Surviving as a Genius on Borrowed Time-Chapter 383: The World (7)

Jeong Yeon-shin’s grip tightened around the Divine Thunderblade.

The sword had returned to him, flowing seamlessly from the Golden Dawn Sect Master’s abdomen as if guided by water.

High above, the mist-covered Unhoe Peak loomed below them.

They hovered in the air—suspended in a battlefield beyond mortal reach.

Fwoosh.

Blue flames crackled violently around the Golden Dawn Sect Master as she dipped her head slightly toward him.

As she moved, golden embers scattered from the nape of her neck like fluttering feathers—an illusion reminiscent of a golden phoenix incarnate, said to devour dragons.

Yet there was nothing auspicious about her presence.

She radiated a transcendence so absolute that it felt otherworldly.

"That was a little sharp."

Her clear voice rippled through the air.

Jeong Yeon-shin cast a fleeting glance at her exposed midsection.

Through the flickering blue flames, he caught sight of a faint streak of blood seeping into her golden garments—a remnant of his Sword Projection Art.

A shallow wound.

That was all.

"Her defensive energy is absurd."

The sheer speed and density of her internal energy barrier were beyond comparison. It not only absorbed force but diffused it completely—rendering most techniques ineffective.

Swish.

She reached out.

Her delicate fingers extended toward Jeong Yeon-shin’s brow.

Golden energy rippled from her fingertips—a power that had earlier paralyzed his body like a petrified statue.

The winds that had fiercely lashed at their robes suddenly fell silent.

A blue glint flickered in Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes.

Heart-Eclipsing Qilin—Modified Formula.

A surge of white and crimson energy overlapped like converging tides, stretching outward from his grip on the Divine Thunderblade.

Moonlit Harmony Formation and Demonic Blood Arts—not wielded simultaneously, but alternating in rapid succession, creating an endless oscillation of force.

The veins on the back of Jeong Yeon-shin’s hand pulsed.

Enshrouded in swirling crimson and white energy, the Divine Thunderblade slashed upward in a blinding arc.

Fwoosh!

Golden waves shattered like sea foam, dispersing to the sides.

The Golden Dawn Sect Master’s technique, which had twice sealed his energy, had been broken.

Yet, her face remained expressionless.

The violent winds roared around them once more, her jet-black hair rippling upwards as if untouched by gravity.

Then—her lips moved.

It was impossibly fast, as if spoken in silent incantation.

"Fengming." (縫鳴, Phoenix Cry).

Her melodious voice layered over itself—echoing in multiple tones at once, as if many voices were speaking in unison.

A technique unique to spell-martial arts.

Not even a breath had passed since their last exchange, yet a golden halo had already formed in the air around her hand—growing into an immense, translucent ring of light.

Its density was suffocating.

Like a tidal wave, it expanded instantly, engulfing Jeong Yeon-shin completely.

His jin-gi froze.

Completely.

"It changed."

A cold realization struck him.

The Golden Dawn Sect Master’s presence had become ephemeral—as if her very existence had shifted into another realm.

Like a ghost manifesting into the physical world.

It was reminiscent of what he had once sensed from Zhuge Gaju.

Lightning Heaven Rending Dragon Strike.

Phoenix Cry Technique.

Her sealing techniques had become even faster and stronger, enhancing the deadly precision of the Sky-Piercing Dragon Slaughter Art.

Yet, unlike Zhuge Gaju, she did not require an array formation, spells, or sacred artifacts to prepare such techniques.

Whoosh!

Her face filled his vision.

Stepping through thin air, she kicked upward, closing the gap in an instant.

Her golden-enshrouded palm stretched toward his abdomen.

An eruption of golden lightning burst forth, splitting apart the air in a deafening crackle.

A strike without physical contact—pure force launched from afar.

BOOM!

The impact swept through the sky.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s body plummeted straight down, crashing into the earth with a resounding thud.

The shock reverberated through his spine, forcing his body to bounce before hitting the ground again.

Yet—

Even in midair, he had not let go of the Divine Thunderblade.

A subtle tremor spread outward from where he landed—a remnant of the impact energy he had absorbed into the ground.

Even after redirecting most of the force, the residual shock had left him reeling.

Pain flared across his abdomen.

His muscles had torn apart in multiple directions, twisting with unbearable agony.

His fascia had ruptured.

The only small mercy was that his internal organs had returned to their proper positions—a result of the Jeong Household Martial Arts’ profound regenerative abilities.

Unhoe Peak

He had returned to the dueling grounds where the Martial Festival had begun.

But the scenery had changed.

The crowd that once filled the mountain slopes had thinned, gaps appearing where people had disappeared.

