one might hear in the streets.

And yet, it was dense. The presence carried within that voice was unlike any other.

Words that, in themselves, weren’t particularly special, felt like a blade pressing against the nape of his neck. As though, if he did not withdraw his hand immediately, he would be sliced to ribbons by an invisible sword.

Jeong Yeon-shin realized it mid-strike.

‘The Lord of Heavenly Extreme Gate.’

A supreme swordsman who could split providence with a single blade. A rebel cooperating with the Lord of Taemosan Fortress.

A man he could not afford to show an opening to. Even if he had seized the perfect opportunity, it would be wiser to stay his hand.

Jeong Yeon-shin did no such thing.

Puhwaak—!

His palm tore through the Blade Phantom’s face. Sevenfold layers of Whan Kang force surged through the strike.

There wasn’t the slightest resistance. The explosion of protective energy and flesh echoed eerily through the air.

Moments later, bone fragments and droplets of blood, caught in the vortex of force, scattered in all directions with wet splattering sounds.

The Fierce Tiger of the Drunken Sword Sect and the Silver Blade Severance both flinched in sheer shock.

“...That was quite well done.”

The voice of the presumed Lord of Heavenly Extreme Gate spoke again.

It carried a slightly exaggerated tone, making it impossible to discern whether it was genuine or laced with mockery. It was as though his speech itself was a form of illusion—like a deceptive swordplay of words.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly turned.

Ssshhk.

A middle-aged blind man, with a layer of white film over his eyes, lifted his wide-brimmed bamboo hat.

In his other hand, he held a sword nearly four feet long, which Yulha Nangnang was blocking while turned away from Jeong Yeon-shin.

A wooden box, seemingly brought by the blind man, rolled across the ground.

With a light impact, its lid flipped open.

A human face emerged from within.

Jeong Yeon-shin knew that face.

It was incredibly familiar—so much so that, in his hazy state, he questioned whether this place was a dream.

“...Zhenren.”

The Supreme Sword Master of Wudang Sect.

The face of the youthful-looking boy remained perfectly intact, severed from its body.

A heavy silence descended.

The Blade Phantom and the Supreme Sword Master—two men who had carved their overwhelming presence into the history of the martial world—had died. The moment their deaths were revealed, Hangzhou became the land that would come to symbolize an era of chaos.

“......”

Jeong Yeon-shin briefly lowered and raised his eyelids.

A pure white radiance flared in his eyes like rising flames.

The moment he tightened his grip on Thunderstrike—

[Let’s change locations.]

Another voice came from above his head.

At the same time, a crisp snap of fingers rang out.

In an instant, Jeong Yeon-shin felt the air beneath his feet compress before erupting like a lightning strike.

KWA-AAAAAAANG—!

A tremendous explosion launched his body through the air.

He was quite literally shot forth like an arrow.

In an instant, he was flung from the rooftop of the towering pavilion, hurtling toward the distant waterways of Hangzhou.

The violent rush of wind roared in his ears as the forceful currents slammed against his body.

Jeong Yeon-shin narrowed his gaze in midair.

His eyes locked onto the rapidly shrinking rooftop of the Flaming Heaven Pavilion.

BOOM!

Like thunder splitting the sky, a figure soared after him.

It wasn’t the Lord of Heavenly Extreme Gate, who had moved first.

The man’s pitch-black hair was tied up in a headband, his sharply pointed ears protruding high from either side. A golden sun motif was emblazoned on his pristine white robe.

A face that perfectly matched the description he had received at the General Bureau.

The Dark Heaven Emperor, Cho Ryeol.

‘That just now...’

The Lord of Taemosan Fortress had manifested without the slightest trace.

Sensing his son’s death, the fortress lord had ascended to the Flaming Heaven Pavilion.

The activation speed of his sorcery and martial arts was like a flash of light.

Among all the swift sword techniques Jeong Yeon-shin had ever encountered, this was one of the fastest.

His combat methods, estimated by their energy, weren’t all that different from the techniques of So Cheonmujuk.

"This is rather abrupt. Why not exchange words first? You’ve only just arrived in Hangzhou, and yet you’ve already slain both the young lord and Yong Ryeok."

The blind man, pressing down on the crown of his wide-brimmed hat, was also flying through the air nearby.

It seemed they were being hurled all the way toward the water routes where naval forces operated.

The glimmering river behind them grew closer.

Was there something valuable near the Flaming Heaven Pavilion?

Or perhaps they simply couldn’t afford to lose any more of the Five Heavenly Swords, the decisive weapons of the war.

Both possibilities were equally likely.

Even the Black Seventeen of Ipwang Fortress would be in a dire situation if three of their division leaders fell.

And between Jeong Yeon-shin and the Lord of Heavenly Extreme Gate—

"Stay sharp. From here on..."

Yulha Nangnang’s voice rang out, loud and clear.

She, too, had been sent flying alongside them.

Though the terrifying force of the Taemosan Fortress Lord’s magic was evident, she had seemingly chosen to let herself be caught in the explosion.

She likely didn’t want to cause destruction to the civilians of Hangzhou.

Jeong Yeon-shin was of the same mind.

The four of them—two of the Thirteen Heavens, along with the leader of a Nine Great Sect—could not allow their battle to unfold in a civilian area.

Even though rage and haziness surged within him, he was still able to make rational decisions.

He only half-listened to Yulha Nangnang’s warning.

"Nangnang."

"Hm?"

Jeong Yeon-shin ran his hand along her lower back.

Sarak.

They had already exchanged a life-saving grace.

Yulha Nangnang only watched as Jeong Yeon-shin drew the flexible sword tied to her waist.

"What are you planning...?"

Sreung—

The white blade, appearing almost like a willow branch, flexed and curved.

There was not a single glimmer on its surface—perhaps the craftsmanship of the Iron Clan.

A sword was, by nature, a consumable tool, and Yulha Nangnang’s belt had served as a place to carry spare weapons. Any supreme master with a keen eye would have noticed that.

Without hesitation, Jeong Yeon-shin hurled the blade.

Following his motion, a straight streak of light shot through the air.

BUAAAAAANG—!

The flexible sword, imbued with internal energy, followed the exact trajectory from which he had been flung.

The spiritual essence within the sword was so potent that, despite the vast distance, it did not falter.

That distance was nearly ten leagues.

Yulha Nangnang’s eyes widened.

The flexible sword tore across the Flaming Heaven Pavilion in an instant, bending like a whip as it slashed across the throats of the Fierce Tiger of the Drunken Sword Sect and the Silver Blade Severance.

They instinctively swung their blades in a flash to deflect the strike, but—

The moment the flexible sword unleashed a surge of explosive energy, their throats burst apart.

Sword Song, carried within the art of flying swordsmanship.

A hazy shockwave tore through the air.

Their severed heads spiraled upward, vanishing into the void.