Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 454: Den of Demons (7)

A waterway encircling Hangzhou stretched far into the distance, merging with the horizon.

It was the Zhejiang River.

At this moment, the vast, flowing river was no different from the sea. The water carried an eerie tranquility, its surface tinged with a pale, misty hue.

It reflected only the deep blue sky, its gentle currents shifting to and fro, never revealing the depths below—just like the martial world, often referred to as the Jianghu.

Splash.

A young boy sitting at the edge of the dock kicked his feet in the water.

The surroundings were quiet.

The Zhejiang River, which ran through Hangzhou, had once been a bustling route for ships of all kinds. But ever since the rise of Wansang Water Stronghold, which now held a seat among the Thirteen Heavens, the waterway had long been obstructed.

A sect poised to become another pillar of the Thirteen Heavens in this era of upheaval.

Pirates who had mastered formidable martial arts.

For trade routes to thrive, merchant ships needed to pass freely.

Yet, Wansang Water Stronghold, as if intent on carving their name into history, intermittently blocked various waterways.

With extraordinary naval warfare techniques and unmatched maneuvering skills, they evaded both the imperial navy and the pursuers from Ipwang Fortress. Even Hangzhou itself was within their sphere of influence.

Because of this, the child, who had been idly passing time, now witnessed a spectacle.

Four figures descended from the sky.

The distance between them was vast, and their worlds were entirely different.

Beyond the smooth, silk-like surface of the flowing water, past the towering reefs left in the wake of wars from the founding era, further still where the bright white sunlight bathed the river’s center.

The very pinnacle of the martial world.

Splash.

A person's feet touched the surface of the water without sinking. A woman, dressed in garments reminiscent of a Taoist deity, stood upon the water in white silk socks.

Yulha Nangnang, the Holy Fire Sword Deity, effortlessly demonstrated the profound mastery of "Ascending the Still Waters."

She did not drift like a floating reed—she truly walked upon water. Only the hem of her flowing, pale pink robe trailed into the river, darkening as it absorbed the moisture.

Next was Jeong Yeon-shin.

Splash!

He landed forcefully, sending ripples across the surface.

His long hair scattered the sunlight, and beneath it, his deep purple robe occasionally glinted gold. A stark contrast—the radiant sunlight pouring down upon the violet fabric of Ipwang Fortress.

Two figures reflected in his eyes.

A blind man in a straw hat, standing upon the river as if casually strolling through a market.

A nobleman in white robes, floating effortlessly, as if unwilling to stain his garments in the water.

[Orthodox sects, Ipwang Fortress.]

The nobleman, Lord of Taemosan Fortress, spoke slowly. A golden sun emblem on his chest gleamed brilliantly.

[Arrogant brats.]

Amcheonje Cho Ryeol had the right to say such things. He had lived through the era of the Tri-Peak Hermit of Wudang—a giant of the martial world.

A man who stood so high in the martial hierarchy that even the Lord of Ipwang Fortress was far beneath him.

Like the title "Heavenly Demon," which had been passed down for generations, those who bore the name Amcheonje had always been revered as grandmasters.

Even during his seclusion in Taemosan Fortress, nothing had changed.

Jeong Yeon-shin remained unfazed.

He merely observed his two opponents, silently analyzing the flow of their energy and their smallest habitual movements.

And then, the Master of Mount Hua stood beside him.

“Even after activating something as absurd as the Dragon-Summoning Art...”

Yulha Nangnang traced the hilt of her sword with her fingers as she spoke, subtly motioning toward Cho Ryeol with her chin.

“Did you truly not consider the possibility that the orthodox sects would move? Surely, you must have known they would intervene.”

[There was no need to think about it.]

The response came without hesitation.

Amcheonje Cho Ryeol’s voice was firm, like a drum echoing through a cavern. His features, even among the noble clans, were exceptionally striking—second to none.

His azure eyes, which took in both Jeong Yeon-shin and Yulha Nangnang at once, gleamed with a distant light, reminiscent of a comet in the night sky.

[Monstrous beings, self-proclaimed heroes of the world, rogue warriors who mastered powerful martial arts simply by being born into chaos, peasants who took up arms and became bandits, vagrants and minor sects that thrive on plundering, and the common folk who drift like floating weeds in the storm...]

He spoke slowly.

[Every hundred steps you take, you will find someone in misery. The streets and mountain paths are no different.]

“I thought you were merely living in leisure at Taemosan, but it seems you understand the state of the world better than I expected.”

[How could the orthodox sects, who claim to uphold both righteousness and martial prowess, turn their backs on the people? Even if it means breaking their promises daily, they would still aid them.]

“...”

[The Wudang Sect’s Sword Saint did the same. He alone stood in the path of the Lord of the Celestial Extremes Sect.]

For a brief moment, Cho Ryeol’s gaze flickered toward Jeong Yeon-shin.

A peculiar look.

As if the past actions of the Sword Saint were somehow tied to Jeong Yeon-shin himself.

[Child of Mount Hua, I held not even the slightest doubt.]