The monks of Amitabha Sect were nowhere to be seen.

As he stitched his abdominal fascia back together with jin-gi, he lifted his gaze.

Step.

The Golden Dawn Sect Master landed lightly before him.

Her molten gold eyes met his—but they did not carry arrogance.

They carried certainty.

A silent demand for surrender.

No one in the crowd dared to speak.

This was Sichuan’s Supreme Martial Master, standing among the people of Sichuan.

Unlike the Tenfold Gate Lord, her authority here was absolute.

"I’ll forgive you once. Make it count."

She spoke softly.

It was the same thing she had said before.

To trap the flood dragon in Ten-Thousand Petal Rain—as if that was all that mattered to her.

Like a being that had long abandoned humanity, seeing only the ideal image of a dragon in her mind.

Jeong Yeon-shin slowly parted his lips.

"A technique that seals the flow of jin-gi... is it martial arts?"

"Spell-martial arts."

She answered casually.

There was no caution in her demeanor, no sign of hesitation.

He realized then—she was skilled in provocation.

"Why bother with Ten-Thousand Petal Rain when facing a flood dragon?"

"Spells don’t work on them."

Her response was indifferent.

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded inwardly.

A creature like a true flood dragon, one that had reached the peak of Strength Beyond Gods, would absorb natural energy effortlessly, making spell-based techniques useless.

Only pure martial prowess—unshackled from external elements—could bring them harm.

"You once told me my Ten-Thousand Petal Rain lacked depth."

"It does—when dealing with people. Against a dragon, it’s about power, not depth."

"Why do you insist on hunting flood dragons?"

"Because that’s the order of things."

Her words carried no emotion.

"Why? Are you planning to join?"

She smirked slightly, her lips pressing against the cracked surface of her flask.

Slowly, she licked the condensed droplets of liquor as if savoring each drop.

Step.

Jeong Yeon-shin moved forward.

Her presence remained blurred—like a ghost, maintaining Phoenix Cry at all times.

Prepared to strike him down the moment he let his guard down.

"Sky-Piercing Dragon Slaughter Art has two forms."

"Against people, it’s precise. Against beasts, it’s sheer power."

"I see. My martial arts pursue short battles. I don’t have many variations yet."

"I suspected as much. Why tell me?"

"Martial artists care about appearances."

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

A fleeting memory of the Tang siblings surfaced.

Vengeance came first.

This was a duel. A matter of honor.

The Golden Dawn Sect Master furrowed her brows.

"If you die, what happens to Ten-Thousand Petal Rain? And the Tang siblings? Should I recruit their clan leader instead?"

No response came.

Jeong Yeon-shin vanished from sight.

CLANG!

The Divine Thunderblade came crashing down.

The earth trembled.

The battle had begun.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword light flashed relentlessly.

The golden waves of Sky-Piercing Dragon Slaughter Art collided with the Moonlit Harmony Formation and Demonic Blood Arts, intertwining within the golden mist like threads of white and crimson silk unraveling into the air.

Clang! BOOM!

This was different from before.

No longer was it an exchange of brief strikes.

Jeong Yeon-shin poured every technique of Lightning Blade Surge into his attacks.

With the Heart-Eclipsing Qilin, he closed the gap between himself and the Golden Dawn Sect Master in an instant. Amidst the turbulent storm of energy that tore through his flesh, he unleashed the Collapsed Starfall, concentrating an explosive burst of force into his blade.

Whenever the Golden Dawn Sect Master’s hands exploded with thunderous counter-force, he countered with Scarlet Flower’s Radiant Sword, disrupting the shockwaves with wild, erratic arcs of light.

BOOM!

His vision shook violently.

A sudden golden pulse engulfed him, cutting off all forward momentum.

Before he could react, her fist buried itself deep into his solar plexus.

The impact spread in a perfect circular wave, drilling through the earth beneath their feet with a deafening crack.

Phoenix Cry Technique.

It was an unfathomable sealing art, wielded at impossible speeds.

Cough—

Blood gushed from Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.

For a moment, his mind blurred.

A fleeting vision of the Tang siblings surfaced—and vanished just as quickly.

The defensive techniques they had once given him felt distant, like echoes from another life.

"Not yet."

His thoughts burned with defiance.

"You sure can take a beating..."

The Golden Dawn Sect Master murmured, her round eyes widening slightly.

"Maybe I should just use a sword instead? Your swordplay is far more interesting than this."

The moment she spoke, Jeong Yeon-shin slammed his left elbow into her wrist—hard—while simultaneously releasing his grip on the Divine Thunderblade.

"Sword projection? No."

Vwoom—!