Cho Ryeol spoke as though chewing through his words.

[It is merely you fools. Mad Taoists and monks, with sects rooted in every corner of the world.]

Wooong—!

Suddenly, a wave surged on one side of the river. A sorcerer’s unique Six Harmonies Incantation struck the air, sending violent tremors through the surroundings.

[You could never gather on the same day, at the same time, to strike me down... because you are nothing more than a disorganized rabble. Yes, not even fit to be soldiers. How could you ever hope to conquer this land? Before seeking the grand martial techniques of your own sects, you must first surpass the tides of this era...]

Spit.

Without warning, the Lord of the Celestial Extremes Sect spat out a glob of dark red blood. He smirked wryly beneath his straw hat.

“My apologies. The stagnation of my blood has risen again.”

[...Celestial Ruin.]

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"The greatest flaw of sorcerers who claim to dominate the world is their excessive tongues."

Cho Ryeol did not respond. He simply floated through the air, moving closer to the Heaven’s End Gate Master.

Flap—

The blind swordsman gave his left arm, which held his sword, a strong shake. In that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin saw it. The formless energy that had accumulated in the Heaven’s End Gate Master’s arm surged like a wave.

"Who will you take on?"

The Heaven’s End Gate Master glanced at Cho Ryeol as he spoke.

[Zaha Divine Art is an extremely unique martial technique. Once one achieves great mastery, one's essence does not separate. It is akin to a fully grown tree.]

"Then you should take on the sect leader of Mount Hua."

The response was playful. However, Cho Ryeol remained completely serious, which only made him seem even more dignified.

[At least here, there is no trace of deceit in words and actions.]

"Hmm..."

[Do you desire the purple robes?]

"That man mercilessly slaughtered my precious disciples, didn't he?"

Spit.

Once again, the Heaven’s End Gate Master spat out blood.

A thick clot splashed into the water, black blood mixed within.

"Ah, what a mess."

Yet, the Heaven’s End Gate Master was unbothered. He even casually lifted his robe, revealing his abdomen to Jeong Yeon-shin and Yulha Nangnang.

"Take a look at this. The so-called 'Second Sword of Wudang' turned out to be better with his hands than with his blade."

His abdomen was covered in old scars, sliced apart in every direction.

At the center of it was a distinct palm-shaped mark.

It was small, like a child's hand, yet it pressed deep into his stomach like an iron brand. It was a striking sight, almost unfathomable that the Heaven’s End Gate Master could still be breathing.

The mark of one of the Five Great Supreme Palms.

The imprint of the Ten Sealing Palms, a secret divine technique.

Even through his fatigue, with his mind clouded by drowsiness, Jeong Yeon-shin sharpened his gaze.

What had truly happened? Had the Divine Sword Hermit really perished while protecting the common people?

Had he, in the body of a mere child, done something so far removed from the art of war?

If so, then chivalry itself might be nothing more than a banner that gnaws at an era in chaos.

A narrow vision could lead to actions that rob an entire force of its strength. That elderly, dignified Taoist of Wudang should not have died in such a manner.

At that moment—

The Heaven’s End Gate Master, watching Jeong Yeon-shin with interest, spoke again.

"Great senior, heal me."

[At this point in time?]

"I can’t hold out much longer. My bones are starting to feel the chill."

[Profound sorcery and martial techniques demand more than just internal energy. It will significantly shorten your lifespan.]

"As I mentioned earlier, the greatest flaw of sorcerers is—"

Suddenly, a radiant light burst from Cho Ryeol's hand. A resonant hum vibrated through the air as an irregular wave of energy enveloped the Heaven’s End Gate Master.

It was easy to deduce. It had to be a regeneration technique.

But only for a moment.

A shadow suddenly loomed over them.

In a single step, Jeong Yeon-shin surged forward, slashing his sword toward the Lord of Taemosan Fortress.

The new commander of Ipwang Fortress’s Violet Battalion had no reason to wait for the completion of their spell.

And so it began.

Claaang—!

A violent wave surged in all directions.

The water, caught in the wake of Simgeuk Qilin's rapid sword strike, distorted the sunlight as it scattered.

Jeong Yeon-shin flicked his gaze downward.

A blind man had blocked Shingeom Yeorae with a single sword.

The Heaven’s End Gate Master's bamboo hat had slipped from his head, hanging around his neck, leaving his face fully exposed. ƒreewebɳovel.com

At that moment, he did not appear to be exerting any great strength in his arms.

"Your sword force surpasses that of the Divine Sword Hermit."

The Heaven’s End Gate Master spoke as if amused.

"Let’s see how your technique fares."

A chill crawled up Jeong Yeon-shin’s spine.

It was an indescribable sensation, as if he were being observed by something beyond human sight.

The Heart Eye.

A legendary sensory technique passed down only in stories.

‘His perception... is far deeper than mine.’

Jeong Yeon-shin tightened his grip on his sword and spun in a half-circle.

With just a slight tilt of his blade, a storm-like rotational force enveloped his entire body.

Ssshhk!