Her voice resonated like a bell.

Once again, golden energy rippled outward, sweeping across the battlefield.

But Jeong Yeon-shin caught the falling blade mid-air, using the momentum to spin in place.

CLANG!

He launched into Lightning Blade Surge once more.

His grip trembled.

Each clash layered upon the last, compounding the shock throughout his entire body.

Her strikes were inhumanly powerful.

If he failed to distribute the impact across his muscles immediately, he had no doubt that his limbs would burst apart from the sheer force.

SPLAT!

A golden palm strike exploded point-blank, detonating the flesh of his right shoulder and left thigh.

His wrist was beginning to fail him.

His meridians felt like they were tearing apart.

This battle was a hellish ordeal.

Time had never been on his side, and now it wrapped around him like a numbing shroud.

He had lost count of how many exchanges had passed.

Only his heightened senses remained.

From the Crown Meridian downward, his body felt stark white, raw instincts scraping against the subtle currents of energy she emitted.

How was she sealing jin-gi?

Was the Sky-Piercing Dragon Slaughter Art truly this absolute?

What would happen if he unleashed the Radiant Soul Wheel now—how would it collide against her martial arts?

His vision wavered.

But—

Her movements were still clear.

Every shift of her weight, every pivot of her waist, knees, and feet, all meticulously recorded in his mind.

A habit born from countless battles.

The form of her techniques had begun to etch themselves into his unconscious.

He was slipping into the familiar trance of no-mind.

Victory was still uncertain.

But one question burned sharper than the rest.

"What is martial arts?"

The thought struck him like a whisper.

It was not an unfamiliar question—but for the first time, it pressed against his mind with unshakable clarity.

A chain of thoughts followed.

A hundred years of a monkey’s effort—

A single year of a human’s training.

"Does time truly matter?"

Haa—

He began to forget the rhythm of his breath.

That was when the impact shattered his focus.

A thunderous shockwave from her palm coursed through his sword, rippling through his entire body.

"I’m done."

The Golden Dawn Sect Master took a step back.

A flicker of surprise passed through her golden eyes—then faded.

"What...?"

"You’ve been punished enough. If you won’t listen to me, then never return to Sichuan."

The Supreme Martial Master of Sichuan had spoken.

Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his head slightly.

His blood-drenched hair cascaded over his shoulder, but he felt no pain from his exposed wounds.

There were stories of martial artists killing themselves when their path to enlightenment was obstructed.

He did not understand them.

Even now—he did not.

His talent was lightning itself.

His unconscious mind illuminated every path—never forgetting, never overlooking a single clue.

Darkness had begun to settle around the mountain.

Slowly, he spoke.

"One strike."

"Hm?"

"One last technique. A duel to the death."

"No. Go fight that old man from the Sun Demonic Sect. I’m tired."

Step.

She turned away.

The ground beneath her delicate step was a battlefield riddled with deep trenches, carved by their previous clash.

Jeong Yeon-shin bit down on his lip.

Her Dragon-Scaling Footwork was an absolute movement art.

She could turn her own shockwaves into a method of propulsion.

In his current state, he could not keep up.

Not even with Ten Mile Radiance Step.

"Let’s not meet again."

She spoke the words just as it happened.

Rumble—

A subtle tremor rippled through the air.

A massive military formation had begun stirring around them.

The presence of a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» vast army pressed against his senses.

Hundreds—no, thousands.

A net of slaughter had been cast.

The air was thick with the killing intent of countless forces.

He recognized many of the energy signatures among them.

The crushing aura of the Bladewielder Sect.

The piercing demonic aura of the Sun Demonic Sect.

The heavy military qi of the Tenfold Gate Lords, clanking with the sound of armored legions.

And the unpredictable, chaotic techniques of the Golden Dawn Sect’s hunters, wielding all manner of bizarre martial arts.

But they were not alone.

This many fighters could not have gathered without drawing in lesser sects.

Among them, he sensed mercenaries—wandering swordsmen who sold their blades for food and copper coins.

The Martial Festival had turned into all-out war.

A completely new battlefield had begun.

[So, the Golden Dawn Sect Master’s little game is over sooner than expected! While those bald monks from Amitabha and Azure Heights are bickering down below, I think I’ll take this chance to kill Lord Bright Wing! Ha!]

The Summit of Unhoe Peak.

As if manifesting Phantom Moon Mirage, the Tenfold Gate Lords appeared, splitting into three forms, leading a massive horde of warriors behind them.

A martial formation of war.

Not all of them ascended in an orderly fashion—some leaped from all directions, landing in a dense formation around them.

A crushing concentration of qi spread through the area.

Jeong Yeon-shin saw the sight of withering trees severing themselves under the sheer pressure.

“....”

They were surrounded.

The Golden Dawn Sect Master had yet to leave.

She stood at an angle, wordlessly gazing at Jeong Yeon-shin.

Meanwhile, the Tenfold Gate Lords each picked up a different weapon from the battlefield—an assortment of the Eighteen Arms of War.

The Heaven’s Entrapment Formation of the Thirteen Heavens’ elite warriors was now in full effect.

The Azure Heights Sect Leader had sustained severe internal injuries from the Golden Dawn Sect Master, while Hundred Remedies Master had disappeared, presumably in pursuit of the Sun Demon Lord.

This was a desperate situation.

Jeong Yeon-shin had anticipated this possibility.

But on the chaotic battlefield of Sichuan, the chance to kill three Lords of the Thirteen Heavens took priority over everything else.

A direct war between sects held no chance of victory. He couldn't abandon the embattled Tang Clan either.

[Even if we leave, we must take his head. If we let that whelp go, who knows what disaster he will bring in the future?]

The Tenfold Gate Lords spoke.

Jeong Yeon-shin swept his gaze across them one by one.

“You answer a dueling challenge with a war formation... You’ve completely discarded your honor.”

[One must weigh the priorities. You’re still just a brat.]

“Your Ghost Devouring Technique is impressive. Do you know the Invincible Dragon Strikes of the Bright Wing Lord? He would be your equal—though, unlike you, he wouldn't feign death.”

[....]

The Tenfold Gate Lords remained silent.

Meanwhile, the chilling glow of twilight deepened over Unhoe Peak.

The power gathered by the encirclement was so dense that it formed an invisible barrier across the battlefield.

Even the wind had stopped.

Silence.

"Flower-Shrouded Dark Monarch.

I am the Lord of the Esteemed Sword Sect—a sect that split from the Bladewielder Sect and was later recognized by Laozhou Prefecture."

A swordsman with a scarred cheek stepped forward.

"As a Master of the Sacred Sword Corps, I give you this order—withdraw from Sichuan's martial affairs."

"Bring an imperial decree with an official seal. Then I'll consider it."

Jeong Yeon-shin stood still, speaking in a slow, indifferent voice.

‘...Could it be?’

Even with hundreds of piercing eyes watching him, he sensed something strange.

His heartbeat was pounding.

A powerful thrill surged through his veins.

For the first time in his life, his instincts defied belief.

‘Is this real?’

There was no need to question.

They were coming.

From afar.

A storm of familiar qi and unknown presences surged through his heightened senses.

Their speed was impossibly fast.

Had they all departed from the same location at once?

How was that even possible?

"Famine has long covered the land. It is time to rid ourselves of Ipwang Fortress's oppression. The neutrality of government martial orders... The entire world shall begin severing the fingers of the Sacred Sword Corps, one by one—"

And then—

At the outer edge of the encirclement—

BOOM!

A massive banner slammed into the ground at an angle.

Its azure fabric rippled violently, caught in an overwhelming gust.

Six characters were carved into it—each stroke as light as flying brushwork.

神劍團 燒淵隊.

"The Sacred Sword Corps... Scorching Abyss Division?"

One of the warriors in the formation muttered in shock.

A unit famed for their unparalleled movement arts—the strongest vanguard of Ipwang Fortress.

And then—

BOOM! BOOM—!

Blood-Soaked Battalion.

Infinite War Division.

Like an upturned waterfall, clouds of dust exploded into the air.

The banners plunged into the battlefield, encircling Heaven’s Entrapment Formation as if trapping them in turn.

Each plunge of the banners sent shockwaves rippling outward, their sheer force exceeding even legendary divine weapons.

The battlefield froze.

And yet, Unhoe Peak continued to shake.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Sacred Sword Battalion.

Bright River Division.

Heavenly Dominion.

Celestial Dragon Corps.

Judgment Division.

Heavenly Forest Division.

Seonmok Guard.

Azure Skies Corps.

Annihilation Corps...

A frostbitten silence shattered again and again.

And yet—

No martial master dared to speak.

They merely glanced around in wordless horror.

As if the banners themselves were divine artifacts, radiating imposing pressure.

And then—

BOOOOOM—!

A final banner embedded itself beside Jeong Yeon-shin.

The force of impact rattled its pole violently.

The fading orange sunlight glowed against the inscription—

"Sacred Sword Corps: Bright Wing Lord."

Jeong Yeon-shin lifted his head.

Beyond the billowing banners—

More than a dozen figures exuded an overwhelming force.

Silhouetted against the setting sun, black robes fluttered from every direction.