As space itself seemed to tear apart, Jeong Yeon-shin caught a glimpse of Yulha Nangnang in the distance, her figure bathed in the setting sun.

With a single sword strike, she launched Cho Ryeol into the sky.

The sheer force of the sword pressure sent a powerful gust through the battlefield, greatly amplifying Jeong Yeon-shin’s momentum.

Whoooosh!

His sweeping kick carved a massive arc through the air.

His leg, wrapped in compressed wind force as if conjuring a contained typhoon, left behind a translucent trail as it cut through the sky.

"Geniuses, truly..."

With a slight bend of his torso, the Heaven’s End Gate Master easily dodged Jeong Yeon-shin’s kick.

His left arm blurred—along with the sword in his hand.

It was an attack from the greatest heretical swordsman.

A dazzling flash!

A vertical streak of light descended from above. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a radiant glow, yet it resounded as if an explosive roar had erupted.

The sight itself was overwhelming. As Jeong Yeon-shin barely twisted his body in midair, the sleeve of his robe crumbled into violet dust, scattering into the wind.

Swoooosh—!

The sound resonated from below. The deep and vast river was split apart like a sheer cliff, refusing to return to its original state. A sword technique that defied the natural order.

“You’ve got a good sense for things—just like the Bloodflame Cult Leader. Your upper danjeon must be exceptionally developed.”

The Heavenly Extreme Lord spoke with a casual smile.

How sturdy was his protective inner energy? Even with the additional force of Yulha Nangnang’s sword pressure, the shockwave from her kick had failed to tear through his robes.

“The Bloodflame Cult Leader?”

Jeong Yeon-shin, now positioned far behind, questioned in return. The Heavenly Extreme Lord nodded leisurely.

“Yes, that fellow who claims to rival the best in the world when it comes to regenerative power. Even he seemed somewhat reluctant to face my swordplay. Someday, I should cross blades with him agai—hm?”

Boom—! Boom—!

While Yulha Nangnang and Amcheonje Cho Ryeol clashed above, the sky itself trembled under the weight of their battle.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t bother to finish listening. He planted his foot down.

He had only asked the question to steady his inner breath, not to entertain idle conversation. His mind had long been consumed by both killing intent and drowsiness.

All circuits at full throttle.

Like thunder coursing through his body, the surging energy of Final Thunder transformed him into a bolt of light.

With the heel of his foot shattering a massive wave behind him, his form shot forward, slicing through the air. Dragging his lowered sword across the river’s surface, he reached the Heavenly Extreme Lord in an instant.

Bang!

As his upward slash connected, white foam burst into the air. The Heavenly Extreme Lord, having parried the strike with a diagonal downward thrust, was momentarily pushed back.

But the swordsmanship cultivated by the Foremost Blade of the Heretical Path had long since surpassed human limitations.

In a fleeting instant, he grasped the upper part of his sword hilt in a reverse grip and swiftly ducked. Brushing past Jeong Yeon-shin’s waist, his ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) movement was indistinguishable from a straight beam of light.

Screeeeech—!

The metallic roar was like a colossal piece of iron being shattered to bits. From Jeong Yeon-shin’s side, a belated spray of blood erupted.

Not only had his external oblique muscle been severed, but part of his internal organs had been cut as well.

Yet, the attack should have bisected him entirely. It was no different from the sword strike that had earlier cleaved the river into a sheer wall.

“My wrist feels great. Annoying protective inner energy, though.”

The Heavenly Extreme Lord casually tossed his sword upward before catching it by the hilt.

For the first time—

A crack formed in his carefree expression.

His eyes reflected the searing white radiance bursting forth from the Purple Commander of Ipwang Fortress.

Kwaaaaaah—!

Before anyone realized it, Jeong Yeon-shin had plunged his sword directly into the Heavenly Extreme Lord’s chest. In an instant, the sunlight that enveloped Thunderous Sword Yeo-roe rippled outward in all directions.

Behind Jeong Yeon-shin, the river, gouged open like deep furrows in a field, belatedly erupted into tidal waves. The lingering aftershock of his charge.

Lightning Rift Piercing Blade—Heavenly Thunder.

From his extremities to his core, the ironclad focus of the Iron Clan’s Precision Combat Art spread with an icy yet lightning-fast flow.

'Reconnecting the external oblique with precision-guided true energy—impossible. However, substituting the damaged muscle by restructuring the internal energy flow through the Governor Vessel and Kidney Meridian for approximately half a day is feasible. Maintaining a state of Three Harmonies Refinement is mandatory. No need for acupuncture anesthesia. To avoid further dispersion of my focus, I'll redefine my energy pathways solely through the techniques of Luminescent Wheel Qi...'

This was no duel.

It was a battle to kill.

At some point, as his killing intent uncoiled, Jeong Yeon-shin’s face twisted ever so slightly.

Clang—!

The formless protective energy encasing the Heavenly Extreme Lord’s abdomen shattered beneath his sword strike.

A cascade of fractured sunlight twisted into iridescent waves, while translucent shards of shattered inner energy barriers splintered away like fragile glass.